Page 16 of Enticing the Fixer

“Baby, you’ve got to get used to slumming it if you’re hanging with me.” He laughs. “Backfiring vehicles and dogs barking come with the territory.”

My heart thuds in my chest. I want to hang with him.

What am I doing? This is one night. That’s it, and then back to the boardroom on Monday morning. I glance out the window. It’s dark, with only a smattering of illumination coming from a streetlight. We’re too exposed to go at it in the car, right?

Right. We’re parked in his driveway in front of his garage, and his neighbor is only proverbial, stone’s throw away. “We should go inside.”

“Yeah, we should.” His voice is rough, as if he’s already deep inside of me.

I shiver and climb off his lap. “Let’s go inside.”

Chapter Six

Leo

The second the door closes behind us, we’re a clash of hands, lips, and tongues, and I’m glad my dog, Mac, is still being boarded. He would disapprove of our having a guest without an introduction, and I don’t have time to stop.

I’ve never wanted anyone like I do her. The faint taste of rum adds fuel to the fire. Even though I don’t know her name, she’s different than the other women I’ve been with. She’s real.

While it might not have been my idea to leave Vegas behind, I’m not disappointed with the outcome. I was tired of the fake boobs and superficial personalities of the women I met.

Her hands jerk at the fabric of my T-shirt until it’s free from my jeans. She slides her hands along my abs, skating over the flesh. “I want to see you.”

“Like I’m going to deny you.” I remove my glasses and rip the shirt over my head, tossing them onto the end table next to the door. Her eyes drink me in as she traces the tattoos on my chest. “Nice work. And the piercings are a nice touch.”

“Thank you.” I inhale, taking in her scent. Jasmine and mandarin orange. It’s like an aphrodisiac. “One of my best friends is a tattoo artist.” She touches her tongue to my pec, and I suck down a gasp of air at the contrast of heat and the room’s coolness.

She steps around me and touches the black horse and rider on my bicep. “The third horseman?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting.” She nods.

“It represents famine caused by war and overindulgence and is a reminder not to forget where I came from.”

“I’ve always thought about getting a tattoo, but I’ve never had the nerve to do it.” She traces her fingers over my flesh. “Did it hurt?”

“They were uncomfortable but not painful. I like that they represented important moments in my life. My friends all have variations of the horseman tattoo.”

Without speaking, she strips her top off, leaving her breasts covered in white lace.

Oh, fuck.My chest constricts.She’s beautiful.

Don’t do this. Don’t turn this into something cheap and easy. Get to know her first. What if she’s ‘the one’?

Shit. I don’t believe in ‘the one.’

When she steps out of her skirt, she folds her clothes, turns, and drops them on the end table next to my shirt. My mouth dries. Her sweet ass begs to be grabbed, but instead, I grasp her shoulder.

Truman was right. I’m going to sleep with her and screw everything up.

She squeals as I turn her around and stares at me with wide eyes and a half-open mouth. “I should make you leave.”

She licks her lips. “Then tell me to go.”

“Go.” I crush my lips against hers and boost her off the ground until her legs are wrapped around me.

For an eternity, I stand there drinking her in until I’m lightheaded, and my chest is about to explode. Want. Need. Desire. Comfort. Connection. More. Something more. It’s just out of reach.

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