Page 29 of Enticing the Fixer

“Stop.” I dodge her hands. Her eyes drop to the floor as if she fears I’m rejecting her. I don’t think that’s ever going to be possible.

I grab her chin. “I want to make you feel better.” I can’t explain it, but when I see hurt in her eyes, I feel an uncontrollable compulsion to fix it. By whatever means possible.

And sex is the easiest. I’m good at it. I know what I’m doing. In five minutes, I can ease the stress weighing on her shoulders. And then I’ll take care of her other problems because someone in this building is trying to set her up. There’s no way she’s responsible. There isn’t a shady bone in her body.

I came to her office to tell her someone has breached her system and pilfered her client’s information. And if that wasn’t enough, someone is stealing from her or making it look like she’s stealing from the company to discredit her.

But instead of discussing the ugly shit we need to discuss, I run my hands up her thighs, caressing and stroking her.

After I draw closer to her apex, I slid my palms down to her knees. Her mouth drops open as she moans and braces her hands on the desk to stay propped up.

She’s stunning. I love every curve on this woman. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

“Please.” She rolls her eyes. “You’re sharing an office with Carla.”

“She’s fake. And mildly creepy. She spent most of the morning staring at me.” I grab the crotch of her panties and brush them to the side. “Such exquisite perfection.”

“And then there’s Valeria.”

“Who?” My brain makes a valiant effort to compartmentalize what she’s saying versus what I’m doing, but I’m failing. And I don’t fail at much. I don’t know who’s given her the impression that she’s lacking, but I want to meet up with him and beat his ass.

“My assistant.”

“Oh, her.” Lord, she’s got me spinning upside down. My friends give me shit about having a photographic memory. Yet, I met the woman five minutes ago, and I’ve already forgotten she exists. “She’s pretty, but she’s not you.” I slide my finger along her slit, relishing her shaking thighs.

“You don’t have to pretend I’m some cover model. I’m not going to tell you to leave.” Her eyes bore into mine, and my breath catches in my throat. I twirl my thumb over her clit and smile as her expression changes from doubt to desire.

As I press my cock into her thigh, I dive a finger into her pussy. With every whimper from her mouth, I lunge in and out, stroking over her G spot. “I love your pussy. It’s so hot and tight. I love how wet you get when I touch you.” I remove my finger and suck it deep into my mouth. “I want more of this. When I woke up, and you were gone, I was hurt.”

She licks her lips. “You were hurt?”

“Yes. Smitten, I wasn’t done devouring you yet.” I drop to my knees and yank her ass forward until she’s hanging off the edge and feast at her throne while never taking my eyes off hers. The intensity is earth-shattering.

I have no idea what I’m doing. I’m in Kansas City under false pretenses. She doesn’t know I’m a billionaire, and I don’t want to tell her. I like knowing she wants me for no reason other than she feels a connection to me. And even if I wanted to tell her the truth. I can’t. I’ve been hired to do a job.

Oh, and I came to give her bad news.

I’m a coward. I’m lying about everything to have one more second with her. It’s fucked up, and it will blow up in my face. But I couldn’t walk into her office, drop more bad news on her, and walk out. What am I hoping to accomplish? That orgasms are going to solve all her problems. Even I’m smart enough to know that’s not going to happen. Yet here I am.

I slide two fingers into her sex and watch her come undone, loving every second of it.

“God, yes. Oh, my God. Fuck.” Her hips buck off the desk, and I grab the outsides of her thighs, continuing to eat her out like a starving man after thirty years in the desert. I want every quiver to bathe my tongue.

She throws her head back and arches her pelvis into my face, fucking me in time with the movements of my tongue. “Oh, fuck. Fuck. Oh, my God, yes. Fuck.” She thrashes, causing the pile of papers to fall to the floor.

“Shit,” she gasps and jumps up, knocking me back on my heels and tugging her skirt down to her knees.

“Sweetheart,” I chuckle, stand, and cup her cheek. “All the fucks and Oh, Gods were much louder than the mail falling onto the floor.”

“Oh, my God.” This time, the words are said under her breath as her face flames a deep red, and she squeezes her eyes together. “I can’t. We can’t. You can’t.”

“I did. We did. And you definitely did.” I swipe my thumb over her bottom lip. “And I’d definitely like to do it again.”

She stares at me like a rabbit in the headlights of an eighteen-wheeler.Shit.I took advantage of her in a weakened state. Again. She’s embarrassed, overwhelmed, and in over her head.

“Listen.” I drop my hand and step back. “I shouldn’t have forced you to do something you weren’t comfortable doing. I don’t know what it is about you.” I pace behind her desk. “When I see you’re upset, I want to fix it.”

“By having sex?”

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