The Sweetest Fix

Page 39

And then there was Leo, outlined in the doorframe, his head nearly brushing the jamb. The sheer joy that leapt in her breast at the sight of him, the way her knees stopping shaking for one reason, then resumed trembling for another, told Reese she hadn’t just fallen for Leo. She was well on her way to being in love with him. In love with his intensity, his bluntness, his passion for his job. The depth of him, his wealth of honesty, the way he took things she said to heart. She especially loved the way he was looking at her now, as if she’d arrived on a cloud from the heavens, instead of a pair of cheap heels.

As if they had all the time in the world.

Which they very possibly didn’t.

That troubling reminder gave Reese the impetus she needed to unbutton her coat, spreading the sides and letting it hang open, knowing full well what he saw. A pair of sheer black panties that barely covered a thing. And skin that had been lotioned head to toe.

Reese cocked a hip and rested one hand on the doorframe. “Mister Bexley?”

In the afternoon light pouring down the hallway, she could see his pupils expand until his eyes were almost black, the knot in his throat bobbing up and down. “Fucking Christ.” His hand shot out to grip the doorjamb. “Yes. I’m…yes.”

She trailed the tip of her index finger downward between her breasts, over her belly, stopping to play with the edge of her panties. “Did you order a nap date?”

Reese’s startled peal of laughter hung in the air as Leo bundled her inside the apartment, kicking the door shut and locking it haphazardly. Within seconds, her coat had been stripped away, panties ripped down the center by desperate male hands, tossed by the wayside. In nothing but heels, she was thrown up onto the closest surface, a narrow entry table that knocked loudly into the wall, sending mail in a colorful waterfall to the floor.

“I forgot the sandwiches,” she gasped.

“Forgiven,” he rasped, his eyes raking down the front of her. “It’s forgiven.”

“I guess you didn’t think my naked-gram was corny and played out,” Reese breath-laughed, a split second before Leo’s mouth landed on top of hers, hard to soft, spreading, tongues delving greedily, pulses flying into twin gallops.

His mouth moved south from her lips, sucking at the exposed skin of her throat, neck, shoulders. “Corny and played out? As soon as puberty hits, men start fantasizing about a naked woman showing up at their door. We keep thinking about it until we die.” He lowered his head to tongue her perked up nipples, one, then the other. “Jesus, Reese. My dick is so hard, I can barely think straight.”

She captured his face, bringing him back for a kiss. “Don’t think.”

Leo jerked down his zipper and applied the condom, breaching her with a stuttered groan a moment later and hitting the ground running, ramming the table into the wall with an unrestrained thrust, two, three, her ass squeaking on the wood, legs jostling around his hips.

Reese tipped her head back and moaned. “Oh my God.”

“It’s so goddamn good,” he growled into her neck, pumping into her again, faster, faster, until they were straining, fingernails digging into flesh, the sounds of frantic fucking echoing around the hazy afternoon sun of the apartment. And she loved every wince that crossed his face, every bite of his lip when he tried not to come. She was blessedly naked, he was fully clothed, save his lowered zipper, and it felt naughty, illicit, while still being exactly, perfectly right. Because it was her and Leo. “Did you come here to spread your legs for me?” The gritted words were almost inaudible amidst the table slamming into the wall. “Do you love how deep I can get it?”

“Yes,” she panted. “Yesyesyes.”

“I’ve got you,” he said raggedly, reaching down to polish her clit with the flat of his thumb, those hips never stopping, never ceasing in their attack, ramming, ramming, ramming that table into the wall, his head falling back on a groan. “I’ve got this pussy.”

His utter thickness stroked everywhere at once, his touch relentless on her sensitive nub, and finally their mouths met to push her over the edge. She screamed, arching her back, her femininity rejoicing in the way he knocked the table out of the way and finished her roughly against the wall, her ass clutched tightly in his hands.

“You’re my tight little fuck, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he gritted into her ear, grinding deep one last time and letting out a guttural sound, his grip turned bruising on her bottom. “Yeah. You are. God yeah, you are. Mine.”



She couldn’t even begin to deny it.

They exhaled long and jagged, Reese closing her eyes and memorizing the way his climax pulsed into her, one lick of heat at a time, that giant body shuddering, suffering through the pleasure until it let him down and they sank into one another, sliding down the wall into a heap. A beat passed and then Leo drew her into his lap, slowly kissing her hairline and cheeks, finally reaching her mouth and drawing her into a savoring kiss.

“Spend Valentine’s Day with me,” he said, pulling back to study her.

With her heart lodged in her throat, there was nothing else she could say but, “Yes.”

An hour later, Leo traced the curve of Reese’s back with his fingertips, marveling over the fact that this girl was in his bed, naked, drowsy, incredible. They were sprawled out in his sheets after round two of the sweatiest, dirtiest sex of his life, made all the more amazing by the fact that his fucking heart had been in it the whole time. To be able to look someone in the eye and say every word bombarding his brain, except for those three bombshell ones, was an experience he’d never known enough to covet.

Reese had piled her hair on top of her head in one of those sideways sagging knots, the strands snarled from his fingers. With her chin propped on a fist, she looked over the stack of remaining Fixes for Valentine’s Day he’d yet to fill.

“Aww, listen to this one,” she said, her voice scratchy from screaming into his pillow. “This guy is ordering a Fix for his mom. She’s a bus driver in Queens, hasn’t taken a day off in decades, loves to garden. No citrus.”

“I have some rose extract at the shop.”

“Really? I didn’t even know that existed. What would you pair it with?”

“White chocolate, maybe.” He traced the delicious swell of her backside. “Blackberry.”

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