Page 30 of Dirty
My body locked up as I felt hands on me—Fix’s hands, skating over my hips, sliding over the massive t-shirt I’d worn to bed last night. The back of my neck prickled in response to his warm breath caressing my skin.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
His chest pressed up against my back, and…something else…brushing up against my ass. God, he had an erection. He was hard as hell, and he wasn’t making any efforts to hide the fact as he lowered his mouth into the crook of my neck, brushing my skin with his lips.
I froze.
Jesus…
How were good girls supposed to stay good whenbad boys like Fix made it so ease to sin? How the fuck were smart girls supposed to retain their sanity, not to mention their heads, when they had Felix Marcosa’s hands roaming all over their body? It just…it wasn’t fucking possible. It wasn’t fucking fair. Fix’s voice sent a chill charging through my veins, rocking me to my core.
“I thought you said you didn’t like playing games,” he whispered.
“I don’t.”
“Then why did you just play that girl so hard, she didn’t know what fucking day of the week it was?”
With every word, his lips grazed my neck, and a volley of anticipation, mixed with fear burned over my skin. “She’s not as oblivious as she makes out to be. She plays the simpering idiot, but she knows exactly what she’s doing. There’s no such thing as innocent flirtation with Arianna Foster. So what if I fucked with her a little?”
“Mmmm…” Fix hands moved up my body, stroking over my stomach and then back down my thighs again. A heady wave of pleasure flowed through me, and my eyes rolled back in my head. Thank god he couldn’t see. If he knew the effect he was having on me…
“I know I’m good with my tongue, by the way. I know I’m good with my hands. It’s nice to hear you admit it out loud, though, Angel. I could always treat you to round two, if you’d like? I could lick and suck and tease your clit. I could lave at it until you came, and then I could lick you some more. I could slide my fingers inside your pussy and tease that little spot you like. The one that has you bucking against me, screaming my fucking name. And when you’re done coming, when you’re boneless and half blind from the orgasms I’ve given you, I could lick you clean.”
Oh… Shit…
“As for the way you handled the redhead. I enjoyed the show, Sera,” he murmured. “You’re full of piss and vinegar when you’re defending what’s yours.”
That was it. That was enough to snap me out of my moment of stupidity. I stepped out of his arms, shaking off the desire that had, for a second, made me forget who Fix Marcosa really was. My face was trained into a deadpan, flat void when I spun around and locked eyes with him. “You’renotmine, Fix.We’renot…this isn’t a thing. You’re abadperson. You do know that, don’t you?”
The charming, devil-may-care grin that was plastered all over Fix’s face didn’t slip, but there was a flash of something akin to pain that shone out of his strange, pale blue eyes. It was only there for a split second, but I saw it. I saw how badly I’d hurt him.
“Yep. You have me dead to rights, Lafferty.” Inhaling, he looked around the room, stretching that breathtaking body of his like a cat lounging out in the sun. “Since you’re awake now and there are no more bridesmaids to coo over me, I guess I’d better go and find myself a suit.”
Urgh. Of course he didn’t have a suit. “How the hell are you going to find a suit in a hotel in the middle of nowhere?”
My stomach did something strange as Fix slid his arms into a t-shirt and threw the thin black material over his head. He looked so good in a tee. Shit, the man looked good in absolutely anything he put on his body. He’d be able to make a trash bag look amazing, for fuck’s sake. I turned away, refusing to allow myself to watch him as he kicked his feet into a pair of dark grey jeans, torn and ripped at the knees.
“I’ll find a way, Lafferty,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. “I always do. I’m a very resourceful guy.”
FOURTEEN
BAD PERSON
FIX
My dick was as hard as a concrete post, and there was nothing I could fucking do about it. I could have slipped into a bathroom and jerked off, but where was the fun in that? It would get the job done, relieving some of the pressure that had been building up in my pants, but fuck…
I didn’t want my own hands on my cock. I didn’t even want that redhead’s hands on my cock, even though she had been fairly pretty and her mouth looked like it was used to being wrapped about a boner. I wanted Sera’s hands on me, and if I couldn’t have her, then I didn’t want anyone else.
How the fuck had this happened? How had I decided somewhere along the way that I wanted her? Like, really wanted her? Not just for a night, but for longer. She was literally the worst person to pursue, and I knew myself. That was probably the exact reason why I’d formed such an obsessive attraction to her over the past few days. It was as if my dick enjoyed setting me up for failure and catastrophe. I had to keep reminding it that we were on the same team, but it didn’t appear to be listening. Bastard.
Okay. A suit. I needed to find a suit.
The concierge would probably have one. People left clothes in hotels all the time. They hung them up in the closet and forget all about them. I didn’t want someone’s misplaced second hand shit, though. Just because I was crashing this wedding didn’t mean I couldn’t look sharp.
There were people wandering around in the lobby, drinking mimosas, wearing robes or their pajamas, chatting politely with one another. Obviously they weren’t dressed or ready for the ceremony yet, but the lure of alcohol in the lobby had been too much for them. Drinkers. My favorite. A million years ago, a different lifetime ago, in fact, I used to warn people of the dangers of imbibing too much alcohol from a pulpit. Then, after everyone had left, their faith and their good intentions reinvigorated after my stirring speech, I’d get so fucked up that I couldn’t walk straight.
