Page 44 of Dirty
I didn’t need a second invitation. The orgasm was an explosion; it went off inside my head and between my legs at the same time. I clawed at Fix’s shoulders, desperate to get closer to him as an incomprehensible surge of pure ecstasy swept through every cell in my body. “Fuck! Oh, fuck!”
Fix buried his face into the crook of my neck, groaning deeply, fighting with his breath as he slammed himself into me, over and over again. He came just as hard as me.
And when he came, the sound of his savage cry echoed so loudly that even the stars, tiny pinpricks of flickering light, just beginning to appear in the darkening sky overhead, seemed to tremble and shake.
TWENTY
CRIMINAL MISCHIEF IN THE THIRD DEGREE
SERA
It was inexplicable, really. I’d been dreading this wedding for months, and yet, through a series of weird, fucked up, very disturbing events, I’d ended up actually enjoying some of it.
Gareth was still prowling around the lobby, searching for Fix, when we snuck back into the hotel. We slipped in through an open side door, hoping to avoid the reception, which was still in full swing, if you could call dull conversation over quiet classical music full swing. Gareth spied us, bee-lining straight for us, his index finger already extended in a very accusatory manner, mouth pulled down at the corners in a furious grimace.
We fast-walked in the direction of the stairs, but he intercepted us, cutting us off at the pass. “Do you have any idea what kind of penalty willful destruction of property carries in this state, asshole?” he snapped at Fix.
Fix grinned at him. “Nope. Don’t care.”
“It’s classified as criminal mischief in the third degree, you fucker.”
“Sounds scary.”
“You’re going to jail for six months at least!” Gareth spat the words, a giant vein throbbing in his neck, his face a frightening shade of crimson, and I couldn’t leash the surge of laughter that burst out of my mouth.
“Do you have any proof that Fix pissed in your car, Gareth?”
“I don’t need proof. The bastard hasn’t denied it!”
I turned to Fix. “Felix, did you urinate in this fine gentleman’s vehicle?”
“Me? Lord, no. I’d never do such a thing.”
Somehow, both of us had adopted British accents, which made absolutely no sense, and only made it harder to keep a straight face.
“You think this is funny? You’re going to regret fucking with me, Marcosa. I promise you that. And you!” Gareth stabbed his index finger into my shoulder. “You’re fuckinginsane. I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d bring a guy like this to Amy’s wedding. You’re damaged goods. I dodged a fucking bullet when I—” He was moving to jab me with his finger again, but Fix moved like lightning, snatching hold of his index, stepping between us.
“Should I let him apologize?” Fix ground out. His voice was layered with anger, so deep it made my heart stutter.
“Gareth never was very good at apologies,” I said softly. It was the truth. Even after I’d walked in on him and fucking that blond in his office, he hadn’t once said he was sorry. He’d blamed me for not holding his attention. He’d said it was my fault for not making an effort to be more interesting.
“Got it.” Fix’s hand snapped back in a flash, and something else snapped right along with it…
Gareth’s finger.
His howl tore through the hotel lobby, yet no one came running to find out what was wrong. Not even Arianna. “You ever touch her again, I won’t just break your remaining fingers. I’ll break your fucking dick in two, and I’ll feed it to the dogs. Now disappear. Right fucking now.”
Gareth’s anger shone out of his eyes like twin beams of pure hatred. “You’re gonna—”
Fix took another step forward, and Gareth shut the hell up. He held his hand to his chest, clutching at it, backing away. He turned and stormed back into the wedding reception, hollering for Arianna at the top of his lungs, and I watched him go without the slightest flicker of remorse. Fix wouldn’t have done a thing if I’d asked him to stand down, but the humiliation and the embarrassment Gareth had put me through last year, not to mention the heartache…
I’d thought I loved him. I’d thought he and I were going to be together forever. I shivered out of that thought, thanking my lucky stars. Whatever Gareth said, it wasmewho’d actually dodged the bullet. “We’d better get the hell out of here,” I said. “Amy’s probably drunk by now. I don’t want her to try and murder me the next time I see her, though.”
“I haven’t even met her yet,” Fix mused.
“You can come to her second wedding in a couple of years,” I told him. “This one’s bound to fail.” I attempted to head up the stairs, but Fix took hold of me by the wrist. He pressed something into my hand: a crumpled yellow valet ticket.
“Why don’t you give this to the bellman and have him get the truck? I can grab our bags and be down here in a couple of minutes.”
