Fix It Up (Torus Intercession 3)

“I’m your fixer and––”

“Talk, talk, talk,” he whispered, pressing his thigh between mine, widening my stance as he leaned in and kissed the base of my throat. “It’s all you do,” he whispered, kissing behind my ear, nuzzling as both hands gripped my hips and squeezed tight. “And I’ve followed every rule, done everything you asked, and it was good, and I’m glad I did, and I’m so thankful and very grateful, but now, Loc, I want my fuckin’ reward.”

I met his gaze and glared at him. “This is why I’m leaving as soon as we get back home. Now that you’re all fixed up, suddenly you’re thinking I’m, what, some piece of ass that you get because you finished the goddamn program?” I yelled at him.

“God, you’re an idiot,” he said indulgently, grinning at me lazily, hands lifting to the sides of my neck. “I don’t mean that you’re a prize for me getting my life together. I mean I want the reward of having you, all of you, in my bed, yes, but that’s only part of it. The reward is you being with me, in my life, period.”

I shook my head. “Your judgment is clouded, and I know because this has happened to me before. Clients get confused because when a fixer does their job, the clients tend to get attached.”

“I am not attached,” he assured me, quickly working open my damp belt and then the top button of my wet jeans, reaching under the elastic waistband of my briefs to take hold of my dick. “Or I should say, I’m way more than just attached.”

I bucked forward into his hand, the grip he had on me so perfect, so possessive and dominant that a sound I didn’t want him to hear, ever, tumbled out of my throat. It was mewling and desperate and came from way down deep.

“Attached is simple and easy,” he told me, whispering roughly in my ear as he stroked me from balls to head once, and then again, tugging the second time, smearing the drops of precum over the tip. “It’s friendly, and there’s gratitude and appreciation mixed in there.”

I pushed into his rough grip, my breath catching as I struggled for control.

“How I feel is so much more than that,” he ground out.

“Lemme go,” I whispered, not meaning it in the least. “All this is, is gratitude and––”

“I’m not letting you go,” he declared flatly, kissing under my jaw. “I’m keeping you, our house, everyone in it, and it goes without saying that I’m keeping your mother. You made my life perfect, and you think I’m letting you leave me?” His chuckle was low and dirty. “Oh, baby, you have not been paying attention.”

I was drowning in his words, his touch, the press of him against me, his control, and his soft, wet, warm lips on my skin, kissing and sucking, nibbling up the side of my throat.

“You’re my missing piece, Loc. You’re the one who stands between me and the world. You’re my home, and I’m going to make sure that, from now on, you’re very clear about how I feel because holy shit, I almost fucked up that night with Jamie.”

“What’re––” I husked out as he pressed his face to the side of my neck. “What?”

“You thought I was going to fuck Jamie, and that is nuts,” he said, his voice a gravelly rumble. “Like I can even see anyone but you.”

I mustered my strength and shoved him away from me. I realized, of course, how crazy it was that I was standing there in my mother’s garden with my dick hanging out, trying to catch my breath while he was dressed, composed, the only evidence of his arousal being his cock straining against his zipper, and his utterly molten gaze.

“You need to get outta here,” I told him. “You’re horny, I get it, but you need to go find someone who––”

“How did I know you were going to be difficult,” he grumbled, pressing up against me again, his hands on my face, holding me still as he kissed me.

His hot mouth on mine was ruthless and devouring, and I was lost. It felt like an ache under my skin, the need to submit to him, to give myself over, put myself in his hands. When I kissed him back, wanting to taste more of him, the need twisted into a desperate yearning so quickly that I surprised myself.

“Oh yes,” he croaked out, “kiss me again.”

“I’m taking advantage of your feelings for––”

“My feelings are solid and unchangeable,” he informed me. “Kiss me now.”

I put my hands on his face and kissed him soundly, mauling his mouth, and when I got the keening whimper I was after, I grinned.

“I swear to God my heart stops every time you smile,” he moaned as he took hold of my shaft, stroking like I belonged to him, my own hands on his face, holding him so I could bury my tongue in his sweetness and warmth.