THE FIXER

33



Like every time she innocently touches another man.

“Yeah, I’ll go.” Dima answers first.

Pavel turns off the television. “Sure.” He gets up and Nikolai follows.

“What about Ravil and Lucy?” I ask.

“I think they’re occupied.” Nikolai waggles his brows, and the rest of us groan.

“Yeah…” I look at Sasha, wondering again why I agreed to this when I could have her naked in my bed by now.

“Give me twenty minutes,” she says, zipping off to my-our-bedroom suite.”

I glance at the guys before I follow. “Make it thirty-five.”

I catch Sasha in the closet where I tear her dress off her body. “Oh! Gospodi, Maxim.” She whirls to face me, her hands against my chest, her eyes wide with surprise.

It’s easy to forget she’s innocent, but I see it glimmer through her bravado now. There’s a touch of astonishment and nerves along with the excitement.

I trail my hand up her ass, my middle finger tracing along her g-string into her crack. I nuzzle her neck. “I want you again, lyubimaya. Are you too sore?”

Rather than answer, she drops to her knees and unbuttons my pants.

Fuck. I’m an asshole because I know that means she’s too sore, but I’m incapable of stopping that lush mouth from wrapping around my dick again. She pulls out my cock and fists it at the base, taking me deep into her mouth.

I tighten my fingers in her hair then force them to open and massage the back of her head instead. “Twice in one day. You make me feel like a fucking king.” My voice sounds two octaves deeper than usual.

Sasha’s blue gaze comes up to meet mine. She knows she’s a badass at giving head-I can tell by the blaze of glory in her eyes.

I gather her hair into a ponytail in the back to get the full view of her face. “So sweet… so fucking good.” My head drops back. I’m babbling now, surrendering to the delicious sensations of her tongue swirling beneath my cock, her cheeks hollowing out to suck me hard. “I won’t last long, lyubimaya.” I don’t know when she became my love. One minute she was a pain in my ass, now she’s becoming my whole world.

My thighs start to shake. I can’t help myself, I start to direct, pulling her mouth over me faster, thrusting into her throat. I close my eyes, letting the pressure build, the pleasure intensifying.

“Fuck, Sasha,” I curse. “I’m going to come.”

Like last time, she doesn’t pull off, instead sucks harder and faster. I shout and come and she takes it, swallowing it all down before she comes off with a saucy smile.

I zip and pull her up to kiss hard, walking her backward until her ass hits the wall. “You want my mouth on you now, sugar?”

I see hunger and need on her face, but she shakes her head. “Rain check.”

I nuzzle her neck and slip my hand into one of her bra cups. “I’m sorry if I was too rough with you this morning.”

“You were perfect,” she murmurs.

I tip her chin up to kiss her again. I want to consume her. Own her so fully she never runs from me. Make her fall in love.

Damn. That’s it, isn’t it? I want my wife to fall in love with me.

How in the fuck did that happen? When did that happen?

“Come on, I don’t want to miss Oleg’s girlfriend play.” Sasha pushes gently at my chest. I steal one more kiss before I release her.

“Sing,” I correct because the woman he likes is the singer in the band. “She’s not his girlfriend. Just a girl he likes. Maybe you can help him get her number. He seemed like he was going to bash my face in the last time when I tried to talk to her on his behalf.”

“Ooh, this is going to be fun.” Sasha digs through her suitcases, pulling out a pair of skinny jeans and a hot bustier. A pair of high heels completes the outfit.

I change my shirt and watch her flit about the room and bathroom getting ready. I don’t know why I’m so fascinated by every move she makes. Her quick application of make up. The brushing of her thick hair. Rolling a scent on her wrists and throat. I catch her wrist and bring it to my nose. It’s nothing cloying-not some chemical perfume smell that will make me want to shower after she hugs me. It’s a warm citrus scent that makes me want to eat her up.

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“I was born ready.” She tosses that saucy grin at me, and I scoop my forearm under her ass, scooping her up to straddle me. She shrieks as I carry her out the bedroom door and into the suite where Dima, Nikolai and Pavel wait.

Dima flicks a brow. “I won.”

“Won what?” I ease Sasha down to her feet and loop an arm around her waist.

“The bet. They didn’t think you’d, um, convince Sasha to stay in less time than it took Ravil to keep Lucy from running.”

“I will throat punch all of you,” I warn, tugging Sasha past the assholes and out the door. “Ignore them,” I tell her. “We both know I’ve won nothing yet.”

Sasha

Rue’s Lounge is a hipster lounge-grungy but very cool. It’s located in the basement of a more industrial area of town. The band hasn’t started, but Oleg has staked out the closest two-top to the stage where he sits with a pint of craft beer in front of him.

“Hey, how’s it going?” I touch his shoulder before remembering with a smile that Maxim doesn’t like it.

I’m irrationally pleased by his irrational possessiveness. Especially because he doesn’t make me feel like a whore, he makes me feel desirable. Highly desirable.

I take the free chair next to Oleg while Maxim and the other three guys scrounge chairs from other tables and arrange them around our tiny table. A cocktail waitress arrives promptly, and we all get a round of the local brew on tap. As we sit, the place starts filling up.


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