Fix You

by Mari Carr

  Rob cupped her ass with his free hand, urging her on. While her motions were sluggish, even a bit ungainly, she didn’t resist.

  “I’m never going to be finished with you,” he admitted.

  His words stopped her for a moment. Her lips lifted in a crooked grin. “Could make it rough for me at work. Not sure Nick would like it if I tried to transpose depositions while riding your cock.”

  “I’m never going to stop wanting you. I think I promised you kinky and dirty a few months ago”

  Her smile never dimmed. “Sounds compelling. Tell me more.”

  “How would you feel about experimenting? Handcuffs, anal, wax play? I want to try it all with you.”

  Her inner muscles tightened against his cock. He knew it. Knew Zoey had a rough edge she’d failed to recognize. A wild side she’d yet to explore.

  “What if I don’t want that? What if I say no?”

  She was testing him. He pressed harder on her clit, gathering up some of her body’s moisture. Reaching behind her, he spread her ass cheeks and pushed the tip of his wet finger inside her ass. “Are you saying no?”

  She shook her head and, for a moment, he paused. Was she resisting his offer? No. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way he’d read her wrong.

  “No. I’m not saying no. I want to try all that too. You’re the only man I’ve ever trusted enough to play that way. But, Robbie, the games are going to go both ways.”

  He narrowed his eyes. She was about to corner him and he knew there was no way around it. “How so?”

  “I want to tie you up too. And I’m definitely going to push your anal boundaries.” Her smile was wicked, wanton and too much to resist.

  “Shit.” His control was fading fast. Dirty talk got to him every time. He lifted her off his lap, ignoring her protests.

  Her arguments faded when he threw a pillow on the floor for her knees and bent her over the coffee table. She hissed when her nipples brushed the cool glass surface. “Cold.”

  “We’ll heat it up. Ready to christen another piece of furniture?”

  She nodded and Rob entered her again. Despite his best efforts, he knew this wouldn’t last long. Doggie-style was his favorite position. He loved how deep he could go, how hard he could move against her.

  Zoey met him thrust for thrust, crying out loudly when he reached around her waist and rubbed her clit. Hot juices covered his fingers as he pressed more firmly.

  With his free hand, he grasped her hip, urging her to move even faster.

  “God, Zoey.” He couldn’t fight it any longer. She hadn’t misspoken about the power of the moment. His heart beat so quickly, he feared it would burst. His chest was tight from a lack of air. His body quivered as his fatigued muscles began to give out.

  Death by incredible sex? So be it.

  Zoey came again and this time he was helpless to resist the pull. His fingers tightened in her flesh as he searched for something to steady him. Jets of come shot from his cock like bullets from a gun, the pulsing so powerful, it almost hurt.

  “Fuck. Jesus. So freaking good.”

  Zoey lay motionless, the side of her face pressed to the coffee table, her eyes shut. As his climax began to wane, he leaned forward, resting his arms on the glass and his forehead against her slick back.

  It felt as if his life passed before his eyes as a million images flew through his mind.

  Of a pretty little girl with sad eyes, pretending to know how to play basketball so he’d keep her company.

  Of that same girl as a teenager, closing her eyes as he kissed her under the pine trees.

  Of the look of shock in her ice-blue eyes when she pressed her body to his the first time they danced and realized how much he wanted her.

  Of her mischievous gaze, her face covered with shaving cream as they wrestled in the bathroom.

  Of her trying to hide a black eye while swallowing her pride and asking if she could come back home.

  Of those same eyes, puffy from too many shed tears, as she told him she had cancer.

  All his life, it was her eyes—Zoey’s beautiful blue eyes—that called to him, spoke to his heart. A tune jiggled and a song played. Her song.

  Lifting up, he slowly withdrew from her body, then together they fell into an exhausted heap on the couch.

  Zoey looked at his face curiously. “That’s a suspicious smile.”

  His grin grew. “I just thought of a new song I want to write.”

  Zoey rolled her eyes. “Awesome. I’m lying here so fucking blown away I’m struggling to remember my own name and you’re composing music in your head. I clearly suck at sex.”

  He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Nope. More like you’re so freaking good at it, you inspire me to compose entire symphonies, operas, movie soundtracks.”

  “Oh. Well, that’s okay then.” She lifted her face to his and they kissed. It was a simple kiss, but the impact of it was just as powerful as the longer, hotter ones. “You know, speaking of muses, you’ve inspired me too.”

  “How so?”

  “I’m going to make us a romantic dinner and then, once we’ve determined it’s inedible, I propose we christen the dining room table. Or the kitchen counter. I’m flexible.”

  Rob laughed as he lifted her leg and placed a quick buss on her ankle. “I’ll be the judge of just how flexible you are.”

  Zoey stood, reaching out a hand to lift him as well. “Shower first? We’re sort of sticky and sweaty.”

  “A shower sounds good.”

  Zoey led the way, holding his hand. “Great. And while we’re in there, I’ll tell you my ideas for redecorating the bathroom.”

  Epilogue

  New Year’s Eve

  Zoey looked around the table and grinned. Another New Year’s Eve and this time, she was celebrating the event in style. She was surrounded by the wine girls, listening as Rob performed with his band. Express Train was on a hiatus from touring and, on a lark, they’d decided to do an impromptu show at the club where they’d first performed. They asked Rob to join them for the special evening. The club owner, Jake, was a good friend of Rob’s and he jumped at the opportunity to host such a big event.

  The bar was packed to the rafters. Jake had given Zoey and her friends a table at the front of the room, offering them the best view of the stage and the dance floor.

  Nearly everyone in the place had come over to speak to her. Thanks to her rock star, she’d become a bit of a celebrity in an odd fashion. Robbie hadn’t lied about her being his muse. He’d written a song called “Zoey’s Eyes”. The Traffic had loved it so much, they’d recorded and released it as a single. It hit the top of the chart within weeks and was shaping up to be their best-selling song of all time.

  She smiled as she watched Robbie jamming on his guitar. He’d recently started playing at the club a couple nights a month. While she truly believed he was happy with the songwriting, she was glad he’d found a way to continue performing. His talent was too good to hide from the world.

  As the song faded, he stepped up to the microphone. “As you all know, we usually don’t cover other band’s songs, but tonight, I talked the guys into backing me up as we perform an awesome song from Cold Play.”

  His gaze searched the room until he found her. “It’s called ‘Fix You’ and I’d like to dedicate it to Zoey. It was a rough year, baby, but from here on out, things will be better, I promise.”

  Josie leaned closer. “Holy shit. I love this song. I’m totally going to cry.”

  Zoey nodded. “I made a New Year’s resolution not to cry this year.”

  Robbie began singing and despite her best efforts, tears formed in her eyes. She glanced at Josie. “Of course, it’s not midnight yet.”

  Josie sniffled, picking up a napkin to wipe her nose, while handing one to Zoey as well. “Good. We still have time.”

  They laughed quietly as tears streamed down their cheeks. As the song ended, Zoey blew Robbie a kiss.

 
He smiled. “Marry me.”

  Zoey blinked rapidly, uncertain she’d heard the words despite the fact he spoke them directly into the microphone.

  Georgie, who was sitting on her other side, nudged her. “Nod, Zoey. The man just proposed and if you don’t say yes, I’ll kick your ass.”

  Zoey nodded rapidly. Fuck it. She’d have to come up with another resolution. There was no way she’d make it through an entire year without shedding a few happy tears. Robbie had a knack for touching her heart, in a way no one else had ever managed.

  His smile shone brighter than the spotlights on the stage. “Yes?” His voice betrayed his excitement and maybe a bit of amazement.

  “Yes.” Her voice carried loud and clear, helped by the fact the room had gone quiet, waiting for her response. That silence only lasted a second before the crowd erupted into applause and loud hoots. Robbie took off his guitar, hopping down from the stage. She stood and met him halfway across the dance floor. Picking her up, he swung her around as the wine girls laughed and cheered him on.

  She gasped when he reached into his pocket and pulled out an engagement ring. He slid it on to her finger, then gave her the most beautiful kiss of her life.

  She’d done it.

  She’d gotten her second chance.

  At love.

  At happiness.

  At life.

  About the Author

  Writing a book was number one on Mari’s bucket list and on her thirty-fourth birthday, she set out to see that goal achieved. Now her computer is jammed full of stories—novels, novellas, short stories and dead-ends. A New York Times and USA Today bestseller as well as winner of the Passionate Plume, Mari found time for writing by squeezing it into the hours between 3 a.m. and daybreak when her family is asleep and the house is quiet.

  You can visit Mari’s website at www.maricarr.com.

  She is also on www.facebook.com/pages/Mari-Carr/104162059662687 and www.twitter.com/MariCarr.

  She blogs at International Heat (internationalheat.wordpress.com) and hangs out on the Heat Wave Readers Yahoo group:

  http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Heat_Wave_Readers/join

  Look for these titles by Mari Carr

  Now Available:

  Because of You

  Because You Love Me

  Because It’s True

  Black and White Collection

  Erotic Research

  Tequila Truth

  Rough Cut

  Happy Hour

  Power Play

  Slam Dunk

  Learning Curves

  Dangerous Curves

  Wicked Curves

  Compass Brothers

  Northern Exposure

  Southern Comfort

  Eastern Ambitions

  Western Ties

  Love’s Compass

  Who says you can only score on the court?

  Slam Dunk

  © 2011 Mari Carr

  A Black & White Story

  Trey Donovan is mourning the end of summer with fellow teachers when Ellie Hunter walks into Tully’s Bar. Better yet, she’s now a former rival basketball coach and the newest science teacher at his high school. He can’t think of anyone better to fill the vacant assistant coach job. In fact, if he plays his cards right, she might end up his perfect match off the court, too.

  If she stops holding him at arm’s length long enough to give him a chance.

  Coming off a year of bad decisions that not only broke her heart, but cost her a job, Ellie has good reason to swear off workplace romances. Her undeniable—and undeniably mutual—attraction to Trey is a serious threat to her resolve. Especially since Trey’s too-easy capitulation to her boundaries stings just a little too much.

  Funny thing, though. When she sees Trey dancing with someone else, the edges of her vision turn decidedly green. And when another man tries to kiss Ellie, Trey sees red.

  Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to fudge the rules. Just a little. After all, casual sex doesn’t count. Right?

  Warning: Lots of red-hot, half-dressed court presses complete with sex toys, food, bubble baths, strip poker and, oh yeah, balls.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Slam Dunk:

  “Hey guys,” Cheryl called out as she walked into Tully’s. “Look who I found in the parking lot.”

  Trey glanced up and, for a moment, he felt as if he’d been sucker punched. Ellie Hunter followed Cheryl and Lucas to the table.

  Then Trey’s grin grew and he stood. “Take a wrong turn, Coach Hunter? Harper’s Ridge is on the other side of town.”

  Ellie smiled, but before she could speak, Grace answered. “I invited her. We ran into each other at school today.”

  Trey frowned, looking at Ellie. “Why were you at Preston?”

  “I had a new teacher meeting to attend. I was checking out my classroom when I ran into Grace.”

  Jamie looked at Grace. “Why the hell would you go to school on the last day of summer?”

  Grace blushed slightly. “I wanted to work on my bulletin board.”

  Lucas laughed. “Nerd.”

  Grace threw a pretzel at Lucas’s head while the others laughed. Ordinarily Trey would have been amused by their antics, but he was too busy trying to wrap his head around the idea that Ellie “Hottie” Hunter was now his colleague rather than his competition. She looked smokin’ hot in short shorts and a T-shirt that showcased her perfect curves. Trey felt his cock stir.

  “Here,” Trey said, grabbing a chair from an empty table nearby and placing it next to his. He suddenly felt the need to have Ellie in his space, close to him. “Have a seat.”

  Ellie acknowledged his friendly gesture with a quick nod of thanks and sexy smile as they sat.

  Lucas grabbed an empty glass and filled it, passing it over to Ellie. “So you left Harper’s Ridge, huh? Finally decide you wanted to teach at a good school with a winning athletics program?”

  Ellie rolled her eyes. “You must be Lucas. Grace warned me about you.”

  Lucas wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh yeah? You like bad boys?”

  Trey narrowed his eyes at his friend, annoyed. While they were both known as being flirts—and players—Trey didn’t like the idea of Lucas hitting on Ellie.

  “Bad boy?” Trey scoffed. “Jesus, Lucas. You’re as much a bad boy as Justin Bieber.”

  They all laughed as Lucas playfully punched Trey on the arm.

  Ellie took a sip of the beer. “I needed a change of scenery,” she replied in response to Lucas’s earlier question. “Preston had an opening in the science department, so I took it.”

  “What about coaching?” Trey asked, surprised she would give up something she’d so obviously loved.

  She shrugged. “There wasn’t an opening to coach basketball at Preston. I mean, that is unless you wanna quit and hand the reins over to someone who actually knows a bit about the sport.”

  He grinned. Oh yeah, suddenly Trey wasn’t dreading the end of summer. This school year was looking to be his best yet. It wouldn’t be hard going to work if Ellie was there providing the eye candy. “Not likely. Besides, considering the fact I took my girls’ team to the state championship a couple of years ago, I’d say I know plenty about the game.”

  Ellie wasn’t daunted. She leaned closer and Trey caught the light scent of her perfume. Damn, she smelled good. “Word on the street is you’re not going to see that much success this year. Four of your starters graduated in June, which leaves you with a young bench. Anybody can coach naturally talented players. You think you’re up for teaching a bunch of newbies?”

  This was what Trey had missed at the basketball conference. Nobody kept both his feet firmly planted on the ground like Ellie Hunter. “Oh, I’m up for it, sweetheart. You don’t have to worry about that.” Actually, at the moment, he was up for quite a bit. He hoped Ellie didn’t look down or she’d see exactly how much he enjoyed sparring with her. His cock was rock hard and threatening to bust a few seams in his pants.

  “Where the hell did
that summer go?” Cheryl said, waving to the waitress to set them up with another pitcher. “I’m warning y’all now. I’m drinking and dancing my ass off tonight. I’m fucking depressed.”

  Trey topped up Cheryl’s glass. “You say the same thing every year at this happy hour.”

  Cheryl shrugged. “Why do you think I had Lucas pick me up? I came prepared. DD and all.”

  “Speaking of dancing,” Trey said, when the sound of Usher filled the room, “I lined up a few classics in the jukebox for us.”

  Jamie groaned. “Christ, man. You picked all black music, didn’t you? Bet you didn’t fire up one single country song.”

  Trey stood up and gave Jamie a shit-eating grin. They constantly waged this friendly battle over music. “My dollar, my picks.”

  He was surprised when Ellie rose quickly. “I love this song.” She grabbed Trey’s hand and led him to the bar’s tiny dance floor. Cheryl and Lucas were hot on their heels and Trey noticed Grace leading an only somewhat reluctant Jamie as well.

  He started to move to the music, watching as Ellie lost herself to the song. Holy fuck. She could dance.

  After years of Grace and Cheryl’s hilarious attempts at keeping up with him on the dance floor, he was blown away by Ellie’s natural grace and rhythm. She had some sexy-as-hell moves for a white girl. On top of that, she knew all the words to the song. When she mouthed along with Ludacris about wanting “a freak in the bed”, he resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t going to make it through this night without jerking off to relieve his hard-on.

  Ellie turned around and moved against him. For a second, he tried to hold her away, knowing there was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection. Then, he figured what the hell. There was nothing he wanted more than to feel her tight ass rubbing against him. He reached for her waist and pressed her closer. If she was surprised by his actions—as well as his cock rubbing against her lower back—she didn’t show it. In fact, she moved slower, more sinuously.