The Fixer

by HelenKay Dimon

  Emery walked by the built-in bar and stopped at the head of the table. She shuffled a few pages around before moving them to the side. Scanned the document left on top. “You’ve been working.”

  That sounded neutral. Sort of. “I promised you I would help.”

  She looked up. “And you keep your promises.”

  He had no idea where this conversation was going or even what it was about, but he needed to face the spur of the moment choices he made earlier. Grabbing on to the top of a chair, he stood directly across from her. “Look, I know I messed up tonight.”

  “How?”

  Her head tilted to the side in that sexy way that had his breath stuttering inside his chest. She had that power. The strength to push on over unimaginable pain. The smarts to build a life outside the shadow of her well-respected father and the girl who vanished in an unspeakable instant. The drive to find him, to make him step up. She could read him and had him reorganizing parts of his life to include her.

  He’d never met another woman like her. Never had one sneak under his defenses. Never been pulled in and whipped around. Never lowered the shields. And never had more trouble keeping up with a conversation. Her mind moved and he struggled to match her. “I don’t understand the question.”

  “I’m wondering if you really know what you did wrong.” She pulled out a chair and sat down. Looked comfortable and right lounging there in his house.

  “It’s the control thing.” He thought that summed up most of his personality.

  “See, I think you really don’t understand how far over the line you stepped.” She drummed her fingers on the nearest paper stack. “I mean, you get it on some level, mostly because I got angry and your friend Garrett seemed shocked by your behavior. But I think you’d do it again.”

  If it meant keeping her safe? Hell, yeah. “I wouldn’t use the plane a second time.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “You think the only issue was your choice of transportation?”

  She didn’t sound angry, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “No.”

  “Good guess.” The chair creaked as she got up again. She wandered into the kitchen, dragging her fingertips along the stone countertop, and slipped behind the island to stand by the sink. “Water?”

  “Right.” Of course she needed a drink. He could use something stronger, but water worked. He joined her, stopping only to open the refrigerator and grab two bottles. “Do you want a glass?”

  “No need.” She unscrewed the cap and took a long drink. Playing with the cap, she looked around. “This isn’t what I thought your house would look like.”

  “You were expecting a cave?” He turned around to lean against the counter and face her. His outer thigh brushed against hers, but neither of them moved away.

  “More like a bunch of cold marble and fancy expensive lights.”

  “I strike you as fancy?” He fought the urge to scan the open area. Not that he needed a reminder. He’d picked out everything that went into his house. Moved in, stripped out all the shiny mirrors and stone floors. Replaced every slick surface. Switched to weathered hardwoods and furniture he actually wanted to sit on.

  He wasn’t home all that often, so when he was he wanted it to actually feel like a home. Something he never had growing up. A place to relax, not a prop for his father’s court case.

  She shook her head. “Not really.”

  “Then I don’t understand this conversation.” A usual occurrence with her. He was growing accustomed to the sensation of being one step behind when dealing with her. At first it bothered him. Now he waited for the what-the-hell-is-she-talking-about moment to arrive every time he saw her.

  She stepped in between his outstretched legs. “Did your wife decorate it?”

  Ah, that’s what this was. An information-gathering session. Made sense. He could handle this. “She never lived here. We were divorced long before I started Owari, back when the only money I had was what I’d earned working for Quint.”

  She glanced behind her then back to him. “The comfortable chairs and big stone fireplace are all you?”

  She seemed to be confused about the concept of him living alone. “Who else would they be?”

  “A designer.”

  Now there was a nightmare thought. “I barely let Garrett in here.”

  “Good point.” She set the water bottle on the counter next to him and eased in a bit closer. “What was her name?”

  He didn’t pretend to be confused. “Shauna.”

  “Do you still love her?”

  A smart man would hedge, throw out a line, but he promised he’d never do that. Shauna deserved more respect than that. He blew it, not her. “I’ll always love her.”

  Some of the light left Emery’s face. “I see.”

  “You don’t.” He set his bottle down next to hers and rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “The problem was that I was never in love with her. We were friends who survived shitty upbringings. We gravitated toward each other. Got each other out and away from the mess.”

  The tension drained from Emery’s face. “She knew about your parents.”

  “She was there through it all, including the time when I wanted to kill my dad.”

  Emery blinked a few times. “You mean you thought about it.”

  “I mean I tried to.” Forget wading in. He dove right off the cliff. He skipped over the details about the nights of hiding and following. All the time he logged on the shooting range. The stacks of paper outlining plan after plan for getting the job done. But he hit the highlight. The part she might never forget, and he had no idea why he took that risk.

  “That’s what Quint saved you from doing.” She didn’t touch him, but she didn’t bolt either.

  “He got through when Shauna couldn’t.” As soon as he said her name her face flashed in his mind. The wounded expression he had to claim. He promised never to hurt another woman like that again, which meant staying detached. “You can imagine how that blows a marriage apart.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She’s much happier now.” She had to be because she was pretty miserable with him.

  “Are you?”

  No one ever asked him that before, but he still didn’t hesitate. “Happiness hasn’t been all that important to me.”

  Emery shook her head. “You scare me when you say things like that.”

  He’d never had anyone state a preference for something other than honesty before. “Why?”

  “I think a part of you truly believes that nonsense.” She moved in even closer, bridging the gap between them. Shutting out the distance until their body heat swirled around them. “People deserve happiness, Levi. You deserve it.”

  “Okay.” He increased his stance. Brought her right between his legs until she leaned against him.

  “Tell me your real name.” Still she didn’t touch him. She tucked her hands in her back pockets but maintained that last bit of emotional distance.

  He should have seen that one coming. Dancing around questions about his past. Talking about mundane things like the house. She’d been moving in, circling as she waited for the right time to ask the one thing that mattered to her.

  He applauded the skill. But that didn’t mean he wanted to cough up the information. “Why?”

  “Because I want to know it before we have sex.”

  Well, damn. She picked the one comment guaranteed to smash his guard to pieces. “Is that going to happen tonight?”

  “We’re going to go upstairs and get naked. What happens after that is up to you, but I’m hoping you’ll pick the choice that involves condoms.” She finally rested her palms against his chest. “You do have some, right?”

  “Bought them today.” Because he wasn’t a complete dumbass.

  “Nice.”

  He didn’t want to be an asshole either. He put his hand over hers. Caressed the back of her hand as he said the words that almost killed him to spit out. “You’ve been through a lot tonight and you don
’t have to—”

  “I know what I want and what I need.” Her hand moved under his until her thumb brushed his fingers. “The answer to both questions is you.”

  That was it, then. No other woman he saw in the time since Shauna even knew to question the name he gave them, that being Brian Jacobs. Emery did and never wavered. She made it clear she wanted to know the real thing. An idea that scared the hell out of him, but she hadn’t balked or panicked no matter what bit of truth he dropped on her.

  “Levi Wren Upton.” He hadn’t said it all together like that in years. Hell, he never even used Levi these days. The three together were so disconnected from who he was now and how he led his life. When he held a memorial service and said his final goodbye to his mother he buried Levi Upton, too.

  She smiled. “So, just the last name is different.”

  Warmth radiated off her. The comfort of touching her and soft acceptance in her voice made the admission easier. He never planned to say the name again. One more thing that changed since meeting her.

  “I didn’t want any part of my father to linger. The judge understood why I didn’t want to share a name with my mother’s killer.” He blew out an uneasy breath. “I left Michigan and very quickly became someone else.”

  “I’m not sure changing your name is the same as changing who you are.” She pressed a finger against his chest, right above his heart. “In here.”

  To him they were. The anger stayed, festered. He funneled it all into his business. Into growing it, making it thrive. Becoming successful in a way that wiped out all the insecurities and fears Levi Upton had. Eventually he found stability, the kind that only came with time and the false veneer of moving on. “Wren originally came from my mom because her mother had an aviary in Japan. Wrens were her favorite, so it seemed right to keep it.”

  “One of the few connections to your past.” Before he could ask what that meant, Emery spoke again. “What did Shauna think?”

  “That I’d likely end up in jail for murder.” When they weren’t fighting about money, they fought about that topic.

  Emery’s hands slid up to his shoulders. “Do you miss any part of your old life?”

  Something about this position filled him with a sense of contentment. Her breast pressed against his chest and their bodies met, and he sank into her. The happiness shooting through him contrasted with the rough subject. For a second, guilt slammed into him. Whenever life smoothed out this feeling of not deserving, it rushed in behind. It had been that way his entire life.

  But he didn’t want to stop with a partial story. Emery had the pieces, and he wanted her to understand the framework. To fully understand the man in front of her, the one who wanted to touch her, kiss her . . . be inside her. “I was filled with rage and desperate for revenge. I stalked my father, hunted him down. Tried twice to kill him.”

  “And now I know you’re not exaggerating when you say that.”

  “Not even a little.” Was ten seconds from firing the gun on the second try.

  “Oh, Levi.”

  He expected revulsion or at least a wave of wariness. She offered him empathy. Openness showed on her face. She listened and accepted and either ignored the reality of who he was then or didn’t notice the underlying evil that still ran through him as he stood right in front of her.

  The need to make her understand punched him. “That’s the man you say you want to have sex with tonight.”

  Her arms wound their way around his neck as her fingers slipped into his hair. “That’s the man I want. Period.”

  Those words. “Be sure.”

  She lifted up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth against his. A gentle kiss that promised so much more. “Where’s the bedroom?”

  They barely made it upstairs. Lights clicked on around them as they moved, as if on some unseen timer. They tripped and fumbled their way up the steps through blinding kisses. They spun and their hands toured over each other as they tugged and pulled at each other’s clothes.

  By the time they crossed the threshold to his bedroom she was ready to rip her pants off and jump on the bed. But she forced her breathing to slow, her body to calm down. She wanted to savor this. If the last time they got naked was any indication of the heat they had together, she planned to string it out. Not let go until the very end.

  Then her back hit the oversized mattress. It spanned half of the large room. A super-king-sized bed, if there was such a thing. While she watched him undo his belt and whip it out of his pants, she saw bits of her surroundings. A small couch and a large television. It all blinked out when his shoulders blocked her but, oh, what a welcome view.

  She slid her palms over his bare chest to his biceps. She wasn’t even sure when or how he stripped off his shirt, but she was not sorry. His muscles bulged under her fingertips. Not the kind that were pumped up from hours in the gym. No, he was sleek and lean.

  He had the body of a runner and the hands of a genius. Right now he swept them down her stomach to the top of her jeans. She lifted her hips as he pulled them off. Down went the pants then her underwear, until she was naked and open to him.

  Instead of diving in and taking pleasure, he gave it. His fingers skimmed over her sensitized skin. Her cells burst to life as first his hands then his lips traced over her. When he settled down with his shoulders between her thighs she almost lost her mind. Memories of his mouth and what he could do with it had plagued her all day.

  Real time proved so much better. His tongue moved over the very tops of her inner thighs. He licked and sucked, teasing her skin and bringing her breathing to a stammering halt. When he finally shifted, dragging his mouth over until he feasted on her, she had to grab on to his shoulders then his head to keep from shimmying all around.

  He kissed her there. Used his tongue and his fingers to ready her body for his. Plunged in and out, flicking and enticing, as her hips lifted on a steady beat.

  “Levi, please.” She didn’t even know what she was begging for. She’d say anything, do anything, to reach release. But she wanted him inside her first, making love to her. Their bodies touching everywhere.

  But he didn’t stop. Not until her hands dropped to her sides and her chest rose and fell on harsh breaths. Not until she groaned and chanted his name. Then he moved over her. She barely heard the rip of the condom wrapper. She knew she should find the strength to lift her arms and help get his pants the rest of the way off, but her muscles wouldn’t move. She hovered the fine line between tightening to the point of breaking and sensual lethargy. She craved both. Wanted it all.

  She closed her eyes, just for a second. When she opened them again she could feel the rub of his bare legs against hers. The hair there tickled the backs of her thighs. “You got your pants off.”

  He laughed and the rich sound floated through the room. “Barely.”

  His erection pressed against her. She glanced down and watched him slide the condom on. He rubbed the tip back and forth across her opening until she lifted up, bringing her legs toward her chest. Half on his knees now, he put his hands on the backs of her legs, right by the knees, and began to enter her.

  There was nothing hesitant about the way he filled her. He sank into her on one long thrust that stole her breath. Pulling out, he hesitated for only a second then plunged again.

  Something inside her snapped. Forget the slow mating and seduction of her body by his. She wanted wild and out of control. She wanted to see him out of breath and on the edge.

  Pushing on his shoulders, she got him to ease back. When he looked at her in confusion, she shifted her hips. His smile wasn’t hard to read after that. It lit up his face. With an arm wrapped around her back, he spun them. Turned them over until she straddled his hips and rode his erection.

  She needed this. Craved this.

  Bracing her hands on his chest, she lifted then fell down again. The push against the tiny muscles inside her had her gasping. Her breath hitched and she fought to drag in enough air. She would have inhal
ed, but he pulled her head down and kissed her. Enveloped her in his heat.

  And then she heard it. His soft panting. Felt the tremble in his hands. He wasn’t immune to her and didn’t pretend to be. She loved that a man so hell-bent on control could let go in the bedroom. Give in to his needs and let the moment touch him. Not pretend otherwise.

  She wanted to vary the speed and torture them both. Make it last. She couldn’t.

  They fell into a steady rhythm that wound her up and tightened every muscle. Desire churned deep in her belly. She pressed her knees tighter against his sides and sank down harder and faster. Reveled in the feel of his hands massaging her breasts while his erection stretched and filled her.

  The orgasm slammed into her. Broke right over the dam and had her head falling back. She kept moving, kept milking that incredible sensation. Every nerve ending tingled and her heart hammered in her ears until she could barely hear.

  When the waves finally stopped pummeling her, she fell forward. Let her hair drape over her shoulders and brush his skin. Watched as his head pushed into the pillows and his hands clamped down on her hips. He came while her body still pulsed.

  He finally stopped and she let her body ease down to rest against him. For a few minutes the mix of their breathing echoed in the still room. A sheen of sweat covered both of their bodies and her muscles turned to liquid. She didn’t care about any of it. All that mattered was the frantic thump of his heart under her ear. The way he combed his fingers through her hair and smoothed the other hand up and down her back.

  She may not always understand him, but she understood this. Their needs matched. Their bodies fit.

  “I should kidnap you more often.” His deep voice was filled with amusement as he talked.

  If she could have moved her hand she would have pinched him. She settled for turning her head and giving a little nibble to his chest. “That is not the lesson you were supposed to learn.”

  “I will do pretty much whatever you want right now.”

  She peeked up at him. The uneven rise and fall of his chest. The closed eyes and satisfied expression. “A second round?”