The Fixed Trilogy: Fixed on You, Found in You, Forever With You

by Laurelin Paige

  God, oh, god, there weren’t words—the ecstasy, the intensity, the absolute feeling of wholeness, of completion—it was perfectly indescribable. Perfectly perfect.

  He bucked into me, and I threw my head back with a gasp.

  “Watch, Alayna.”

  His command drew my focus back to him. I followed his gaze down to the place where we were joined. He pulled out of me to his crown, his cock covered in my juices, then pushed back in, his rhythm steady and mesmerizing.

  “Watch my cock pushing in and out of you.”

  “It’s so hot.” Unbelievably hot.

  He sped up and the sound of our slapping thighs increased the level of eroticism by ten. Already I was tightening again, nearing the edge.

  “Alayna, are you with me?”

  His question called my attention back to his face. His expression, still lusty and primal, was now highlighted with affection.

  “Always,” I said. “I’m always with you.”

  He reclaimed my mouth, plunging his tongue with a ferocity that echoed his movements below. I was breathless and panting when he released me.

  “Our pasts will always threaten to come between us. But nothing can come between us unless we let it. Feel this?” He drove his cock deeper into me. “Feel me inside you?”

  “It’s so good, Hudson. You make me feel so good.”

  “I know, precious, I know.” He tightened his grip, pulling me closer to him so that his breath tickled my ear as he spoke to me.

  My vision glazed, I was close.

  “Look at me.” Again, his command pulled my eyes to him. “This is how connected we are, Alayna. Even when I’m not inside you, we are always this connected.”

  His stark declaration was the final straw. “Fuck, Hudson, I’m going to come.” My legs were quivering from the effort of supporting myself on top of him. Now they tightened with my oncoming orgasm.

  “Yes, let go,” Hudson coaxed. “I want to watch you give it all to me.”

  I did let go, squeezing him with my cunt as my orgasm ripped through me with seismic force. My body jelly, Hudson eased us to the floor then pounded to his finish, burying himself to his balls while his climax erupted hot and long.

  When he collapsed, he stayed inside me, stroking my hair and whispering. “You’re so beautiful, Alayna. Absolutely beautiful. I missed you. So much.”

  I brushed my fingers along his cheek, scruffy with a five o’clock shadow. “Did you really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “I missed you too. So much.” I kissed along his throat before sucking lightly on his Adam’s apple. Still in a euphoric, post-orgasmic stage, it was surprising that I suddenly remembered where I was supposed to be. “Shit! I need to call Mira and tell her to cancel my trip.”

  Hudson smiled. “Already taken care of.”

  “She told you? It was supposed to be a surprise!”

  “Mirabelle didn’t tell me. Jordan. All he said was that he’d rearrange your evening plans. It would have been a surprise.” He circled my nose with his. “If I hadn’t surprised you first.”

  “And what a happy surprise it was.”

  “I’m lucky you didn’t kick me to the curb. You know, I’ve fantasized about taking you in this club since the first time I saw you here.”

  For whatever reason, this made me blush. “I can’t say I haven’t had the same fantasy.”

  He grinned and kissed me chastely, probably knowing as well as I did that anything deeper would likely lead to another round of sex. This suspicion was confirmed with his next words. “As nice as it is having the fantasy fulfilled, I’d much rather take you back to The Bowery and have you in our bed.”

  “That sounds awesome. Because as beautiful as this all is, I’m sticky and I have rose petals stuck to my ass and thighs.”

  Hudson laughed, his dick twitching inside me with the motion. “The side effects of romantic gestures.”

  “You better get out before you get hard again.”

  “Already halfway there.” He pulled out of me, and, sure enough, he was already sporting another semi.

  He stood then helped me up after him, brushing petals off my backside. After we’d finished dressing, Hudson turned on the club lights so I could blow out the candles.

  “Ready to go home?”

  I shivered at the sweet sound of the word home. Our home. It had become such a lonesome cave in the days he’d been gone. Now it could be restored to its former glory. “As long as you’re there, then there’s no place else I’d rather be.”

  Brushing a lingering rose petal from my arm, I looked around the room. “What about the mess?” Then before he answered, I said, “Let me guess—you have people.”

  He shrugged. “We have people.”

  I actually didn’t freak about his overt suggestion that we were tied even more deeply than we were. I’d told the truth to Mira when I said I couldn’t think about those things, but maybe I could be okay when other people thought about it.

  Hudson retrieved his jacket from the dance floor railing. He pulled out his phone from one of the pockets and typed something in—a text for our ride, I guessed.

  “Oh,” he said, digging in another of his jacket pockets. “I almost forgot. This is for you.” He handed me a phone, nearly identical to the one I’d broken.

  “So sure I haven’t already replaced it, are you?” I asked with a laugh.

  He winked. “You weren’t answering any of my calls or texts. I’d hoped it was because you were still phoneless.”

  “I was phoneless so that I wouldn’t break down and call you.”

  “Should I ask for an explanation?”

  “No. It’s just me. Thank you for the phone. It was very thoughtful.” I wrapped my arm around his and together we walked toward the club entrance. “Hey, did you get Plexis back?”

  “I did. But it wouldn’t have mattered if I hadn’t gotten you back.”

  Damn, the stuff he said was sweet. Only two weeks before, he’d been completely cut off from me, sharing very few of his true feelings. To think I could have missed out on all the beauty he had to offer if I’d let him slip away. Thank god, I’d stuck around for the good stuff.

  I gazed up at his profile. “You never lost me, remember?”

  “That’s right. I didn’t.” We’d reached the door and he turned to look at me. Those startling grey eyes—I could stay in them forever. Not lost, exactly, but more like found.

  “I love you, Hudson Pierce.”

  He breathed it in, physically breathed in my words—I could see exactly how they affected him. He needed them like I needed his touch. They changed him in some way that wasn’t quite tangible but real all the same. It made up for the fact that he still hadn’t been able to return the declaration.

  He shook himself. “Go on out. Jordan should be waiting. I’ll set the alarm and lock up.”

  He needed a minute to himself. I got that. He had the same effect on me.

  I walked out, finding Jordan waiting with the Maybach.

  “Good evening, Ms. Withers. I’m sorry to say that you missed your flight.”

  I winked. “Another time, I suppose.”

  I slid in the car, crossing to the opposite window to leave space for Hudson. While I waited, I turned on the new phone Hudson had given me. I smiled at the front screen wallpaper—it was a publicity picture of us kissing from the fashion show I’d attended with him. Scrolling through my contacts, I could tell that he’d managed to transfer my number and all my personal data to the new phone.

  After a minute, the phone buzzed to notify me of incoming texts. I had seventeen in all. I scrolled through them, finding most were from Hudson, one from Brian—probably from before he’d found out my phone had broken.

  My brow furrowed as I saw two texts from an unknown number. I opened the first one. “The video file is too big for text. Text me if you want to see it in person.”

  Confused, I scrolled to the next text from that number. “Btw, this is Stacy from
Mirabelle’s.”

  Ah, Stacy. She’d told me she had some proof about Hudson and Celia. Some reason not to trust her.

  I laughed to myself. Too little, too late. Whatever proof Stacy had that Celia was a bitch was completely unnecessary. I’d learned the hard way.

  Though it did pique my curiosity.

  “Everything okay?” Hudson asked as he slipped in the backseat next to me.

  “Everything’s perfect.” I dimmed my phone and stuck it in my bra. The outside world didn’t hold a spark of interest to me when I had Hudson beside me. I was beginning to see that he might be there for a long time. He was right—we were connected. Nothing could break us apart. I was convinced of that now.

  I buckled my seatbelt then settled into the crook of his arm thinking perfect was something I could get used to.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This is always the hardest part of writing the book and I dread it and put it off as long as possible because I’m afraid I’ll forget someone or start crying as I list all the wonderful people who have made an impact in the life of my book.

  Thankfully the digital page doesn’t show tear marks, so here we go:

  First, to Tom, always first to Tom—my husband, my love, the sole reason I am able to spend hours reading and writing without my life falling apart around me. I love you, always.

  To my children who don’t understand why Mom’s books are hush-hush at church, but are doing a good job of keeping things quiet—you are the reasons I write, girls, because you are the reasons I live.

  To my Mom who supports me fully and still doesn’t think it’s enough—don’t worry, Mom. I have enough readers. You can just be my cheerleader.

  To Sophia for the cover design and for always pushing me to go the distance.

  To Bethany for editing and book-fairying and for always being there to pull me off the ledge and tell me I’m a good person when I feel quite the opposite.

  To my earliest readers and critique partners—Lisa, I hope to one day have as much talent as you have in your little finger. Jackie, your commas make me a better writer. Tristina, your suggestions are always the ones I need to hear. Tamara, when you think I’m hot, I feel hot, because YOU, lady are HAWT.

  To my agent, Bob DiForio, who worked through all the icky publishing crap so that I didn’t have to—man, what a ride, huh?

  To Stephen DiForio and Caitlin Greer for formatting, and Julie at AToMR Book Blog Tours, who gets my books exposure all over the ‘net.

  To my best friends eveh, The NAturals—Sierra, Sophia, Melanie, Lucy, and Tamara, sometimes you’re the only reason I wake up in the morning and you’re often the reason I stay up too late. Sometimes brow-porn is the only thing you need.

  To Joe, who lovingly calls this the “F” you series—this was our year! But just wait and see what next year brings.

  To Kristen Proby for your beautiful love of this series and the advice, support and inspiration you’ve given a budding author.

  To the WrAHMs and the Babes of the Scribes—you’re all such beautiful women. I’m so lucky to know you.

  To the authors I’ve friended in this wonderful writing community—you never fail to inspire me and push me to further heights both personally and in my stories. What an amazing passion we share. Thank you for all you’ve taught me and for letting me read your amazing, beautiful words.

  To the Book Bloggers and reviewers who helped spread Fixed on You to others. There are so many, I could never even hope to mention you all, but I especially need to acknowledge Aestas, Schmexy Girls, The Rock Stars of Romance, Angie’s Dreamy Reads, and “That’s All” Ash—I am eternally thankful for your love and support. There are not enough ways to express my appreciation. I LOVE YOU!

  To the Fans who loved and pimped Fixed on You like it was their own, especially Jenna Tyler and Angela McLain—thank you, ladies, for all you do. I’m honored to know you.

  To the Readers, every time—you are the only reason I get to do this for a living. I will never forget that, and I’m SO, SO grateful.

  To my Creator who has blessed my life so richly—may I remember to always fix my eyes on you.

  Did you know leaving a review helps authors get seen more on sites like Amazon?

  If you liked Found in You, please consider leaving a review.

  You can sign up for my email newsletter to receive new book release info at www.laurelinpaige.com. You can also connect with me on Twitter @laurelinpaige and on Facebook at www.facebook.com/laurelinpaige.

  FOREVER WITH YOU

  Book 3 in the Fixed Trilogy

  by Laurelin Paige

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  © 2014 by Laurelin Paige

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  First edition January, 2014.

  The following story contains mature themes, strong language, and sexual situations. It is intended for adult readers.

  Chapter One

  I took a deep breath and stared at the door of apartment three-twelve. Whether or not I wanted to go any further, I hadn’t decided. Actually, I couldn’t remember deciding to come this far. But here I was—my heart pounding and hands sweating, debating the pros and cons of raising my fist to the wood and knocking.

  God, why was I so nervous?

  Maybe more deep breaths were in order. I took several—in, out, in, out—and examined my surroundings. The hall was long and empty. Gold-framed abstract art lined the walls. Though the building was nice and in a good part of town, the carpet was old and threadbare. Rose petals were strewn across the floor in front of the threshold a few doors down. Must have been left over from someone’s romantic gesture. Sweet.

  To the other side of me, the elevator opened. I looked over and saw a couple walking in the opposite direction. The man, dressed in a nice suit, held his hand to the small of the woman’s back. Her blonde hair was tied up in a perfect bun. Even from behind, they were beautiful to look at. It was obvious they were in love.

  Funny how I was seeing romance everywhere. Perhaps it was my state of mind.

  I turned back to the door in front of me. It was plain and ordinary, but something about it felt ominous.

  Well, might as well get this over with.

  I pulled my bag higher on my shoulder and knocked.

  Nearly a minute went by and no one answered. I leaned my ear against the door and listened. It was quiet. Maybe I had the wrong unit. I checked my hand where I’d scribbled the address in red pen, but it had rubbed off from my sweat.

  It didn’t matter. I knew I was in the right place.

  “Try the buzzer,” a man said from down the hall.

  “The buzzer?” I asked, but he had already gone into his own apartment.

  I hadn’t noticed a buzzer, but I searched the wall by the doorframe anyway. There I found a small circular button. Strange I hadn’t seen it before. I brought a trembling finger up and pushed.

  A loud bark ripped through the air, and I nearly jumped out of my shoes, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn’t usually afraid of dogs, but I was already so anxious that it took very little to set me off. Movement sounded from inside and a voice talking sternly to the animal. Seconds later, the door opened.

  Stacy stood in the entryway, her face more welcoming than she normally was with me. Her overly bright smile sent a chill down my spine. She was dressed casually in a faded t-shirt and jeans—not at all the attire I was used to seeing her in when she worked at Mirabelle’s boutique. She was barefoot and her toes were painted with a pale pink polish. She looked relaxed. Comfortable.

  I felt just the opposite.

  Her grin widened. “You came.”

  “I guess I did.”

  She didn’t move to let me in, so I stood wher
e I was, awkwardly shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Did she hear my knees knocking? I was sure she must.

  “Oh, sorry! Come on in.” She stepped aside and let me move past her.

  I took a tentative step inside, scanning her apartment. It was nice. Not nice like Hudson’s apartment—Hudson’s and my apartment, rather—but nicer than the studio that I used to reside in on Lexington Avenue. The space was sterile and cold, though completely immaculate except for the kitchen table to my left. It was covered with stacks and stacks of papers, reminding me of the top of the file cabinets in David’s office back at The Sky Launch.

  “This way.” Stacy gestured to a couch in her living room. It was a twin to the sofa in Hudson’s office—brown leather with oversized arms. I’d admired the design so much that I’d ordered a similar, less expensive one for the office at the club. Hudson and I had christened that couch, actually, with a round of heated sex. Stacy’s version was not the cheaper variety, and with as prudish as the woman seemed, I doubted that she’d christened it with anyone.

  Weird, though, that we all had similar taste.

  Actually, what was weird was that I was there finding out Stacy’s taste at all. Why was I there? The tight knot in my gut said this was the wrong decision. I should leave.

  Except, I couldn’t. Something kept me there with an intense force. Like my shoes were metal and the floor a super magnet. I knew it was all in my head—that I could physically walk out the door anytime I wanted. Yet there I stayed, compelled against my better judgment.

  I threw my shoulders back, hoping it would make me feel more confident, and took a seat. I sunk lower than I’d expected, my knees sticking up higher than my thighs. I looked and felt ridiculous. So much for being self-assured.