His Private Fix

by Sofia Grey

  I used my free hand to stroke the sticky pearl that oozed from his slit. He made a choked noise, and when I lifted my fingers to my mouth, he groaned aloud. His breathing, already uneven, hitched even tighter. “Cass, I need to be inside you.”

  I needed that, too. I watched as he deftly fitted the condom. “I want to be on top.” Why did I say that? It came out of nowhere, but from the intense look on his face, he was happy with the idea. He shunted up the bed and leaned on the pillows, half-upright, one hand wrapped around his cock. Sprawled there, all rippling muscles and bronzed skin, he could have dropped out of a Playgirl centerfold. Jonah Marsh, Playmate of the month. And all mine for tonight.

  Licking my lips, I felt greedy at the sight of him. I straddled him with care and kneeled above his straining cock, brushing against the tip as I moved into position. He jerked, and I heard his breath catch. “Now,” he whispered. I may have been on top, but he was calling the shots, and I was fine with that. Mentally thanking my yoga instructor, I flexed my thighs and pushed down, taking him inside, one slow inch at a time. Jesus, he was big, and it had been a while. Take it slow, muttered my self-conscious. Jonah’s eyes were half-closed, his mouth slightly open, and I watched the growing smile that spread across his face. I guess it matched mine. He filled me completely and wasn’t all in yet. I sucked in a quick breath and forced my muscles to relax. Pleasure radiated out in pulses, each movement uncovering a new source of delight, a new excitement.

  I eased down farther, nearly there, and had to pause for another breath. “You okay, baby?” He lifted a hand and cupped my cheek, drawing me toward him for his lips to take possession again. Heat surged, and I pushed down onto the final inch, hissing as I did so. Jonah slid his hand to the back of my neck and slanted into the kiss, taking it slow. I couldn’t move just yet, and he seemed to recognize this. While I untangled my muscles and relaxed into him, he made sweet love to my mouth, sucking on my lips, a tiny nip here, a lick there. Seducing me with his tongue. A noise jarred in the background, and I listened for a second. Rain hammered the tin roof and beat against the windows. The energy of the storm outside was mirrored in my bed but leashed at the moment. I had no doubt that Jonah was every bit as powerful, and the idea made me squirm. So much to look forward to.

  It was time. I curled my hands over his shoulders and then slid upward, agonizingly slowly, and pushed back down. Again. Each slide gentle, finding my way, learning his body. All the while, he kissed me, touched me, set new fires burning with his clever fingers. His hands roamed across my skin, caressed my breasts, stroked my butt, and danced up and down my spine. He was everywhere.

  Our tempo increased. I set the pace, but Jonah began to take part now, his hips lifting each time we came together. The sounds of the rain were drowned out by flesh hitting flesh, the noises of our lovemaking. If I’d thought my earlier orgasm to be a defining moment, I knew that had just been the appetizer. Would I survive another? His thrusts were harder, plunging deeper, pushing me closer to another climax. Every part of my skin tingled as though it had shrunk in the rain. Everywhere he touched me felt electrified. I’d thought him to be summer in human form, but he was more a god of lightning.

  “Help me,” I whispered, and he dropped his hands to my butt. I nodded. Dragging in a fractured breath, I swept the fallen hair from my face and leaned into him, claiming his lips again. “I’m ready.” I was right; unleashed, Jonah came to life. Strong hands held me firm, lifting and dropping while he pumped a new rhythm, bumping my clit on every stroke. Every bump made me whimper, pleasure redefined. Sensations I couldn’t have imagined all burst to life, and Jonah was merciless. I writhed above him, chanting his name as he drove me to the edge, my climax a breath away. I panted, every muscle quivering, my pussy weeping and slick.

  Jonah was in control. He moved to span one hand across my belly, his fingers reaching down. He brushed my clit on a down stroke, and I cried out, my fingers digging into his shoulders. So close. “Come for me.” He rubbed again, and it was enough. The touch sent me spiraling into free fall, gasping and crying his name as the orgasm tore through me. “Christ,” he groaned, “so good.” One hard thrust from him, and then I felt him shudder, his cock jerking inside me, almost enough to set me off again.

  I sagged forward, my legs aching, and rested my forehead against his. I touched his chest again. Yep, our hearts raced together. Sex had a new name. Jonah.

  Chapter Eight - Watching

  Jonah eased away and then removed the condom, wrapping it in a tissue from my bedside before tossing it in the wastebasket. I stretched, languid as a cat lying in the sunshine, and listened to the storm raging outside. Rumbles of thunder competed with the noise from the rain, and I saw a reflected flash of lightning out of the corner of my eye. I toyed with the idea of heading to the kitchen to watch the lightning over the sea, but then Jonah rolled back to me, and everything else ceased to exist.

  I ran my hand through his hair, sliding it back from his forehead and then watching as it fell forward again. Soft, dark, and silky, it was completely different to mine and gave him an exotic look. My skin was pale in comparison, even with the hint of summer tan that I’d acquired over the last few weeks. I reached up to kiss him, luxuriating in the feel of his lips. Is this it? Does he get dressed and saunter off? He made no move to leave the bed, and I pressed against him, chest to chest, hip to hip.

  Jonah lifted his head and opened his mouth to speak. I braced myself for the thanks-and-good-bye spiel.

  “Can I hold you?” I blinked. Not what I expected.

  “I’d love you to.” Cuddles as well? Maybe this was all a sexy dream conjured up by my inner romance author? I rolled over, and he spooned around me as naturally as if we’d been doing this for years. One arm pillowed my head, the other lay around my waist with his hand cupping my breast. Soft kisses peppered the back of my neck, and a warm sigh tugged at my heart. Don’t even think of wanting more than this. He’ll be going home in a few days. Don’t spoil the moment.

  I relaxed into him, turning my head occasionally to kiss wherever I could reach. The rain renewed its frenzied dance on the roof, and I smiled at my earlier daydream. I’d wanted to snuggle up on the couch, but this was a million times better. I caught another glimpse of reflected lightning seconds before a crash of thunder that made me jump.

  “I love storms.” Jonah kissed my ear, his hot breath twisting me in knots.

  “Me, too. I like watching the lightning playing across the sea.”

  He moved back and sat up. “Let’s do that.” Mischief and something darker shone in his eyes, and his devilment caught me. I nodded and then watched, surprised, as he swept the light quilt from the bed and held it open to me like a giant cloak. “Shall we?” One eyebrow quirked, and I laughed, a child again.

  The deck made a perfect viewing platform for the sea, and covered by the overhang from the roof, the back half was perfectly sheltered from the rain. Jonah slipped his arm around my waist and then grabbed the quilt, and together, we made our way outside. The padded bench seat was just the right size for us to curl up on, and with Jonah at my back, and the quilt draped over our fronts, I was both cushioned and warm. Heat poured from his naked body, and I wanted to laugh in sheer delight at the audacity of what I was doing. If Colin could see me now, naked on the deck in the arms of my much younger lover—my toy boy—he would be appalled. I wouldn’t change this for the world.

  Brilliant lightning ripped the sky in two, illuminating the sea for a fraction of a second before pitch-darkness descended again. My eyes were still recovering from the blinding streak of electricity when the thunder crashed overhead. Jonah tightened his arms around me and nuzzled the crook of my neck. “Reminds me I’m alive,” he murmured. He was right. The raw power of the storm made everything feel more vibrant, more real. I’d never forget this wonderful, magical night, or the gorgeous man teasing my hair and kissing my neck.

  The storm must have been raging for an hour already, and as quickly as it had starte
d, it faded away. The lightning now flickered far in the distance, approaching the city, leaving the last rumbles of thunder to roll around. The rain had subsided, too; it was no more than a light shower, a soft, tinkling noise above us. Jonah’s hands began to move more urgently, brushing my nipples, sliding down my stomach, and cupping my butt, his kisses turning hot and sultry again. His hard-on pressed into me, and I leaned back into his embrace. There was still plenty of night left, and I didn’t want to waste a minute of it.

  I led him back to the bedroom, and we snuggled under the covers, face-to-face. I fingered the tiny piece of shell that he wore around his neck, intensely curious about every detail of his life. “This is paua shell? It’s very pretty. Where did you get it?”

  A shadow crossed his face. “Greg gave it to me.” I admired the fine leather cord that it hung from, and then examined his tattoo in more detail. A stave of musical notes tumbled across his shoulder and down his upper arm, and I traced them with my fingertips. I normally hated tattoos—I’d forbidden Dylan from getting one while he lived at home—but it suited Jonah.

  “I don’t read music. Is it a song or just random notes?”

  He smiled, looked at the ceiling and then back to me before he spoke. “It’s Pearl Jam. “Immortality.” One of my favorite bands.” Warmth filled my chest, but before I could say anything more, he cupped my face in his hands and stole a kiss. “I played this on the beach for you.” I was done with talking anyway.

  Desire flashed between us, every bit as potent as the lightning we’d been watching. While our earlier lovemaking had started out slow and gentle, this time we dove straight into hot and needy. I lay beneath him, mindless with lust and moaning his name, while Jonah hammered into me. He fisted one hand in my hair and tilted my head to claim my lips while braced on his other arm. I clung to his shoulders, my nails raking the skin, legs bent and hips bucking. I wanted him so deep inside me that I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. My orgasm was only moments away, a pounding spiral of sensation that clawed at my skin and twisted me inside. I could tell that Jonah was ready. His face screwed up and tension visible in every strained muscle, he kissed me with a hunger that bordered on desperation. I pulled him close and wailed as the climax tore through me, with Jonah not far behind. He shouted my name when he came, and then collapsed onto me, trembling and sweaty. I stroked his back and waited for him to catch his breath, and then to ease out of me and get rid of the condom.

  There were so many things I wanted to say. One night, Cass. Remember, one night is not a relationship. Sanity prevailed, and I held my tongue. He spooned against me, holding me warm and comfortable, and I felt him relaxing as he drifted asleep.

  Rain drummed on the tin roof, and I wondered if that sound would always remind me of this night, of this man wrapped around me, one hand curled over my breast. I’d lied to myself. I wasn’t cut out for one-night stands, or even a weeklong fling. I’d given my virginity to Scott, and he’d given me Dylan in return. A fair trade. I’d given my youth and loyalty to Colin, and he’d given me a new life in a new country. Checks and balances. Ever the hopeless romantic, I wasn’t hard enough to sleep with a man—any man—and walk away afterward as though it meant nothing.

  I had this beachside idyll for another six weeks, long enough, in theory, to complete the first draft of my thriller. That had been the plan when I booked it. If I worked flat out on my rapidly developing erotic novel first, I could still make good headway with my planned manuscript. Whichever I chose to work on, I would need the distraction to prevent me from obsessing about Jonah.

  He mumbled in his sleep, and I smiled, content to enjoy the moment. Morning would come too soon, along with the post-sex embarrassment, the awkward smiles, and the excuses to be gone.

  Chapter Nine - Wanting

  I awoke to a steady knocking sound. More rain? Seagulls dancing on the roof? Beside me, Jonah stirred. “The door.” He rasped the words, his voice thick with sleep. “Probably Greg.” With one final kiss to my bare shoulder, he slid out of the bed and reached for his shorts, abandoned on the floor, and then padded out of the bedroom. I heard him yawn. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face his friends yet, or his brother, but it had to be done. My bathrobe sat neatly folded on a wicker basket near the bed, and I took refuge in that, tugging the tie-belt tight. My thighs ached from the workout the night before, and I couldn’t help smiling. I should hire Jonah as a very personal trainer. I’d never need to go to the gym again.

  I heard voices from the kitchen and braced myself for the first awkward conversation of the day. It would be hard to look dignified when I was only clad in a much-faded bathrobe. If Greg had any doubt about what we’d been doing, my kiss-swollen lips would give it away, along with my disheveled hair and whisker rash from Jonah’s stubble.

  To my surprise, the visitor was my landlord, Sam. He looked as scruffy as he did at our previous meetings, sporting an untidy beard and his shoulder-length hair hanging lank. Even more surprising was the smile on his face. When I stepped into the kitchen, it was to see him clasping Jonah’s hand.

  “I didn’t know you were back.” Sam sounded delighted. “You’re looking good. How long has it been now?”

  I couldn’t see Jonah’s face. I had no clue if he was pleased or irritated. I cleared my throat to announce my presence, and he glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact. His face was shuttered. Yep, awkward was about right. I had no idea how to behave. What the hell are the protocols for the morning after a one-night stand? Do I shake his hand and tell him it was fun? Offer to make him some breakfast? And now my landlord would think I was a cougar, or worse, a slut.

  With my stomach tying itself in knots, I joined them. “Hi, Sam. Is there a problem?” I shoved both hands in my pockets and forced a polite smile.

  “Ah, just making sure the roof hasn’t leaked after the storm last night.” His dark gray eyes darted between Jonah and me. “I was surprised to see Jonah. I didn’t know you knew each other.” My cheeks heated at his question, but I kept the smile in place. My mind careered from one reply to another, but as I struggled to find something to say, Jonah spoke.

  “I’m next door with Greg. I, uh...” He ground to a halt and stared at me, an angry expression in his eyes. I felt a twinge of anxiety. “I came to see if Cass was okay.” He spoke slowly, careful with each word, and again I puzzled over his speech. He appeared to have a Kiwi accent, but that just meant he’d learned English from a Kiwi. His words sank in. He’d all but told Sam that we hadn’t slept together. Was that to spare my blushes? Or because shagging the woman next door had been a gross mistake?

  Sam’s eyes narrowed, but bless him, he didn’t challenge Jonah. My fake smile was starting to make my cheeks ache. Please leave, Sam. I can’t handle an audience for the humiliation that’s about to come tumbling my way.

  Jonah pulled a phone from his pocket and began sending a text message. Was that his way of saying the conversation was over? I took a quick breath and walked toward the coffeepot. “Would anyone like some coffee? Sam? Jonah?” With my back to them both, I managed to speak more normally. “I haven’t seen any water leaking in, but I’ll have a look around and let you know.” In the midst of my chatter, something beeped, and I turned to see Sam looking at his own phone. He read a message, stared at Jonah for a long moment, and then pursed his lips and glanced at me.

  “I’ll pass on the coffee, but thanks anyway. Let me know if you have any problems.” His smile oozed sympathy. “Any problems at all.” He made a rapid exit, and I saw him striding across the sand toward the next cottage.

  A thought sideswiped me. “Did you just text him? Sam?” Jonah’s cheeks colored, and I knew the answer. Hurt shoved humiliation aside, and I leaned forward and snatched the phone from his hand.

  “Hey!” I ignored him, intent on finding the message he’d just sent. Dylan had the same phone. It took no time at all. The message was addressed to Sam G.

  Pls don’t say anything

  “Give.”
Jonah held out the flat of his hand, and I slapped the phone onto his palm, so hard it had to sting. Week, feeble tears pressed at the back of my eyes, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how he’d upset me. My jaw was clenched tight, and I tried desperately to hold everything in. Inside, I shook, but my outer shell remained intact, at least for the moment. “You don’t understand,” he began, but I shook my head.

  “I understand perfectly. I know how these things work, Jonah. Did you really think I’d go crying to your brother? What do you take me for?” He opened his mouth, but I spoke over him, loud and angry. “I guess you already have a girlfriend—or a wife—and I don’t want to know the details. We had fun last night, but that’s all it was.” My hands were shaking, my emotions melting down. I turned around, so as not to have to look at him. “Take your stuff, and go, please. I’ve got things to do today.”

  My lungs ached with the effort of breathing. How stupid am I? I knew I couldn’t just sleep with him and then watch him walk away. I’m not cut out for flings. There was only deafening silence behind me, and I realized he hadn’t moved. I gripped the edge of the counter as though it would save me from drowning.

  “Cass, you don’t understand.” He took a step toward me and wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face into my hair. My treacherous, deluded body reacted instantly, nipples firming and heart racing. I still wanted him.

  “So tell me.” I made my voice as hard as I could. “What do you mean?”

  He sighed. I felt hot breath on the back of my neck, and I steeled my knees not to tremble. “I asked Sam not to say anything to you. Not Greg.”

  “Anything like what?”

  “Like anything. He’s an old friend. He might try to tease you.”

  I considered this. Rejected it. “I have a teenage son. Teasing is everyday fare.” Even though I longed to lean back into Jonah’s embrace, to melt into his arms, I stood frozen. I wanted better than that. Hell, after everything we’d done the night before, I deserved better than that.