Page 68 of The Fixer

I slid my hands down her body, cupping her breasts as my tongue wrestled with hers. I grasped at her waist. Pulled at her legs. Lifted her hips as I lined myself up. And I fucking groaned as she whimpered, as my cock sank into the deep well of her, as she coated me with the sweet honey that dripped from between her legs.

“Jet,” she gasped, head thrown back. My mouth descended to her delicate throat.

There was my sweetness, the girl a decadent dream. I would die if I never tasted her again.

“Please,” she whimpered, “don’t let me go.”

I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

Eliza was mine.

“Never,” I told her as I pressed into her pussy so slow I wanted to weep. She was my home, the only place I ever wanted to be.

* * *

Eliza laid behind me, head against my shoulder, hand fisted at my waist. I was warm here, with her in my bed. Sated, my body spent. I’d never felt this kind of contentment in my life. But at the same time, every shift of her body had my muscles tensing up. Every brush of her hand had me ready to run.

She knew enough about me, had gathered it in the weeks since we met. That fisted hand on my waist was born of experience, and I hated it. Hated that my mind kept blocking her out, when my heart was desperate to let her in.

Come on in, big guy. Come a little bit closer.

Eliza’s hand opened, fingers landing softly against my flesh. I winced. Turned my face into my pillow as the girl shifted, pressing a kiss to my back. Then her hand was there, sliding over my shoulder, skin touching skin as she climbed a little closer.

Bare breasts pressed against me. Hands touching me, touching me in ways I didn’t want.

“Who hurt you?” the girl whispered at my ear. She slid her hand along my arm, making the hairs rise on the back of my neck until her fingers tangled with my own.

“Bo.” It was a name I hadn’t uttered in ten years. A name I tried to force from my mind, but still haunted me in my dreams.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

Talk to me, Jet. Holding it in will only make it worse.

Shaking my head, I pressed my face harder into my pillow.

It’d taken Kosta years and far too much patience to get me to say one word about my past. Though I wasn’t sure if he’d worn me down or if I was desperate to finally tell someone. When the day came where I was ready to spill the truth, I’d taken him to the middle of nowhere and made him take a walk. He’d raised a brow but said nothing when I told him to leave all electronics in the car. He may have thought it overkill, but when you were friends with Mateo Medina, you learned quickly you could never be too safe.

I’d told Kosta the thing I’d never told anyone else, though there were others who knew pieces of the truth. Others who knew, but could never understand. I hated the way they looked at me. The way their eyes filled with judgment whenever I stepped into the room.

Kosta was gone now, my one and only confidant taken from this world. That desperation I felt back then was swirling, a riptide ready to take me under.

“I was twelve,” I told her, and my chest felt like it’d been ripped in two. I gasped, sucking in air. Eliza tightened her hold on my hand. “My father had refused to let me go to Paulo’s until I finished my chores at the funeral home. I didn’t want to do them, so I was trying to hide. And I walked in on her.”

I’d seen women in skimpy bikinis and underwear ads before, but I’d never once seen one naked in the flesh. And Bo, she was a beautiful woman. Breasts full, hips wide, unapologetic for all her curves. I crept into the back room of the funeral home, to the dressing room she used before and after she did her work. She stood naked before her make-up kit, brush in hand as she drew on bright red lips.

The kind never found on the corpses she dressed.

She didn’t turn when I entered, and I thought maybe, just maybe, she didn’t hear me come in. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. The way her body moved, the way her breasts swayed. My own body reacted, and I gripped myself.

That movement drew her attention to me, though from the smile on her face, I could tell she knew I was there. She turned around, giving me a view of her entire naked form. Every curve, every swell, the patch of dark hair between her legs.

“Don’t just stand there staring, big guy. Come on over. I won’t bite.”

“She touched me.” It came out a whisper, but I knew Eliza heard. Her hand squeezed tighter, her arm drawing my back closer to her chest. “I didn’t know what to do. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t know how to stop. And when it was over, she told me…”

I closed my eyes, my brow bunching up. Swallowed hard at the dryness in my throat.

“She told me if I said anything, she’d ruin my family. Tell the world horrible lies about what went on at the home. And I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t let her hurt the people I loved. So, I let her hurt me instead.”