Fixing You: A steamy summer romance. (You Collection Book 3)

by Roya Carmen

  The feel of Ethan's hot mouth on her thigh was almost more than she could bear. Warmth oozed through her. There was nothing more amazing than this, being with Ethan. She knew she couldn't live without it, and it scared her. She closed her eyes and willed her thoughts away. She would just enjoy him for tonight, and worry about the consequences later. She needed to get her fix. She pulled him up to her, desperately wanting to kiss him. She reached the heavens when his hot mouth pressed against hers. His kiss was hungry. She sucked his bottom lip, wanting to taste him deeper. He buried his hands in the tangles of her hair, his fingers getting caught and pulling at her locks. She inhaled the clean aftershave he wore, wondering for a second if he had put it on for Natasha. It didn't matter. She didn't matter anymore. Because tonight, he was all hers.

  "This is all I've been thinking about," he muttered, his hot mouth pressed against the shell of her ear, his hand caught up in the lacy band of her panties.

  "Take them off," she pleaded. "I want you."

  He pulled his mouth from her and trailed his tongue sensually down the length of her body, sending tingles through her. He was such an amazing lover. She was sure that was the reason she couldn't shake him. "My pleasure."

  He peeled the bottoms over her knees and softly down her legs and finally over her bare feet. And he lingered, his mouth dropping feather-light kisses along her thighs. He stroked her softly, the tender touch of his finger sliding along the underside of her knee. He guided her leg over his shoulder and she threw her head as she swelled up for him. She knew what he was planning to do to her, and she had never wanted anything more.

  He pressed a finger gently along her soft curls and parted her lips. His hot breath on her pussy sent her to another dimension. There was only him...and her, in this little world of theirs. He licked her softly, and she moaned as he led her closer with every stroke of his tongue. His fingers dug hard into the flesh of her rear as he became more aggressive, responding to her body perfectly. Her climax came in waves of heat, a tingle traveling leisurely up her spine, warming her body along the way.

  Her body felt heavy as she leaned against the wall. Ethan was still kneeling at her feet, wearing a wicked smile, and way too much clothing. She felt ill-at-ease, being practically naked, having been pleasured so deliciously. She pulled him up to her. "That was amazing."

  He smiled a sweet grin.

  She trailed a finger along the soft grey cashmere of his shirt and shot him a sly smile. "As much as I like what you're wearing," she told him. "I'd much rather have you naked in my bed."

  A huge grin practically split his face in two as he grabbed her by the rear and hoisted her up on his hips, so easily. "I like that idea." He headed toward the rooms at the back of the loft.

  "Last room on the left," she told him. "The door with the flowers."

  When they crossed the threshold of her room, if was as if they had entered a fairy tale. Pristine crisp white curtains, an antique gold and white wrought-iron bed dressed in the fluffiest, prettiest comforter known to bedrooms, a myriad of pillows scattered across its top, and Jessie, her cherished teddy bear. It suddenly occurred to her that her room was quite juvenile.

  Ethan laughed, a soft chuckle. “Wow," he quipped. "I think I've lost my erection."

  She smiled and punched him on the shoulder as he threw her on the bed, the vintage bed sliding across the hard wood floors and clanking against the wall. "You're going to wake up the neighbor," she joked.

  "It's cool. He's not there. He's busy having the most amazing sex of his life."

  She smiled. She liked the idea of being 'the most amazing sex of his life'. “So…” she purred. "Let's see about that erection," she said as she pulled him to her, swiftly undoing his belt and fly.

  He groaned and bit his lip as she held him and stroked him. "Yep... I don't think the room will be a problem," she teased.

  "You are a bad girl."

  She made her way down the bottom of his legs and peeled his jeans off. "Yes... there seems to be a misconception about me," she started as she practically ripped his boxers off, "that I'm a good girl."

  He laughed. "So obviously not true," he pointed out with a playful smile and leaned down to kiss her. The weight of his body pressed her deep into her cloud of a bed. Her hands busied themselves peeling off his shirt. She wanted the heat of his skin against hers. His mouth trailed along her jawline, biting softly as his fingers struggled under her back to free her from her bra. She reached and helped him.

  When her breasts were gently released, he took one in his mouth, twirling his tongue gently. He didn't bite or suck too hard, almost as if he knew she preferred the soft touch. She studied him as his mouth traveled from one breast to the other. Her nipples were red and erect, a reflection of the intense arousal she felt. And even though he had just given her the most amazing orgasm of her life, she craved another one. She yearned for the kind of sex they had had their first time together, fast, hard and furious. She wanted to be pounded nice and good.

  She pulled his mouth to hers, wanting to taste it one last time before turning away from him. When she pulled away, she did so reluctantly and turned to her stomach.

  "Hey, what's wrong, baby?" he whispered as he sprinkled the length of her spine with soft kisses.

  She stretched up, like a Siamese cat, pulling her rear to the ceiling, stretching on all fours, offering all of herself.

  "You drive me crazy, dragonfly."

  She moaned into the soft cotton of her comforter. He hadn't even entered her yet, but she could almost feel him already. The memory of him combined with the anticipation of what was to come was almost too much to bear. "I want you like this."

  He grabbed her hair and pulled it from her nape and licked her one last time before his hands traveled to her rear and grabbed her hard. She guided him as he sank into her. He groaned loudly when his hip bones pressed hard against the soft flesh of her ass.

  "Baby..." she breathed. He felt so amazing. There were no words. "Harder, baby."

  Which each thrust, he stroked her sweet spot and the old wrought-iron bed clanked against the wall repeatedly, making the lamp on the night table shake, and the framed art on the wall rattle. Her lovely little room seemed like it was about to fall apart any second, but she couldn't have cared less. The dichotomy of the innocence of the room and the raw, uninhibited sex only aroused her.

  She shut her eyes. And as the pressure built inside her, she took in every second of the amazing sensations he was giving her as she reached yet another climax. She felt him press into her even deeper, and still as he reached his own, the sound of his pleasure echoing off the walls. Hers had been quiet and soft. She sank deeper into the bed as she recovered. He gently pulled away from her, pressing his mouth against her ear. "Did you... again?"

  She nodded, wearing only a tight-lipped smile. "I'm making up for lost time."

  He laughed as he lay next to her. "You definitely are. That was amazing."

  With her thoughts suddenly clearer, she studied him as he lay next to her, the beautiful angles of his chiseled features, his full sensual lips and the contrasting speckles of dark and light hair spattered along his jawline. He was a work of art. He was the man of her fantasies, but unfortunately, he was also everyone else's. "What happened to your lady friend?" she asked, fueled by feelings of jealousy which refused to escape her.

  "She left shortly after your little show," he teased. And Kirsten was glad to see he didn't seem to care. "She called you a little tattooed whore."

  Kirsten's mouth hung open. She wasn't sure if she was vexed or flattered. She smiled at the thought. She had certainly never seen herself as a 'little tattooed whore'.

  "She didn't mean anything, you know," he told her. "I thought she could help me get over you, that she might make a good girlfriend."

  "She was pretty," Kirsten said, pointing out the obvious. "It didn't take you too long to find yourself someone."

  His grin was playful when he said, "It's not a big deal... going t
o a club, buying a girl a drink.”

  It was so easy for him. It would always be. He was a born charmer. And just the thought of him with other women drove her crazy, made her sick to her stomach. She needed to stop this, whatever this was. She needed to find herself a nice decent man who would not make her feel so irrational. She needed to remind herself that Ethan was not the type of guy who settled down. He would never be. And she still wanted the whole dream; marriage, a home and children. And amazing sex too. That was a given.

  Right now, all she had with Ethan was the amazing sex, and it wasn't enough. Her twenty-six birthday was coming up soon and what would she do? Spend the next few years in this limbo, having casual (albeit mind-blowing) sex with Ethan, all the while trying to find someone else and not being able to love anyone because she's too caught up in Ethan? And not to mention, being constantly tortured by feelings of jealousy and anger every time she'd wonder where he was and who he was with. She couldn't live that way.

  He was quiet too and she wondered what he was thinking about. He turned to face her and caught her staring at him. There was a hint of tension in his expression. She wondered if she should ask him to leave. She didn't want to get in deeper. "Uh... I was thinking that perhaps... you should go."

  The disappointment he felt at her words was unmistakable, and part of her was glad he did feel something, that she hadn't just been another one of his lays. He did seem to really care about her. But was he just playing her?

  "Sure..." he said, turning away from her. "If that's what you want."

  "You know, Ethan," she started. "It's just for fun between us." She really wanted to believe her own words but even as she uttered them, she knew they sounded false.

  He slipped on his boxers and jeans. He searched for his shirt which she found crumpled up in a ball on the bed. She threw it at him. "Isn't this what you like? What you want?" She wanted him to tell her it wasn't. But he didn't say a word. He just fixed her with an angry expression, and left.

  She hopped out of her bed, her arms wrapped around her breasts. She ran after him. "I'm sorry," she called out but he was already gone.

  Ethan fumed as he paced back and forth across his apartment. He desperately wanted to go back there and tell her off, tell her she couldn't treat him that way, like a piece of meat. She had clearly used him for her own pleasure. She had not only come once, but twice. He’d certainly given her money's worth. And then she had dismissed him so easily. 'Get the fuck out,' she had practically told him. And all she had to do to seduce him was pop by his apartment, wearing nothing but laced undies and a jacket. It had been that easy. He was acting like a cheap whore, and she was treating him like a cheap whore. He had played that role often with other women, but for some reason, it bothered him now. He wanted to be more to her. Maybe she wasn't the girl he thought she was. What had he turned her into? Was she just like everyone else now? Just out for a good time?

  He refused to believe that. She was way too sweet, the way she smiled at him, the tenderness of her kisses and her touch. He knew he meant something to her. Then why was she acting like such a bitch?

  He couldn't let her treat him this way. And he could clearly not stay away from her. He knew it would happen again. All she had to do was show up at his door and flash him her sweet smile, and he'd be done for. He knew it as surely as he knew the sky was blue, or rather grey, on most days in Seattle. He would have to get away from her.

  He needed to make a change.

  Kirsten was extremely busy at work going over the details for the library fundraiser. She was thankful for the distraction. There were so many details to be taken care of; the menu, the seating, the silent auction, the entertainment. The venue had been selected a long time ago, a large open room at the top of one of the many business buildings in the city cluster. It offered amazing panaromic views of the Seattle skyline, complete with a large deck area to further appreciate the tapestry of colorful lights. The fundraiser had been a grand affair, and every year she looked forward to going. Of course, for the past five years, she had been accompanied by the very charming and successful Logan Smith. His firm was a big supporter.

  She dropped by the market after work, as she usually did, to pick up a few staples for dinner. She ran into her mother as she made her way back home. Lorraine was in usual top form, yoga pants (although she had never done yoga in her life), a colorful eccentric top, and a silk lime scarf wrapped around her neck. She took one of the bags from Kirsten. "Here, let me help you."

  "Thanks, Mom."

  "So what's for dinner?" Lorraine asked as they made their way into the loft building.

  "Fish tacos," Kirsten told her. "I just bought some nice mahi-mahi."

  A wide smile stretched across Lorraine's face. "You are amazing."

  Kirsten was happy she could bring her mother pleasure so easily. It was nice to be appreciated. "Maybe you can help me make a salad,” she suggested as she pressed the button to call the elevator. Every time she'd do so, part of her always hoped to see Ethan walk out. And there was always a tinge of disappointment when he didn't, even though she knew the odds were against her. Again, as the doors opened and an older gentleman stepped out, she felt the tinge. How silly, she thought.

  Lorraine settled herself in the corner, still clutching the recyclable bag full of goodies. "So I was just having coffee with Deanna Bowen," Lorraine started. "She's a real estate agent, as you know," she went on as they stepped off the elevator. "She had some interesting gossip."

  "Oh yeah, what?" Kirsten asked absent-mindedly, turning her key into the door handle.

  Lorraine's face lit up when she said, "Guess who's moving out of the building?"

  Kirsten jerked her head to face her mother. She knew it was Ethan. She just knew it. "Who?"

  "Our handsome neighbor," she whispered, "the ineffable Mr. Fox."

  Kirsten's heart sank. She could barely hold on to her bag of staples. She sprinted to the kitchen, her eyes welling up. She didn't want her mother to see her expression. Lorraine had no clue what was going on between her and Ethan. As far as her mother was concerned, Kirsten and Ethan had only shared one or two ill-advised nights, followed by some major drama.

  Kirsten busied herself stashing away the staples, and to her dismay, Lorraine insisted on assisting her. "Yep, he just put his loft on the market yesterday. They've already gotten offers but apparently he's asking for a lot. Too much, Deanna says."

  Kirsten buried her face in the refrigerator and sucked in a breath of cool air, trying to keep her thoughts at bay, and put up with her mother's banter, despite feeling torn apart, she wanted to hear the details.

  "Aren't you glad to be rid of him?” Lorraine asked. "I know you two have had problems and you can't stand the man."

  Kirsten nodded, not able to utter a single word, tears threatening to work their way to the surface. How could he do this? How could he just leave like this, without even letting her know? Had what they shared not meant anything? It probably didn't, she couldn't help conclude. Otherwise, he would have spoken to her.

  The fish tacos were appreciated by Lorraine but Kirsten could hardly eat a bite. Her appetite had been robbed by heartbreak and anger. She needed to face him. She needed to know why he was doing this. She desperately needed answers. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I've got to go do something for a sec."

  Lorraine cocked a brow, curious. "Where? What?"

  Kirsten dashed out of the apartment, didn't even bother to put on shoes.

  He answered on the second knock. He wore a serious expression and didn't seem completely surprised to see her at his door.

  "So you're moving." She jumped right into it. No sense in beating around the bush. "Why didn't you tell me?"

  He rubbed his eye with the back of his hand, seemingly irritated. "It all happened really fast. I just decided..."

  "Why?"

  He fixed her with an intense expression. "Why do you think?"

  She didn't quite understand his words. Was he telling her what she thoug
ht he was saying, that he was getting away from her? Had she really been so horrible or distracting? Had she brought out the same feelings of confusion and uneasiness in him, as he had in her? "You're trying to get away from me?" she asked, the words soft and trailing with uncertainty.

  He shot her a tight-lipped smile. "I need to," he confessed. "You and me... it's too much. And you know I'm not the man for you, and you just want to have fun right now."

  "But why move? That seems a little extreme."

  He shrugged, hands in pockets. They were still standing at the door. He hadn't invited her in. "I need a change," he told her. "I've been feeling restless. And it'll be exciting to move to a new place."

  "But you just moved here," she pointed out. "Less than a year ago."

  Kirsten's heart sank deeper. It was over. No more surprise run-ins at the elevators, or naughty pop-ins. He would probably not even leave a forwarding address. He would be completely gone from her life. She couldn't bear it. "Maybe we could keep in touch..." Even as she said the words, she knew this would be a bad idea. A clean break was what they both needed.

  He shook his head. "You know you're better off without me, Kirsten."

  And with those words, she knew it was over. She knew she would have to accept it and move on. She just didn't know if she could.

  13

  You look well-ridden…

  Ethan had had just about enough of his real estate agent. She was, yet again, trying to convince him to lower his price. But he refused to do so. He wanted what the place was worth, and he would accept no less.

  She clutched a folder of papers in one hand, and a briefcase in the other, looking like she planned to take over the world. "Mr. Fox," she started, shoulders squared. "I've been doing this for a long time. And I can tell you from experience... you will not sell at this price," she pressed, matter-of-fact. "Do you even want to sell?" she asked him, irritation evident in the deep grooves lodged between her brows. "Because honestly, you don't seem very motivated."