Fix Me: Men of Sander’s Valley, book 2

by Wolfe, Hayden

  She set her glass down. “Ronnie, when Abby arrives for the wedding, you can share your experience with her, but for now, let her arrange the pieces however she wants. You need to give her the chance to succeed. She can’t do that while you’re holding her hand.”

  Ronnie stiffened. “And if sales suffer because Abby isn’t showcasing the in-demand artwork?”

  “Then she’ll either change her tactics, or you’ll replace her.” Iona leaned forward. “You’re already handling the auctions and the books. You’ll know if she’s faltering.”

  Kyle laid a hand on Ronnie’s thigh. “Your sister is right, doll.”

  Ronnie glanced between them and sighed. “All right, I’ll keep my nose out of it.” She picked up her bottle of water and sipped. “I heard you met Wyn. What do you think of him?”

  Iona hadn’t expected the abrupt change in subject. She shifted in her seat. The mention of his name quickened her breath. Probably put a nice blush on her cheeks too. She ran her fingers through her loose hair, letting the strands fall forward to hide any evidence of her embarrassment. “He’s nice.”

  Ronnie grinned. “He’s also Kyle’s best man.”

  Great. Just what she needed, to spend more time with him. Iona groaned and immediately regretted the sound.

  Kyle narrowed his eyes. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  “No, of course not. I was just…” She scrambled for a reason to explain her annoyance. “I was just thinking about the size of heels I’ll have to wear so I don’t look like a child next to him.” She leaned forward. “Platform heels. That’s what I’ll need.”

  “He is tall.” Ronnie smirked. “Handsome too.”

  “And younger.” Iona would latch on to any excuse to douse her attraction to him. The more she thought about it, the more she realized how awkward screwing Wyn would be. She’d see him whenever she returned to Sander’s Valley. Since she didn’t plan on a relationship, it’d be difficult to say the least.

  “Two years.” Ronnie shook her head. “That’s nothing and you know it.”

  “I’m not interested in a boyfriend. Dmitry killed my desire for a relationship.” Why had she brought that up? Ronnie hadn’t mentioned anything about Iona dating Wyn. The man was on Iona’s mind, though.

  “So you are attracted to him?” Ronnie’s eyes took on a mischievous glint.

  Iona huffed. “I’m in no mood for silly matchmaking, dear sister. Good night.”

  She stood and strode from the room before Ronnie could argue with her. Once in the hallway, Iona quickened her steps. She’d avoided Ronnie’s pointed questions about her breakup with Dmitry but had accidentally let slip that he didn’t understand why she’d wanted to end things. Luckily, she’d wised up before she’d spilled all the nasty details.

  He’d claimed his affair was merely one last hurrah before tying the knot, that he hadn’t even had full intercourse. Oral sex didn’t count. She couldn’t care less what he’d done with the woman or what excuse he’d spouted. It was the fight they’d had after she’d tossed his ring back at him that guaranteed they’d never make up.

  He’d revealed his true nature. He wanted to own her. Control her. Turn her into a possession.

  His little princess.

  She’d told him to go screw himself. He’d wrapped his hand around her throat and slammed her into the wall. She’d been sure he’d beat her. He hadn’t. He’d warned her they weren’t over. Never would be. Then he’d let her go.

  She’d considered herself lucky until the phone calls started. The demands to return to him so they could work out their issues. The oddities that made her wonder if he hadn’t hired someone to follow her.

  So many times she’d been tempted to call the police. She never had. What was she supposed to say? That she suspected her longtime boyfriend, the beloved son of a prominent family, was stalking her? Doing so would cause a scandal, her mother had said. Iona would ruin the Volkova name by making false claims. Of course, the disgrace her mother had sought to avoid had happened anyway. Only, she’d shamed them, not Iona.

  Guilt weighed heavily on her. Had she taken her mother’s threats against Ronnie seriously, Ronnie wouldn’t have been shot. Iona paused halfway down the hall and flung an arm out to brace her body against the wall. Deep breaths calmed her racing heart.

  Her rational mind understood it had been out of her control. She hadn’t known her mother had stopped taking her medication or had been on any in the first place. She’d threatened to kill lots of people, her husband included. Iona’s heart, however, still bled for Ronnie and Kyle.

  Iona pressed a balled fist to her chest and fought the memories of finding a bleeding Ronnie, then ran to her room before the sister who’d almost died because of Iona’s crazy mother came looking for her.

  With the door to her bedroom closed, she dropped her head against the wood. She’d allowed too many painful memories to surface. No doubt dreams would haunt her tonight unless she could replace them with something more pleasant. A smile tugged at her lips. She knew exactly what would work.

  The image of long legs, narrow hips, and a wide chest filled her mind. Wyn had looked incredible stretching out from underneath the truck. The dirty clothes and scuffed boots had added to the overall picture he’d made. One glance and she’d decided she wanted him. More than that, she needed to get laid.

  She hadn’t been able to think of anything besides sex in weeks. It was all Ronnie’s fault too. Her talk of how amazing Kyle was in bed and how she’d been missing out on good hard fuckings by dating the wrong men had stirred Iona’s longings.

  She’d decided a country boy was exactly what she needed to get out of her slump and finally push thoughts of a possessive Russian businessman from her mind. Too bad she hadn’t learned the names of Kyle’s brothers before she hit on one of them.

  If anything, Wyn had given her something to picture while she touched herself. She’d take that. It beat Dmitry’s blond hair and blue eyes.

  She kicked off her heels, stripped out of her clothes, and padded to the patio doors. The house Kyle had built had a wraparound deck on the first floor and small balconies off the bedrooms facing the lake. She didn’t dare step outside on hers in case Ronnie and Kyle decided to enjoy the night too, but the beauty of the countryside drew Iona.

  She opened the French doors and dragged in a deep breath. The tightness in her shoulders eased. She scanned the still waters, then focused on the home on the other side of the lake. No lights shone inside it, but a few lit up the walkway. Did anyone live there? She’d have to ask Wyn tomorrow.

  A small chuckle slipped free. The man was sly. She had to give him that. Within ten minutes, he’d weaseled three dates out of her and left her longing for the fulfillment of his wicked promises. And also ones she couldn’t indulge in. It really was too bad. From the kiss they’d shared, he’d likely be a phenomenal lover. Well, he’d simply have to live in her dreams.

  She tipped her head back and took deep lungfuls of the refreshing air. No wonder Ronnie liked it here. Everything smelled so clean and pure, not tainted with the ripe scent of garbage in the city or exhaust from the vehicles packed on the roadways. It was…peaceful. Exactly what she needed. One of the things she needed, anyway.

  She turned her back on the star-filled sky and made her way to the bed. Wyn would help her tonight. Tomorrow, after their walking date, she’d look for a different country boy to ease the ache between her legs, one she could fuck and walk away from without worry of alienating Ronnie.

  Stretched on top of the soft mattress, Iona conjured Wyn’s face. His brown eyes and hair, the touch of stubble along his jaw, and his straight nose could’ve belonged to any number of men she’d met. The addition of his full lips, cleft in his chin, and dimples in his cheeks set him apart from the crowd. What truly made him memorable, however, was the combination of his gentle touch and the confident way he’d kissed her.

  She wasn’t quite sure she’d ever forget how his mouth felt on hers. She licked
her lips and swore she could still taste him. A shaky sigh escaped. She skimmed her hand over her breasts. A pinch and roll pebbled her nipples. She toyed with them, scraping her nails over the tips and circling her areolae until her back arched.

  With her lip caught between her teeth, she squirmed over the sheets and finally gave up on teasing herself. Using a single finger, she traced a line down the center of her body.

  At the top of her sex, she caressed her smooth skin, loving how soft and sensitive she felt without hair there. Eyelids squeezed tight, she dragged her knuckles down her cleft. Her womb clenched, spilling more arousal over her hand.

  Wyn’s roughened cheeks would send sparks of awareness along her lower lips. If he rubbed his chin back and forth over her opening, she’d slicken his face, making the tiny hairs on his jaw glisten. He’d look wicked, naughty, and unbelievably sexy. Not as much as when he ate her out, though. With the tip of his tongue on her clit, he’d peer at her from under his long lashes. The expression of hunger on his face would undo her.

  After he’d tongued her center and made her cream all over him, he’d kiss her. He wouldn’t shy away from any act. He’d share it all with her. The glimpse of his passion he’d shown her told her he’d enjoy every aspect of lovemaking.

  Maybe he would even hold her afterward.

  The idea took hold. Her desire skyrocketed. She brought her hand to her mouth and swept her tongue over her drenched fingers. So wet, and all she’d done was picture him. What would it feel like if his long, thick erection pierced her?

  Her thighs trembled.

  She plunged two fingers into her core, pretending it was his cock spreading her folds. Her sex clamped down. Tiny waves massaged her digits. She drew her hand back and thrust forward. A moan fell past her lips. She repeated the stroke and whimpered. Her fingers didn’t come close to filling her the way he would.

  She lifted her bottom and pushed deeper, searching for the elusive area that would send her over the edge. He’d have no problem stimulating her G-spot with his rigid cock or his roughened fingers. She pumped her short ones into her core.

  Frustration built along with the tightness in her womb. She’d teased herself to the point where she needed to come. The ache had spread along her inner walls, and her clit tingled almost to the point where the sensations assaulting her no longer offered pleasure. Part of her wanted to pull her hand away and breathe through the arousal. The other side knew the orgasm she’d careen into would be the kind that left her weakened and wishing for more.

  With her lip caught between her teeth, she drove her fingers deep and rolled them, screwing herself. A shudder raced through her body. She smiled even as tears leaked from her eyes.

  A curl and thrust and she teased her sensitive walls. She writhed, adding a twist of her hips to her driving strokes, wishing it were Wyn who parted her muscles and readied her body for release. She wanted to milk him and feel the hot rush of his seed. Dreams long buried gripped her. She wanted to know what that felt like, to trust a man enough to be one with him in the most intimate way, to love and know it would last forever.

  The emotion added to the lust whipping through her. Her breathing quickened, heart pounded, and skin burned. So close. Tingles built. A few more thrusts and…

  Her phone rang. She jumped and clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a scream. The scent of her arousal invaded her nose. She wiped her fingers in her discarded sleep shirt, scrambled across her bed, and bent to snatch her phone from her purse.

  Please don’t let it be Dmitry. Please.

  A local number showed on the display, no name. She frowned, even as relief swept through her. A wrong number, had to be, except the explanation didn’t feel right. She answered anyway. “Hello?”

  “Come outside. Now.”

  “Wyn?”

  “Who else would be calling you?”

  The sharp bite to his words confused her. She shrugged it off. She didn’t know him well enough to judge his moods. “Why are you here?”

  “I’ll tell you when I get there. Put your clothes back on and wait for me on the front porch. I’ll be there in five.”

  “Put my clothes back on?” She gasped and ran to the open patio doors. A flash of light shone on the porch across the lake. It was his house. “Did you—”

  “Hurry, Iona.”

  The line went dead.

  She stood there a moment and debated what to do, but his command echoed in her head, demanding her obedience.

  “I’m a fool.” She couldn’t deny him.

  She yanked on her clothes, slipped into her heels, and tiptoed down the hall. In the back of her mind, she knew she was making a mistake. Damn if she could stop herself. The idea of refusing him felt wrong.

  She paused at the front door and shook her head. This is what six months of celibacy did to her. It made her horny and wild.

  And dear God, she couldn’t wait for Wyn to tame her.

  With her hand on the door, she closed her eyes. No sex. Just kissing. Touching. That wouldn’t be awkward later.

  Who was she kidding? She was going to screw herself by going outside to be with him. She’d tell him the truth, that she wasn’t interested in a relationship, and let him decide. It’d be the fairest thing to do. She hoped. She had no other recourse. Wyn had ordered, and she’d obey.

  The irony wasn’t lost on her. Dmitry had tried to control her for the five years they’d known each other. She’d fought him. Made him beg. It had filled her with satisfaction until he’d admitted he’d only played her. But Wyn’s demand? She was ready to leap into his arms after knowing him for less than a day. To kiss him, that was all.

  She snorted at her own foolishness and opened the door to let fate or Wyn Sander have his way with her.

  Chapter 4

  The woman would be the death of him. Or take him to heaven. At the moment, Wyn didn’t care which, as long as he got his mouth on Iona again.

  He hadn’t meant to watch her. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to glance at his brother’s house. Wyn’s nightly ritual involved a beer, his ass planted on his patio chair, and sometimes a bag of potato chips. Tonight had been no different. He’d stepped outside with his lager, but a light had turned on in a different room of Kyle’s home. It had caught Wyn’s attention. He’d grabbed his binoculars and gotten the show of his life.

  His plan had been to get to know Iona, find out what made her tick, and learn her secrets. That had been before he’d watched her lick her arousal off her fingers. He hungered for the same and would get it too. Tonight. From the way she’d responded to him earlier, it wouldn’t take much to convince her to spread her legs for him. Once she did, he’d feast.

  The click of her heels reached him through the open windows and dragged him out of his thoughts. He waited for the door to open, ready to bring his fantasy to life. Time stretched. Had she changed her mind? Actually, it would surprise him if she’d obeyed him to begin with, not that he’d complain. They barely knew each other.

  The door opened. He eased into the shadows next to it. His lust guaranteed he’d devour her as soon as he got his hands on her. He couldn’t wait, but he wanted to sear her image into his memory first.

  Iona was special. Every moment with her was one he wanted to treasure.

  He still hadn’t figured out what it was about her that drew him. In all honesty, he didn’t care. He only knew he liked how he felt.

  Focused. Aroused. Possessive.

  He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her she belonged to him. Unfortunately, it’d ensure he lost her, especially after her insistence that she was here for the wedding. Only.

  He pushed the primitive drives back and let her image become his focal point, something to hold on to so he never forgot who stirred his instincts.

  She walked to the railing and glanced in the direction of his house. Her hair hung to midback in a wild mess of waves. His fingers itched to touch her shiny locks, twist the strands, and maybe replait her tresses.

  He for
ced his gaze from her tempting hair to the cutoffs molded to her bottom. They were the same as she’d worn earlier, along with the midriff top. Only difference was her shoes. A pair of black heels with little red bows on the back of them added inches to her frame.

  Mine. Maybe only for tonight, but he’d have her.

  He stepped behind her, spun her into his arms, and covered her mouth with his, swallowing her gasp. The hint of her arousal flavored the melding of their mouths. He tilted his head, licking the insides of her lips, her cheeks, her tongue. She tasted so damn good. A guttural sound crawled up his throat. He hungered for more. All of her.

  “Iona.” He whispered her name before bending her backward and kissing her harder.

  A whimper answered him, all she could probably manage with his tongue dueling with hers. The sound fueled him just as his sighed name would’ve. Not wanting to push her too fast, he slid his hands over her sides to settle at her hips and waited for her next move. She gave it to him on a groan of pure lust, linking her arms around his neck and letting him support her weight. No hesitation or fear showed in the way she touched him. It was all he needed to know.

  He lifted her bottom, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing the points of her heels into his ass. His cock jerked. He fought the urge to peel her shorts away and lower her onto his straining dick. Sex on his big brother’s front porch hadn’t been on his agenda, but with her lips on his, all he could think about was spreading her legs and tonguing her clit until she creamed all over his face.

  He tore his mouth from hers. Dilated brown eyes met his. The sight acted like an aphrodisiac.

  He cupped her face in his hands. “Walk with me, Iona.”

  “Walk?”

  He loved knowing he reduced her to simply repeating his statement. Best damn ego boost she could give him.

  He nodded. “You’re not afraid to be alone with me, are you?”

  She blinked. “Should I be?”

  “No, darling. You’re completely safe with me. Sexually, physically, and emotionally. I won’t hurt you. I swear on my life.” He snorted. “I swear on my brothers’ lives too, and if you’ve learned anything about the Sander family, you understand what that means.”