Free Fix You: Bash and Olivia by Christine Bell Page A

quake.
    “Upstairs,” she whispered. “Please, Bash. Now.”
    Her words threaded their way through the haze of sex clouding my mind and I paused. She was right. We only had a dozen guys who trained here and none of them were scheduled for today, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. Not with Olivia.
    Rather than set her down, I scooped her up high and tossed her over my shoulder in a fireman’s hold. She squealed in laughing protest, but there was a method to my madness and she stopped squealing the second I slid my hand between her thighs.
    “Oh, that feels good,” she murmured.
    Fuck yeah, it did. The heat was pouring off her and when I thought of that heat wrapped around my cock, my knees nearly buckled.
    I resisted the urge to take the stairs two at a time. I had precious cargo, and the two of us taking a dive down the steps because I couldn’t get up them fast enough would definitely kill the mood. If we only had one night, it needed to be perfect.
    My gut clenched at the reminder and I shoved it away, refusing to think about anything but here and now.
    We reached the top of the stairs and I hung a left, heading straight for my room. The bed wasn’t made, and there were some clothes on the floor, but all in all, not too bad. I’d take it. I bent and set her on the ground and then straightened.
    “If you want to change your mind, I won’t be mad.” It nearly killed me to say those words, but I wanted to give her one last chance to think it over before I made sure she couldn’t think at all.
    She shook her head slowly and laid a hand over my heart. “Not a chance.”
    Relief poured through me, chasing away all but that last stubborn chunk of foreboding in my gut.
    Here and now.
    I took her hand and led her to stand by the bed. She managed a shaky smile and gripped the edge of her T-shirt, then tugged it over her head in one fluid motion. I wanted to tell her how amazing she looked, but all I could manage was a muttered, “Jesus.”
    She was wearing a sports bra underneath her shirt, but it was small, and sheer and white and covered just about nothing. Her tight, rosy nipples were clearly visible beneath the gauzy fabric.
    In a trance of lust and want, without hesitation, I dropped my head low and took one gently in my teeth. She let out a hiss and cupped my head, urging me closer. I licked and sucked until she was chanting my name, fingers digging into my scalp.
    She tasted so good and her responses were so fucking hot and uninhibited, it took everything I had to stop. She murmured a protest, but went quiet when I stripped my own shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor next to hers.
    “Your body is ridiculous,” she murmured, almost reverently. Her eyes ate me alive, sending the blood pounding in my ears straight south to join the rest of it, filling my cock to near bursting.
    I might have survived unscathed if she’d stopped and let me do my thing. But she didn’t. Her want-glazed eyes locked onto my waistband, where the head of my cock was fighting the good fight for freedom. She dropped to her knees like a marionette with its strings cut and tugged my pants down.
    “Wow.”
    I shook my dizzy head and let out a pained laugh. Of all the things you want a girl to say the first time she sees your dick, “wow” is pretty high on the list, but in the state I was in, that and a stiff breeze had the potential to end me.
    When she closed her fingers around me and bent her face closer, I squeezed my eyes closed to block out the sight. That coupled with the sensation of her hands on me was system overload.
    “Can I?”
    The laugh never came out this time, which was good, because it was likely the kind that you only heard in the loony bin. Gorgeous, funny, wounded Olivia Beckett wanted to know if she could wrap those gorgeous lips—lips that haunted my dreams—around my dick.
    She didn’t wait for an answer. Her mouth closed over me. Hot, wet silk winding its way around my cock, pulling and sucking,