Free The Fixer: New Wave Newsroom by Jenny Holiday Page A

sorry.
    I was also done being a goddamned monk.
    So I grabbed her and fell back onto the bed, hauling her on top of me. She shriek-laughed in delight, and it did something to me. The ribs that had twinged before were opening like doors now, but it wasn’t smooth. It wasn’t pretty. It felt like my chest was cracking open, jagged bits of bone piercing pathetic, inadequate lungs I couldn’t get enough air into. So I did the only thing I could do, which was to kiss her. She melted into me immediately, straddling me with her legs and letting her whole weight settle on me as she sighed and opened her mouth.
    Jenny
    When I pushed open the door to Matthew’s room, I sent a silent prayer to the sky. Please don’t let him have changed his mind . (Also: Please let me have inserted that sponge correctly .) If I had been on the pill, this awkward interruption of the action wouldn’t have been necessary. We could have gone right from rolling around on his bed kissing to…the rest. God, I could feel myself blush just thinking the words.
    â€œWhy me?” he said, the moment I’d shut the door behind me.
    â€œLook at you,” I said. He was propped up against his headboard with his shirt off—we’d gotten that far before I’d had to excuse myself for momentum-destroying sponge insertion. The twilight slanted in though the window, painting the planes of his lean, wiry frame with warm pink light and illuminating those insanely green eyes. His black hair fell in his face, and he swiped it away. Someone needed to paint him ,for heaven’s sake.
    He ducked his head and actually looked embarrassed. Could I ever have imagined, back when he was snarling at me and I was trying to bribe him with pizza, that I could make him blush? It made me feel bold. Powerful.
    â€œI’m no prize, Jenny,” he said, meeting my eyes again.
    â€œI’m not looking for a prize,” I countered, reaching around and undoing the zipper that ran up the back of my dress with a confidence I was faking. I wasn’t sure what I was looking for, in truth, but I didn’t really care to parse it now. I just wanted to get out of my head. That part at least wasn’t going to be hard, because just looking at him zoomed my body back to where it had been before, when we were kissing. A pulse began to beat between my legs, and as I let the dress fall and pool at my feet, the cool air hit my breasts, making my nipples peak almost painfully. I might have been a virgin, but I knew this feeling. I just hadn’t known I could get so close without touching myself.
    â€œGod,” he choked out, running his hands through his hair almost like he was having second thoughts.
    I wasn’t sure what to do with second thoughts. Had the onslaught of desire pressing down on me clouded my judgment? Had I made myself ridiculous? I pushed back at the questions. I didn’t want them. They would only make me cautious, and that caution would hobble me right now. So I reached for the one word that made sense to me in that moment: “Matthew.”
    He was off the bed in a flash, hands grabbing my hips as he crashed his mouth down on mine. Once he had steadied me, his hands came up to my breasts, sliding up under the strapless bra I wore and tracing their undersides, all the while making wicked, deep incursions into my mouth with his tongue. I was on fire everywhere he touched. I was on fire everywhere, period.
    And then, with no warning, he fell to his knees.
    I knew what he was doing. I mean, I knew with my mind. I was acquainted with the act in theory. But that didn’t mean I was prepared for him to shove my panties down around my knees and bury his face between my legs.
    It also didn’t mean I was able to stop myself from asking, on a shaky exhale, “What are you doing ?” As I spoke, he darted a tongue out and licked me like I was an ice cream cone, sending a jolt of pleasure so strong through me