Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 3 Read online

  I leaned back and joined him, staring at his slick cock as I took him in deeper, pulled away slower. Lost myself to him.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice all grit now.

  The need in his voice made me want to hear more of it and I yanked the blouse over my head and dropped it behind me. His pupils dilated, and I went on, twisting my arms behind me and unlatching my bra. Exposing myself to him in the cool night air.

  His hands left my thighs and he cupped my breasts, massaging them with his palms before taking each of my nipples between thumb and forefinger and twisting, lightly at first, and then harder.

  “God, Bash.” The cry escaped my lips and that store of self-discipline I’d managed to cobble together was slipping fast. My thrusts were growing faster by the second and the world was spinning around me like I was in the heart of a tornado.

  The rough pads of his fingers on my straining nipples. My core quickening over his swollen cock as he plunged into me over and over again. The intoxicating mix of adrenaline and desire zinging through my veins like fine champagne.

  And Bash. Only Bash.

  His hot, hard muscles. The slight smile on his lips. The way his blue eyes penetrated me to me very core.

  I was heading toward the cliff, ready to topple off the edge into the oblivion of release, but then he pulled his hands away and grasped my hips, slowing our movements.

  “Not yet. I don’t want it to end,” he whispered.

  I wanted to protest. We had plenty of time. If it ended now, it could begin all over again later, but then his fingertips were caressing my swollen bud, circling and stroking slowly until I moaned low in my throat. A torturous tenderness that was pure ecstasy.

  “I need to come,” I begged in a voice that was so unlike my own. It was huskier, needier.

  “You will,” he promised. “Close your eyes.”

  I did. And though my lids fluttered with the thrill of his touch, I managed to shut out the world completely. To focus only on his fingers as he stroked me. On his other hand as it traced a path up my stomach and rested on my breast again. Then he was pulling me down and I followed.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” he breathed, so close that I could feel his warm breath on my face, and then his lips were on mine. As the kiss intensified, so did his thrusts. Both hands were on my hips again and he sucked me in, deeper and deeper until the blackness of my tunneled vision exploded into bright white starlight.

  One hand dipped between my thighs again, and the starlight erupted into fireworks. Every cell was a live wire and the taste of his tongue had lit the fuse. My fingers splayed out, gripping the blanket hard as I tried to stay grounded, but there was no stopping as the waves crashed over me. I was hurtling out of control and he had it all.

  “Oh baby, keep coming.”

  He’d broken our kiss and was murmuring softly to me, but I could hardly make out the words. Electricity was crackling in my ears as the orgasm stretched on and on. I wasn’t jumping from a cliff, I was jumping from the edge of the earth and my free fall was limitless. Unchained.

  When the final waves began to subside, I opened my eyes again to find Bash staring at me, an agonized smile on his lips.

  “Jesus, you drive me crazy, Liv. That image will be burned in my brain for a lifetime.”

  He hadn’t stopped moving inside me, but his work was slow and torturous again. He didn’t say a word, just rested a hand on the small of my back.

  I took a breath and leaned back on my haunches and licked my lips, tender from his kisses. Then I took the reins, lifting high before sliding back down until my ass smacked against his thighs. He hummed out his approval and I did it again, faster and faster, reading his reactions, playing his body the way he’d played mine. Soon, that iron control of his was gone and he was thrusting back against me wildly, hurtling toward his own release.

  “Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth. Then he sprang up and clutched my waist, pressing my breasts to his chest as he chanted my name and his cock twitched and jerked inside of me.

  I held on to him for dear life until he sank back, still holding me, and I sprawled across his chest. “I love you, Bash,” I murmured, stroking his quaking stomach.

  “You too, Liv. You too.”

  The sounds of the night permeated my brain as I came back to earth, my beer buzz burned away by the heat of his touch. I was clearheaded and happy and so in love, I could hardly breathe.

  Cannoli, Twinkies, and Pabst Blue Ribbon on the roof. It might not be normal, but it was my first taste of our normal, and it was perfect.

  Chapter Six

  Bash

  It was only Bash’s promise of breakfast and the fact that I had a 9:00 a.m. exam that got me sitting up in bed the next morning. If not for that, I’d have stayed there all day. I’d been right about one thing. The night before had been the best of my life. If it could be like that between us forever, I could die a happy woman.

  I could hear him bustling around in the kitchen, and couldn’t help but grin. It wouldn’t be the first time he cooked for me, and while his dinners were sketchy, his scrambled eggs were always on point.

  The cell on the nightstand buzzed and I leaned over to grab it. Bash must have set his alarm as a backup.

  I went to thumb the cancel button when a text lit up the screen.

  Be here half an hour before fight time Saturday. The boss has some papers for you to sign.

  Bile rose, hot and bitter in my throat. There was no contact info, but there didn’t need to be. I knew exactly where it had come from.

  I threw the phone on the bed next to me and stared at it like it was a scorpion, thoughts zinging through my head like little bees, each one stinging more than the last.

  Bash had lied to me. Again. Hadn't we just gone over this? Hadn't he just promised me not two weeks ago that there would be no more lies? No more "protecting" me from the rough stuff?

  "You good with scrambled again? I was going to do over easy, but the yolks—" He stepped into the room, spatula in hand, and slowed to a stop, his gaze flickering between me and the still-lit phone on the bed. “What’s going on?”

  I choked out a laugh and hugged my arms around my chest, trying to forget the fact that I was wearing his T-shirt. His T-shirt that still smelled like him. “Jesus, Bash, why?”

  Any hope that it was some misunderstanding or what I'd read wasn't as bad as it seemed fled at the expression on his face. He looked flat-out busted.

  He scrubbed a hand over his chin and blew out a sigh. "Liv, I was going to tell you. I just wanted to wait until after the hearing—"

  "Just tell me what it means, Bash." My voice didn't even sound like my own. In fact, I sounded a lot like my mom, which, up until a few days ago, would've been a devastating realization. Now, though, I suspected she was kind of a badass bitch, deep down. That was something I aspired to be, and there was no time like the present. "Don't give me some sugarcoated bullshit, either. We've been through enough together that I deserve better than that."

  He set the spatula down on the plywood box that acted as a dresser and crossed the room toward me. When he got within reach, I held out a hand to stop him.

  "You can talk from there."

  His nearness always derailed me. The closer he was, the more I just wanted to lean into him. Smell his skin, hear his heartbeat when I lay my head on his chest. And fuck that. I wanted to be mad. I deserved to be mad. Mad would shield me from what I really felt, which was utterly heartbroken.

  His jaw tensed but he stopped and sat on the end of the bed. "Mickey did call me the day after the fight. I didn’t lie about that. And he wasn't going to pay me the rest of the money, but he wasn’t willing to wait another month and a half without the interest compounding.”

  More Mickey Flynn. My hands went icy cold and I flexed them into fists. "Go on."

  "He said the crowd liked me, and now that I’m a known commodity, he could pay me more. Enough to cover the rest that Matty owes plus another ten if I
lose."

  "Wait, why would he pay you to lose?"

  “I’m an odds-on favorite now. He feels like people are going to put a lot of money on me. If I throw the fight, he stands to make way more than just what Matty owed him. Tens of thousands, if he does it right."

  "Does Matty know?" I already suspected the answer to that question.

  "No."

  Of course he didn't. Because he never would have let Bash go through with it if he knew.

  "You said this Spada fight was your big chance. You told me yourself that it was everything. Your ticket out of Boston. If you’re too injured to fight him, or at least, fight him well, what happens to that ticket?"

  He swallowed hard, his strong throat working furiously, and I wondered dully if he knew he was about to lie to me again, or if he was lying to both of us so well at this point that he didn't even realize what he was about to do.

  "I won’t get hurt. I’m going to be really careful, and take the dive in the second round. I won’t miss the fight. And even if I can’t beat Spada, I could still come back from one loss. It's been done many times before. I'm young. I'm hungry. If anyone can do it, it's me.”

  I bent down and snatched my hoodie off the floor and pulled it over my head. Thankfully, my anger had skyrocketed at this last round of bullshit and the heat of it burned the rest of my sadness away. "If this is such a great fucking plan, why not let Matty and Reid in on it? Why hide it from your brothers too?"

  I sat on the edge of the bed and jammed my sneakers onto my feet. I couldn't stay here and listen to any more of his platitudes.

  "Because they'll try to stop me. Look, I know you don't want to hear it right now, but I had no choice."

  "You always say that. I’m sick to death of it. You have a choice, Bash. You could have chosen to talk to me and your brothers and maybe we could have worked something out together. The way people who love each other and have each other's backs do. I’ll be getting my bail money back now that the case has been dismissed. That right there is nearly enough to cover what Matty owes. Did you ever think of that?”

  The stubborn set of his jaw told me that he had.

  “What? My money isn’t good enough for you?”

  “Your money is your fucking money, Liv. That bail money plus the extra I get from Saturday’s fight will be enough to cover your tuition for next semester. Then, once I get the Spada purse, win or lose, we’ll have enough for the last semester and you can graduate from Crestville.”

  I flew to my feet and jabbed my finger into his chest. “My money is my money, but you get to bleed for me? Again? We could have all worked this out together, but instead you decide to play the goddamned superhero while we all get to sit back and watch while you crash and burn. Did you ever think that maybe what you’re doing is selfish? Did you ever wonder if you're hurting more than helping?"

  "How so?" He took a step back and pinned his gaze at a spot over my head, the frustration etched all over his face. I could already feel him checking out. "By making sure that my brother doesn't wind up getting kneecapped by some psycho with Napoleon syndrome just dying to make an example of him in the neighborhood? By not wanting my girlfriend to throw away her education because her dumb jock of a boyfriend can’t take care of her? I warned you, this is the man I am.”

  He pointed an accusing finger in my direction, his angry gaze locked on mine now.

  “And you said you wanted in. So now tell me what I'm supposed to do. Give me a solution that I can fucking live with. Give me something that won’t keep me awake at night and I’ll do it, Liv."

  I covered my mouth with a trembling hand and shook my head. This was a waste of breath. He didn’t get it. Maybe I didn’t have the solution, but he didn’t trust in me or think I was strong enough to even come to me with the problem.

  I wanted a partner. Someone who saw me as an equal. I didn’t want to be some needy princess who couldn’t stand on her own two feet. I was made of sterner stuff than that.

  So I called on every ounce of that sterner stuff and walked the fuck out.

  Chapter Seven

  Bash

  Three days and three nights. I hadn’t seen or heard from Liv since the morning she’d walked out my door.

  “You going out tonight?” Reid asked, taking two quick jabs at his own face in the floor-length mirror.

  “Stop doing that,” Matty said, barely looking up from behind the desk where he sat reading the sports section of the newspaper. “You’re a terrible boxer. Stick to what you know.”

  “What I know is, if I took a year out to practice, I could kick both of y’all’s asses in the boxing ring if push came to shove. But the ladies prefer martial arts, so I’m going to stick with that.”

  Matty snorted and the light in Reid’s dark eyes paired with that cocksure smile almost made me smile back at him, which was clearly the goal.

  And then I remembered everything still sucked, and Liv was never coming back to me. I punched the heavy bag with all my might, wincing when the force of the blow sent a stinger up my arm.

  Reid turned away from the mirror and came to stand next to me.

  “Enough is enough, bro. You’ve been at it for days now, nonstop. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “Kid’s right, Bash. Six weeks until fight night, and the last thing you need is another injury. That eye is looking good. If we can keep you healthy, you got a real shot. Eye on the prize.”

  Reid murmured an “amen to that,” but I wasn’t interested in talking about the fight or the prize. For the first time, when I pictured myself winning, all I felt was…nothing. Hollow. Like what the fuck did it matter if I didn’t have Liv to share it with?

  I punched the bag again with a grunt. “Butchie will be here soon. We’ll let him decide if I’m pushing too hard.”

  I knew he’d say I was. Hell, he was old but he wasn’t blind. Maybe I was punishing myself for being stupid enough to let Liv get away. Or maybe I was punishing myself for not being good enough for her in the first place. Guess it didn’t matter which. All I knew is that I was fucking miserable.

  “You ready to talk about it yet?” Matty asked. He’d laid his newspaper down and was eyeing me in that way he had. Like a psychologist probing into my brain, and it freaked me out.

  “Nope.” Not now, not ever.

  “I know you pretty good, so I’m going to take a stab at it,” Matty said, kicking back until he could swing his sneakered feet onto the desk. “You fucked it up with her and now you don’t know how to fix it. Am I close?”

  His cocky drawl made me wish he were fifty feet closer so I could pop him one in the gut.

  “Maybe it wasn’t his fault,” Reid said, bouncing on his toes before executing a neat roundhouse kick toward the mirror. “Maybe she did something wrong.”

  Matty grinned and shook his head slowly. “Oh, grasshopper, how green you are.” He folded his hands behind his head, warming to his role of grand master and making me want to punch him even more. “She is crazy about him and he’s crazy about her. Lesson one: a good woman like Liv who loves her man doesn’t walk away without a fight. If she screwed up, she’d already be here apologizing. Nope, I’m guessing it’s our blockhead brother who was in the wrong here, and he just hasn’t found his way around to it yet.”

  Fuck the distance.

  I wheeled around and charged toward the desk, intent on wiping that stupid grin off Matty’s face. With less than a yard to cover, Reid jumped in front of me and grabbed my shoulder.

  “This isn’t going to help, guys. Matty,” he called over his shoulder. “Stop being a prick. And you.” He locked his gaze with mine and frowned. “Get your head out of your ass. How bad can it be? After all we’ve weathered, how bad could it really be? You’ll find a way to fix this, man.”

  Weird, having Reid be the voice of reason. As much as I loved him, he was always a pain in the ass. Needling me just to get a reaction. Now all of a sudden, at nineteen, he was the most mature guy in the room.

&nb
sp; The thought made me feel like a heel and I backed up, holding my hands aloft in a sign of peace.

  “Okay. You’re right. I messed things up with Liv.” Only I couldn’t tell them how, because Matty still didn’t know I was fighting tomorrow night and when he found out, he was going to flip his shit.

  He’d forgive me. He had to. But Liv didn’t and I had no clue how to get her to. Backing out of the fight might have bought me another chance, but I couldn’t even do that. Making a deal with Mickey was like making a deal with the devil. We’d learned the hard way already; there was no turning back.

  She was right, though. I should’ve told her. I guess I didn’t because I knew she’d talk me out of it. She’d been ready and willing to throw her whole future away for me, and that, I couldn’t take. So I went the old “ask for forgiveness instead of ask for permission” route and it had bitten me in the ass and now I was stuck.

  “So call her,” Reid said. “It’s Friday night. I still have a little of the money from my last fight. Take a hundred bucks, tell her to put on a pretty dress, and bust your ass getting her to take you back.”

  I swallowed a bitter laugh. He was trying to help, but he had no clue how much I’d hurt her. Even now, remembering the look on her face made my guts churn. “If only it was that easy.”

  Maybe after the fight, when she saw that I was okay and that everything was going to be all right, she’d be willing to talk to me. And this time, if I made a promise, I would keep it.

  An hour later, Reid and Matty headed up to the apartment for pizza and I stayed behind to lock up for the night. My muscles were limp with fatigue after the intense workout, and I hoped that would translate into a decent night’s sleep. It would be the first in days, and with the warehouse fight tomorrow, I needed it bad.

  Just as I turned the dead bolt on the front door, my cell buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and my pulse clamored when I saw the screen.