Read Online Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 3 by Christine Bell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Bell
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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
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
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