Fix You: Bash and Olivia
happened to Bash to make him so mistrusting.
    Somehow, during all that wishful thinking, my legs had carried me toward him and I had closed the gap between us. When he stood again we were so close that his body brushed against mine.
    His hard mask slipped away, leaving behind a pained expression. "What are you doing, Olivia?" His breath was warm against my lips and I tipped my face toward him like a flower to the sun.
    "I don't know,” I whispered, rocking forward onto my tiptoes. It was like I was on autopilot. “I just need to…"
    And then I did it.
    I leaned in that last little inch.
    I wish I could say I thought it through, but my brain wasn’t part of the process. It was all feels. Like my very soul was straining toward his, and my body was just a shell waiting for direction from somewhere deep inside me. I couldn't have stopped it if I tried.
    When our mouths touched what felt like an eternity later, the room seemed to let out a sigh.
    Thisss.
    This was the thing I’d been waiting to feel. The thing people wrote about in books and sang of in songs. The thing that made the pain of the past few weeks fade away until there was nothing left except me and Bash.
    An instant later, the kiss went from sweet to off the rails. A low growl came from deep in his throat and he closed his hands over my hips, thumbs pressing into my flesh in a way that turned my stomach into a pool of taffy. His mouth slanted over mine and teeth and tongues clashed like it was war.
    And it was. A war inside me, at least. My brain had popped back into gear and I knew with every fiber of my being that what I was doing was wrong. I needed to stop, but my body was so not on board with that plan. Instead, I pressed closer, mashing my breasts to his chest, moaning into his mouth when the heat of his skin seeped into mine.
    More.
    He anchored me to him, crowding me backward until I felt the chill of the mirror against my back. Our bodies were flush now, and he speared a hand through my hair.
    It was madness. All-consuming madness.
    "Olivia?"
    He'd pulled back a scant inch to mutter my name before dipping back in to nip my bottom lip hard. I gasped, stunned at the sensation. It stung, but sent a bolt of need slamming through me so hard, my knees trembled.
    "Liv?" he tried again, before tracing my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue.
    "I-if you want me to answer you, stop doing that for a sec," I murmured desperately.
    “Doing what?” His voice was low and husky, like his throat was raw from screaming. Or tight with need. He was as far-gone as I was.
    The knowledge sent every nerve ending firing at once and, helpless to stop it, I flexed my hips against his in a slow grind, reveling in the thick evidence of his arousal.
    “Kissing me,” I croaked, and paused to moisten my throbbing lips. “And…touching me.”
    But apparently, whatever he’d needed to know wasn’t that important, because he didn’t stop. His fingers blazed a trail over my rib cage and higher, to trace the underside of my breast. I strained closer to him, and my nipple peaked in anticipation of his touch when a low buzzing sound reached my ears. Maybe the blood pounding in my head?
    “Your phone,” Bash muttered against my mouth. He pulled away, the breath sawing in and out of his lungs, and jerked his chin toward the floor where my cell sat.
    We both looked down at the name that lit the screen.
    Andy.

Chapter Six
    Bash
    “Answer it if you want to.”
    I wasn’t trying to be a dick or pull some reverse psychology on her. It was obvious by her stricken expression that whatever crazy-ass chemistry had been going on between us that made her kiss me had died a quick death the second she saw his name. No point in pretending otherwise. It fucking stung, though.
    She pressed her fingers to her mouth and shook her head. “I-I don’t want to.”
    That might be true, but his call definitely changed things. This was exactly the kind of complication my life didn’t need right now.

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