The Sweetest Fix

by Tessa Bailey

She just…never expected the instant attraction. When in real life does it ever happen? Leo Bexley had walked out in his apron, the top of his head nearly brushing the doorframe, and she’d gotten a zap of static in her fingertips. Followed by her toes and then inward. Straight to her belly button. And that was before he’d spoken in that hibernating-with-a-jar-of-honey voice and it resonated everywhere that counted. As in, her vagina.

“It’s okay,” she breathed, trying not to be obvious about ogling the size of his fingers. So. So big.

Up close, she could see his irises were rimmed in black. Although the dark of his pupils was quickly obscuring most of the denim color. Dilating. Definitely looking pretty closely at her mouth. And on reflex she wet her lips, her belly hollowing when his grip flexed in response.

This man was making a visible effort to see into her brain. He made a sound that could only be described as a sexy garbage disposal.

“What are you in it for, Leo?” He crossed his brawny arms and considered, staring down at the cake. “The repetition. The routine and tradition. I like the feeling of waking up in the morning before everyone else and them knowing…that they can walk in here and be fed, no matter what. That someone else took care of that worry for them. I guess I like being a given.”

“I liked kissing you.” A breath puffed out of her. “Oh.” “I’d like to do it again.” Her expression was nothing short of astonished, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes dropped to his mouth and heated. “Is that why you’re here? To kiss me?” “I’m here to ask you out.” His voice had fallen several octaves. “But if you’re offering…” “I don’t know if this is a good idea.” She hugged her elbows. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s not that I don’t find you crazy attractive—” “You have weird taste, but go on.”

“And you might get to kiss me again.” The flirtatious sparkle from Saturday night was finally back in her eye. He was so relieved, he had to concentrate on filling his lungs. “Do I have that about right?” “I’d be lying if I said that didn’t cross my mind eight hundred times.” “Since Saturday?” “Since we’ve been standing here.”

her apparently shameless mind wondering what they would feel like cradling her hips. Or fisting her hair. Reese coughed a little too forcefully into her elbow. Leo winked at her, as if he knew exactly which images her mind was conjuring up and they shared a slow smile. Oh God, she was doomed.

He was like a walking cup of hot chocolate by the fire.

“I don’t know, Reese,” he said, his voice significantly deeper. “If you want to nap, we’ll nap. If you want something else…” His breath rasped in. Out. “I’ll give it to you.”

“Are you letting me know who’s in charge, Leo?” “No, I’m giving you the option of letting me be in charge for a while.”

“You have a change of clothes in this bag or do you want one of my shirts?” She considered him through her lashes. “One of your shirts, please.” Leo nodded, turned for his bedroom, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm. Her slow touch slid up to his shoulder, her finger tracing a line down the center of his chest. “This one.” Jesus, all of his blood was rushing south. “You want the one I’m wearing?” “Yes.” “Because you want to see me shirtless or because you feel vulnerable in my place and want to even the odds?” Her mouth ticked up at one end, as if she appreciated his perceptiveness. “Both.” Leo nodded. “All right.”

He made an inarticulate gesture at himself. “This going to work for you?” “Hell yeah,” she breathed, looking at him like the question was insane. His surprise was swift and—don’t smile, Leo. Don’t fucking smile.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” Leo growled in her ear, his palm cracking down on her butt cheek. “Let everyone in the building know you’re getting that good dick.”

Nap date, tomorrow? I’ll bring sandwiches? Best text I’ve ever gotten, he responded, immediately. Hands down. Her lips curled up into a smile. I promise not to touch your utensil drawers. I want your hands all over my…utensils.

You’re the opposite, sweetheart. You’re the exception to every fucking rule, okay?”