Fixed 01 - Fantasy Fix (11 page)

He chuckled. It felt like her brain vibrated.

I am at home,
milaya.
And I am here with you. Have you missed me?

“Not as much as my sanity.”

You are not crazy, Regina, just a bit too focused on what you believe to be real and imaginary. I will enjoy opening your eyes to new…possibilities.

“Will you stop that? Enough with the double entendre. Or was that a triple entendre?”

It was a promise
.

Reggie rolled her eyes, jumped up off the bed, faced thin air, since Misha was still
not
there, and growled, “That’s it, buddy. Get out of my head and stay out! We are going to lay this down in person, using noises and vocal chords and all sorts of wacky social conventions. Whatever you had planned for tonight can wait until you give me some answers. Now, g
o away
!”

He left with a chuckle, but leave he did. Reggie experienced the removal of his presence from her mind like a physical withdrawal and fought not to clench her thighs together.

“Jerk.” She snarled the insult and, lacking a certain arrogant Russian to clobber, slammed her closet door shut. “That tears it. Men are just pigs. All men. Every single sleazy, sex-obsessed, lesbian-fantasy-perpetuating, sports-show-watching, big-breast-ogling, secretary-screwing one of them!”

Furious, she came an inch away from consigning Dmitri to the same fiery pit of abhorrence Greg had fallen into, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Not yet anyway. She felt obligated to give the man a few more than eighteen hours to prove himself. Greg wore the label “lost cause” stamped on his forehead, but she might be able to salvage Dmitri.

With that thought in mind, a slow, wicked smile spread across Reggie’s face and a plan bloomed in her consciousness. Maybe this evening she could finally make Greg pay; and if Dmitri squirmed…well, that would just be icing.

She took another look at the velvet dress and an idea filled her mind. A very wicked, very naughty, very dangerous idea.

Carefully, she hung the dress back in the closet, and propped the door open wide to reveal the full length mirror that hung on the inside panel. She stepped backward to the bed, making sure she stayed in sight of her reflected image.

If Dmitri was so determined to poke around in her mind, she might as well make sure he found something worth his while.

When the back of her knees bumped against her mattress, she closed her eyes and concentrated.

At first, she didn’t even know what she was doing. She just kept her eyes closed and her mind blank and concentrated on the rhythmic pulse of her breath, in and out. When the last idle thought left her mind, she cast a mental look around to see what she might find.

She found traces of Dmitri everywhere, the echoing memory of her time with him. She examined those memories, but found them disconnected and unhelpful. She hesitated a moment, unsure of what she looked for, until she found it.

At the edge of her mind, she found a piece of him waiting, a fresh piece where he’d touched her mind a few minutes ago before she had ordered him to go away. She touched that piece and found it had the feel of his skin, hot and smooth and tingling with energy.

With a silent thanks to her years of meditation and yoga classes, Reggie grasped that piece in her mind’s hands and shifted it between them until she found the cord that bound it to its source.

A cord led her down an unfamiliar path, one she’d never seen before, and when her feet stepped along the mental corridor she knew Dmitri had recently laid it by linking his mind to hers. She knew he wouldn’t have been careless enough to leave it unless he wanted her to follow it. She couldn’t have found him on her own, not being Mr. Psychic Phenomenon like some people, but with the trail to follow she hesitantly made her way down the path that linked her mind to his.

She had some really great, subtle plans laid for sneaking up on him and staging a mental ambush, but the instant her mind slipped into his, she heard him chuckle.

What’s so funny?
she scowled.

You are,
milka.
You could not sneak up on a herd of deaf elephants, let alone on me. You don’t have my powers, and you cannot hope to use them against me
.

She heard his voice in her mind, rumbling and amused, and she decided to unveil her secret weapon.

I don’t need to sneak up on you,
she thought.
I have other things I can use against you much more effectively.

And with that, she opened her eyes, stared into her mirror and stripped off her jeans.

She felt his indrawn breath, felt the sudden stillness of his mental presence. She knew what she saw filled her mind and therefore filled his as well.

Because he’d ordered it last night, she wore no panties beneath her jeans. When she pushed them off her hips and let them fall to the floor, she bared herself to their shared sight. She felt him tense, and even though she couldn’t see where he was, couldn’t sense his body as she knew he could hers, she knew she had his undivided attention.

Smiling in wicked satisfaction, she ran her palms up the length of her smooth thighs, pressing the backs of her hands together and slipping them between her legs. Her forefingers tickled her tender pussy lips, and she spread her legs further while she stroked the tender surface of her inner thighs.

She dwelled on every sensation, just to torture him. Since he wasn’t there in person, he couldn’t interfere, couldn’t stop her from doing exactly as she pleased, and she relished the control.

Pulling her hands from between her legs, she let them glide over the soft curve of her stomach and up beneath her short, knit top. Grasping the hem in her hands, she tugged the shirt off and threw it onto the floor beside her discarded jeans. Standing in front of her mirror in nothing but a sheer, peach bra and a wide, wicked smile, Reggie let her lover look his fill.

Never before had she stood naked in front of a mirror and felt so sexy. Usually she was too busy cataloging her shortcomings and couldn’t see the overall picture. This time she had Dmitri’s thoughts tangled up with hers, and she could see herself the way he did. She saw the figure she thought of as twenty pounds too heavy had the ripe, lush curves of a pre-Raphaelite goddess. Her hips begged to receive a man’s weight, her thighs to clamp tight around him. Her waist looked tiny in contrast to her full hips and breasts that jutted heavy and proud from her chest. Dmitri loved the sight of her, and that made her beautiful in her own eyes.

Before he could take over completely, Reggie drew her gaze from her breasts and rested it on her hands while they unfastened the front clasp of her bra and let the filmy material fall away. With her mind full of Misha, she slid her hands up her torso and cupped her breasts in her palms.

She overflowed her own small hands, but she remembered the feel of Dmitri’s upon her, and she sighed. Her fingers rubbed over her erect nipples, making the flesh bead more tightly. The peaks stabbed into her palms, and she shifted to grip each nipple between her thumbs and forefingers. She squeezed with gradually increasing pressure until the squeeze became a pinch and the pinch made her moan. Her eyelids drifted down, but she kept them open, not wanting Misha to lose a moment of her sight.

Imagine if you were here with me,
she thought, weighing her breasts in her hands and meeting her own gaze in the mirror. She could almost see the faint black shadow of his eyes behind her own.
Imagine if you touched me again, how good it would feel.

She heard his growl and smiled.

Her fingers closed hard around her nipples, and she shuddered. She left one hand clamped around an aroused nipple, but slid the other down the center of her chest to her pussy. The damp flesh spread open in welcome, and she slid her fingers deep between her legs, brushing over her clit and burrowing between her puffy lips.

Do you remember how I felt, Misha? Was I this wet when you touched me? Because it feels like a river in here.

Her fingers shifted, pressed deeper, found her opening. She circled the tender flesh with the tip of one fingernail and made herself quiver.

That must have been why I was able to take you. You were so big, I thought for a minute that you wouldn’t fit, but I wanted you so much. I needed to feel you inside me. Like this.

She pressed two fingers together, fit them to her entrance and drove them deep into her pussy.

She heard him groan.

God! That feels so good, but not as good as your cock
. Her eyes were fixed on her image in the mirror, unable to look away from the sight of her hand buried deep between her pale legs. She couldn’t see well enough, though, so she withdrew her fingers briefly and pushed herself up onto the edge of her bed, spreading her knees wide and exposing her dripping cunt to the mirror.

Krasavitsa
, he groaned.
Beautiful woman
.

Her hand returned to her pussy, parting the drenched folds to reveal her inner secrets to the mirror and to his appreciative eyes. She found the sight fascinated her. She had never examined herself like this, never spread herself open in front of her own eyes and seen what she looked like to a lover.

Her pussy, dark red and plump with swelling, shone with her juices. It stood out in erotic contrast against her pale, slender fingers when she ran them lightly over her damp flesh, feeling the smooth, slick texture.

Do you think I’m beautiful?
Her fingers parted into a vee and slid between her labia, scissoring around her firm, little clit and tugging it gently. The rush of sensation made her eyes close for a second, but a growl from Misha sent them opening again.

You are gorgeous,
milka,
as you know. But I have warned you about teasing me.

She smiled and tickled her fingertips against her entrance, scooping up her flowing juices and using them to increase the lubrication.
And what will you do to me, Dmitri? Think me into submission?
Her two fingers slid inside easily, and she tightened her pussy around them, feeling her own internal contractions.

Is this what it feels like when I squeeze your cock, Misha? All soft and tight and slick?
She pumped her fingers in and out a few times and moaned, watching the movement in the mirror. Her hand grew slick and shiny from her cunt juice.
Mm, no wonder you like to fuck me. This feels so good.

The heel of her hand rubbed hard against her clit with every thrust of her fingers, until her hips rocked forward on every stroke. Her other hand lifted to massage her aching breasts, and her eyes closed. She didn’t need the mirror when the image of her own hand stroking her quivering pussy had etched itself into her mind.

She fell back against the bed and planted her feet on the edge of the mattress, using the leverage to thrust harder against her penetrating fingers.

She slipped a third digit inside herself and gasped, scraping her fingernails over her puckered nipple while she pleasured herself.

God, Misha, I want you here with me! I need you. I need you inside me.

Her head fell backward, snapping against her shoulders while her entire body arched up from the mattress like a drawn bow. Her fingers thrust hard and carelessly into her cunt, her nails scraping her tender inner tissues, while her thumb pressed hard, rapid circles against her clit.

Her breath stopped and her muscles tensed and her mind reached out to him and her orgasm burst. She came screaming his name, with her eyes squeezed shut and her fingers buried deep in her clenching pussy.

“Misha!”

The spasms shook her for long moments until she collapsed, aching and panting onto her bed. She lay there for several minutes, gasping while her lungs struggled to remember their job. She curled up on her side with her fingers still between her legs, cupped protectively over her sensitive flesh.

So there,
she thought sleepily, a smile curving her lips. She felt his continued tension and knew her display had aroused him furiously.
Now you know you’re not the only one who can play those little mental games. Maybe you’ll be more careful who you eavesdrop on next time.

The only thing I will be careful of, Regina,
he growled at her, enunciating each word clearly as if he spoke through gritted teeth,
is to make sure you get exactly what you deserve. If you tease me like that, you must be prepared to face the consequences.

Reggie snuggled her cheek into her pillow and yawned delicately.
Consequences, schmonsequences
, she thought.
You couldn’t hurt me if you wanted to, you big softy. You’re too careful for that.

I didn’t say the consequences would be painful,
milaya.
Only that they would be certain. Dream of that.

And she did. Oh, boy, did she ever.

Chapter Eight

Staring at the contents of her closet, clad only in a towel and her ratty bathrobe, with a glass of wine in her hand, Reggie planned her attack. The crucial first stage involved walking into the bar tonight and making Greg swallow his tongue. Then—maybe—she would think about asking someone to perform the Heimlich, but only if she was feeling generous. And only if it didn’t conflict with whatever plans Dmitri had made for them.

She surveyed her arsenal with a critical eye. Part of her wanted to ignore the red dress just because Dmitri had ordered her to wear it, but when she flipped through her wardrobe, she thought it might be her only viable alternative. Plus, she figured after the little performance she’d put on in her mirror, buttering up the man who wanted to make her pay might not be a bad idea.

Still, her contrary nature sent her searching through her closet one last time. Her usual collection of man-magnet dresses didn’t pack enough punch, not to mention Greg had seen almost everything she owned. If only she’d reacted to the breakup by shopping, she’d be set, but instead, she’d holed up in her apartment like a hermit. Now, she was paying the price.

Her right hand reached in to flip through hangers, discarding potential outfits, while her left hand brought the glass to her lips for a healthy swallow of wine. Normally, Reggie didn’t consider herself a big drinker. Girls’ nights were the exception to her behavior rather than the rule, but tonight she’d felt the need for a little liquid courage before braving the upcoming confrontation.