Fixed 01 - Fantasy Fix (4 page)

Across the bar, her mystery man laughed out loud, and she heard the sound even over the din of music and conversation. She felt it, too. It vibrated in the pit of her stomach and aroused her like a caress. Her pussy dampened.

Okay, Reg, get a grip,
she instructed herself, breaking eye contact and looking around for her friends. Maybe they could distract her from her hormone attack. Danice still gyrated on the dance floor, this time partnered with a refugee punk with a burgundy mohawk. Corinne had joined them and danced with the guy Danice had left behind. At least Ava and Missy were still with her, and Ava wouldn’t budge until her friend got there. She thought she could count on Missy, too, but even as the thought crossed her mind, a group of women stopped next to their table and launched a babbling greeting of pleasure and surprise at seeing Melissa Roper, their old pal from college, here at the nightclub. Grateful for the chance to focus on something other than Mr. TakeMeNow, Reggie pasted on a smile and let Missy introduce her to the other women.

Their small table suddenly became the place to be in the crowded club. The friends seemed to breed more friends, and their numbers swelled from four to seven. Reggie stepped back to make room for yet another one of them to hug Missy hello and found herself maneuvered entirely away from the table. An elbow struck her in the small of her back, and she turned to glare at whoever hadn’t watched where he was going. She scanned the crowd, but no one looked close enough to be the culprit. Sighing, she turned back toward Missy and the college friends only to realize she’d lost their table completely. Somehow, when her back was turned, she’d been swept away in the crowd and couldn’t even see where Missy and Ava had been standing.

She started to get angry before another thought struck her. If she couldn’t see her friends, they couldn’t see her. She could make good her escape!

Suddenly, she felt like she’d just managed a prison break. Now she just had to avoid the warden and the bloodhounds long enough to make it through the front door, and she’d be a free woman.

She wasted no time. Ducking behind a tall man in purple latex, she started to weave a path through the bar and toward the front entrance. She’d gotten maybe five feet before a hand closed around her elbow and pulled her to a halt.

“Surely you are not leaving yet,
malishka
?”

Reggie rocked to a halt on her four-inch heels and froze. She felt the warm hand on her skin and the dark presence beside her, but everything else disappeared. Even the throb of the music faded into the background. Reggie refused to acknowledge whether or not anything else had taken up throbbing instead.

The voice that spoke from slightly behind wasn’t nearly as surprising as the firm, warm hand that slid down over the smooth satin of her corset to settle with intimate possession on her hip. Her head snapped up, and she found herself looking into the intense, black eyes of the stranger from the end of the bar.

Wow. He’s even yummier up close
.

That was her initial reaction, followed closely by an embarrassed blush when he smiled down at her with a lazy sort of amusement, as if she’d spoken her comments aloud.
That’s impossible, Regina. He’s just a guy, not a Psychic Friend. So get a grip. And what is he doing with his hands on me, anyway? I
know
I’ve never seen him before. He is not the sort of thing a girl forgets.

She figured that last thought qualified her for an MU degree—Master of Understatement. The man looked like sin walking. Easily over six feet tall, probably six-two or six-three, his impressive muscles were even more intimidating up close. His thick, dark hair looked black in the dim light and fell in unruly waves over his forehead. He needed a cut, and she might just decide to get a styling license to have an excuse to run her fingers through that hair.

His eyes, so dark they appeared black, laughed down at her, though his luscious, chiseled lips remained firm in his granite-hewn face.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he tightened the hand on her hip just a little, enough to distract her from what she’d been about to say.

 
“I had hoped you would allow me to buy you a drink,” the dark voice rumbled again, and Reggie saw Mr. YumYum had a look of amusement in his black, bedroom eyes. Amusement and something more. Under the glint of humor, his eyes were watchful and intense and blazing with heat. Reggie did not consider herself the type of girl who let strange men pick her up in bars. Still, she had enough sense to regret that while she stared up at him and unthinkingly licked her lips.

The stranger’s eyes blazed hotter, and his hand on her stomach shifted to bring her closer. The action managed to snap Reggie out of her daze.

She scrambled to regain her equilibrium—something she’d never had a problem with before Tall, Dark and Sinful had shown up—and turned to face him. “I never let strange men buy me drinks. You never know which one might be the next Jack the Ripper.”

His mouth quirked up at one corner. “I promise I have no fondness for dark alleys, nor for prostitutes. But if it would make you feel better, you may buy me a drink instead.”

She thought that might prove to be just as dangerous. “Um, I suppose I should thank you for the offer, Mr…whoever you are, but I don’t think so.”

She attempted to step back, to reinforce her words with some distance—a buffer zone against his enormous sex appeal—but the stranger held on tight and merely smiled at her.

“Dmitri.” He murmured, that wickedly amused look she’d noticed earlier back on his face. “My name is Dmitri Vidâme. And you have not, really.”

“Not what?”

“Thanked me.”

It took a struggle, but Reggie managed to overcome her desire to melt at the sight of his sexy, mischievous smile and forced her eyes to roll instead. “For offering to ‘let’ me buy you a drink? That’s not the sort of offer that inspires me to thank you by inviting you back to my place and showing you my gratitude naked.”

Dmitri chuckled, a rough, rumbling sound that rasped over her senses like the tongue of a great big cat. “I had not thought you should. I was merely giving you the opportunity to voice your thanks in the conventional manner. But if you prefer to do this while naked—” His eyebrows shot up, and his grin deepened. “—it would be rude of me to gainsay you, no?”

Reggie blushed. Even though she’d brought up the whole naked thing, somehow the idea sounded a lot more wicked on his lips than it ever had on hers. She cleared her throat and again tried to step back. Again his hand tightened on her belly, but this time it was joined by its mate. Both hands slid over the warm silk of her corset and settled possessively on her hips. He drew her even closer. Reggie looked down to see somehow she’d been led without her notice. Dmitri had backed up until he sat at the bar again, and he pulled her to him until she stood between his spread legs, close enough to smell the earthy, spicy scent of him. She took a deep, involuntary breath, savoring his fragrance, until his chuckle broke the spell, and her eyes snapped open.

She hadn’t even realized they were closed.

“Look, Mr. Vidâme, why don’t I go back to my friends and you can go back to your friend.” She blurted out the suggestion, which just showed her nerves had gotten out of control. This man could easily turn her into a babbling idiot…if it wasn’t already too late. “I saw him talking to you earlier—”

 
“Misha.”

“—and I’m sure the two of you had plans for…huh?” She stopped, the gorgeous friend forgotten.

“You will not call me Mr. Vidâme, Regina,” he instructed. “You will call me Dmitri, at the very least. Though I would prefer you call me Misha. It is a nickname. A term of endearment.”

He said it as if he wanted to become dear to her.

Reggie shook her head to clear out the cobwebs she could feel forming. “Wait. How did you know my name? You couldn’t have heard my friends over the music.”

“Actually, I have exceptional hearing, but your friends only called you by that horrid nickname. Reggie is a name for a man, not for one as beautiful as you.” His eyes roamed over her in frank appreciation. “Nor so obviously a woman.”

Reggie blushed at his compliment, which only made her madder. “Don’t try and sweet talk me, buster. I’ve had enough of that kind of crap. In fact, I’ve had enough of this conversation. Now take your hands off me.”

Dmitri raised an eyebrow and lifted his hands from her hips, holding his palms up so she could see they no longer restrained her. “You are always free to go, Regina. If that is truly your wish.”

She didn’t trust the velvet purr in his voice, nor the amused expression on his face. She took a step backward.

Or, to be precise, she
tried
to take a step backward. She pictured herself taking a step backward. She could practically feel the impulse running down the nerve endings from her brain to her legs, but her feet remained stubbornly motionless. Since she’d already shifted her weight backward in anticipation of that step, she nearly fell on her ass. She teetered for a moment, on the verge of an embarrassing thump, and reached out to steady herself. Instead of catching the cool wood of the bar, her hands caught the solid warmth of Dmitri’s thighs, encased in soft, black denim. As soon as she steadied herself, she snatched her hands back as if they burned.

They only tingled.

“What the hell is going on?”

Dmitri shrugged. “I did as you asked,
dushka
. I have taken my hands off you. I have told you that you are free to go.” He leaned closer to her until she could feel his breath brush her skin. “You must not want to leave me.”

“Bullshit,” Reggie said, trying to cover her growing unease. “You’ve done something to me, and I want to know what the hell it is. No, actually, I don’t care what you’re doing, I just want you to stop it and let me go.”

She braced her hands against his legs and pushed, but her feet remained stubbornly glued to the floor. Dmitri leaned forward, and she turned her head, straining to get away. One large, masculine hand touched her hip and trailed up her side, skirting the outside of her breast until it closed over her chin, gently but firmly turning her back to face him. He forced her eyes to meet his, capturing her gaze and holding it as surely as he held her feet in place. Which she knew he was doing. Somehow.

“Do you really?” he murmured, nuzzling her cheek so his hint of stubble rasped against her skin. His other hand slid around her hip to rest in the small of her back and press her closer. His thighs tightened, and he surrounded her, held her caged and confined and unable to escape. She couldn’t even tear her gaze from his. His dark eyes restrained her as securely as his hands drew her deeper, until she wondered if it would be so bad to drown in those glittering, black pools.

Do you really want me to leave you?

Helpless, seduced, she felt her head slowly shake from side to side.
No.

Dmitri smiled again, but this time the expression appeared dangerous and male and predatory, rather than amused.
I thought not. You want to belong to me, Regina, as much as I want you to be mine.

His voice rumbled over her, around her, until it was the only thing in her universe, the only thing other than his hands and his skin and his dark, dark eyes. Yet even as he spoke to her, she could see the play of desire and satisfaction on his lips. Lips that never moved.

Reggie froze, her eyes going wide, her lips parting, and her breath grinding to a halt. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, still unable to move, but equally unable to believe she had heard this man speaking to her inside her head, had felt him holding her in place even when he ceased to touch her. “Who are you?”

His hand slid from her chin to cup her face, his fingers tangling in the soft silk of her hair. And still his eyes held hers, keeping her still and enthralled.
I have told you,
dushka,
I am Dmitri Vidâme. And I will be your lover.

* * * * *

Reggie couldn’t remember their last few minutes at the bar, but she remembered the feel of Dmitri’s palm on the bare skin between her shoulder blades. She didn’t remember saying goodbye to her friends, or paying for her drink, but she remembered his hands on her waist while he walked behind her and guided her through the crowd to the front door.

She didn’t remember the cab ride home, but she remembered the steely strength of Dmitri’s thighs beneath her as she sat on his lap and rested her head on his firm shoulder. She remembered his fingers cupping her breasts through the heavy silk of her corset, his thumbs making teasing swipes over her tight nipples. She remembered one of those incredible hands drifting over her stomach and cupping possessively over her pussy, making the flesh tingle and throb beneath her leather pants, but she didn’t remember leaving the cab and entering her apartment building.

Her memory neglected to store the ride in the elevator up to her floor, or the long walk down the empty corridor to her apartment, but she would never forget the silent, overwhelming presence of the man who walked beside her.

She couldn’t recall unlocking her door, but she remembered the feel of Dmitri’s body, the heat of him when he crowded close behind her, urging her into the dark room and closing the door behind them.

She remembered nothing until he flipped the switch on her bedside lamp and her consciousness turned on as well. She came back to herself in a flash and found herself standing in the middle of her bedroom with her nipples hard and her pussy aching and the hot, dark depths of his eyes threatening to swallow her whole.

“Oh my god,” she said, taking a frightened step back. A surge of adrenaline made her tremble, and she locked her knees to keep from falling. “What are you doing to me?”

“Only as you wish,
dushka
,” he murmured, prowling toward her in the dim light. “Only what pleases you.”

She retreated from him, shaking her head. “You can’t be real.
This
can’t be real. I must have made you up, because no one could possibly do what you’re doing to me.”

“What am I doing to you, Regina?”