Page 24 of Fixation

ANDERSON

I meant it when I told Harper she was being discharged.

As of today, I’m not her doctor anymore. As of today, I’m just hers.

What a fucking relief. What a breath of fresh air.

For the first time in forever, I don’t see myself as a hitman. As a surgeon.

My fingertips don’t itch to make incisions, suture, and heal.

I’m perfectly content massaging shampoo into Harper’s hair.

But good things never last. Especially for me.

And in that split second where I don’t watch myself, a memory assaults me.

The smell, the sounds, the house I’ve been transported to—I know where I am before the flashback even starts.

Anton. He was my first hit job. A burly man in his sixties who lived in one of those rich people’s buildings overlooking Central Park.

He’d made the deadly mistake of outranking Sergey in the Bratva.

And I was there.

Without guns or knives.

With serums that I’d curated from my father’s formulas.

Throughout my entire life, I was led to believe that he’s a good man. A man who was passionate about science and his wife.

Only when he died did I find his notebooks. His secrets, written in his messy handwriting.

He hadn’t been fired from his teaching job because the Dean had favored his brother-in-law. Dad had been fired for fucking a student.

I would’ve been willing to look past that. I loved my mom. I hated that he’d done that to her. But cheating wasn’t as bad as murder.

That—seeing his excited notes for poisonous serums—was unforgivable. It sickened me.

Actually having to do that myself raised one wave of hatred after the other.

When I let myself into Anton’s luxurious home, I expected questions from him. Confusion.

Why me? Who the fuck are you?

As soon as I walked through the foyer, as soon as my beat-up sneakers thumped on the black and gold marble floors of his living room, I was greeted with a gun in my face. A gold revolver and a click .

My heart raced a million miles a minute. Sweat soaked through the back of my T-shirt.

“You fucked up, coming in here,” he said in an accent thicker than Sergey’s. He moved in closer, his breath rancid. “I don’t know who sent you, but ? —”

On the inside, I was shaking. On the outside, I was as cool and murderous as I had to be. My mom was still on my mind back then. I was goddamn eighteen.

My hand was around his wrist. The syringe was aimed between his fingers.

The needle sank neatly into his flesh, where no one would think of searching. The serum I found in Dad’s study had an immediate effect on my victim. Faster than I thought possible.

Bang.

Anton was done.

Nothing but a pile of meat on the floor.

He was an evil man. Sold drugs and girls and whatever else the fuck was wrong with this world.

Bile climbed up my throat regardless. So did hate.

Then…life went on.

Mundane. Repulsive. A sad existence.

Until Harper.

After this shower, I’ll have to let my girl go.

But before I send her off to start the second part of our games, while she’s here, I have her. I’m going to soak up every second with Harper.

At my silence, her brow furrows and her eyes speak to me.

I want to hear her. More than anything. “You’ve got something on your mind, Miss Arlington?”

She wants me, leaning into my hands that rub shampoo into her hair.

“I do.” She blinks, letting drops of water cascade down her cheeks. “You’re giving me that look.”

“What look?” I don’t know about my eyes, but other parts of me are awake.

I’m painfully hard. Throbbing.

No textbook or research has ever shed light on how erotic tending to her would be.

“That intense look.” Her cheeks redden. This isn’t the fever tainting her skin. She’s fine. She’s blushing. And I’ll need to let her go. Temporarily. I can’t wait to play with her. Then have her back. “Like you’re going to do something. To me.”

“Well, I am doing something to you.”

Playing dumb, it’s a choice. I have an excellent idea of what she’s talking about.

I’m already planning what I’ll do to her if she won’t return to me willingly.

If she won’t be back before my patience snaps, I’m stripping her of her options.

I’m taking her.

With my arms around her body, while her legs kick, and screams rise in her throat.

“You’re washing me.” The corners of her mouth tip up. “After you…” She presses her lips together.

Aching to hear these words, I arch an eyebrow.

“After you fucked me.”

Violated me. Raped me. Forced me.

She doesn’t use any of these words.

Fucked me.

Yes, I was right. She wanted it.

She wants me.

“Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty girl.” The blood in my body rushes south. I can’t have it. I focus on her, on getting this shower right. “Eyes closed.”

She complies without arguing, letting me rinse the suds out.

The back of her head, where her muscles are the tightest, that’s where I spend more time.

Harper’s groan has a way of messing with my sanity. Every part of me works hard not to fuck every one of her holes.

“Seriously.” Her demand pulls me back to the present moment. “What was that look? What’s this? This…shower?”

“What I’m doing is taking care of you before you leave.” I brush her hair behind her back, squeezing her brand of conditioner into my palm. “I’m here to help you. You’ve been lying in bed for over four days.”

Reaching behind her to massage the conditioner into her long hair is as sensual as being inside her pussy. Her nipples graze my chest as her breath tickles my collarbone.

I ignore it.

As much as any obsessed man could.

“Is that what this is?” Her voice has a small lilt to it. “Just you taking care of me? As a patient?”

She’s a confident, successful woman.

Yet a few days with me and she’s turned timid.

She’s begging for more of me in that sweet way of hers.

“Sending you home to shower by yourself would’ve been reckless.” I’m surprised by how calm I manage to sound. “Your blood pressure could’ve dropped. You could’ve passed out. Consider this your last checkup before I let you leave.”

While she thinks about what I said with her eyes closed, I soap the rest of her body. One of my arms remains firm around her waist as I explore her skin with my fingers, not the washcloth.

Her lovely collarbone, her slender shoulders. These breasts that fit into my palm.

Harper wakes for me, goosebumps prickling her sensitive skin wherever I touch.

Breathing, thinking, and concentrating are a hardship.

I’m addicted to her responsive body. The seductive curves of hers.

Mesmerized, I run my fingertips over her waist. Treasuring her hips.

I’m getting off on the sound of her breath hitching. My cock presses into her stomach, jerking against it.

I pull back, and precum wet the head of my throbbing length when she huffs in frustration. I’m aching all over when she’s quick to grab my shoulders with one hand.

Arousal bleeds from her eyes once mine are back on her face.

She says nothing.

Neither do I.

My hand rubs cool soap on her ass, making her whimper. Making her shudder at the feel of our bodies pressed together.

I want her like a dying man wants time.

“Okay.” She strokes my shoulder, and my broken soul reaches out to her. “Let’s say then, for argument’s sake…”

“Go on.” I put some space between us so I can slide two fingers in her cunt. So I can stroke and take care of her.

Her clenching thighs make it hard to focus.

I make do. I have to claw my way into her head. Her psyche. Ruin her for all other men. Put her back together in a way she might not want, but need.

When she’s quiet, I drag my fingers out of her.

“What?” Surprise flashes over her features. “Why?”

“You’re clean.” My hands are back on her arms.

“Anderson.” Her cute nose twitches. The shade of red on her cheeks is the darkest it’s ever been. “I didn’t mean it that way. You…”

She can do better than what and why . I know she can.

She fought and cursed me in the basement.

I won’t let it end today. Won’t let her wild side die.

She needs that.

I need that. I’ll show her that she can be as pissed off, wild and furious as she likes around me.

Or anywhere. She could never be too much.

Truth is, I’ll never get enough of her.

Good thing I have my methods. I’ll use each and every one of them to drag the dark and unhinged side out of Harper.

The thought of driving her mad enough that she unravels almost coaxes a groan out of me.

“You started saying You .” My hands go to the sides of her neck. “I believe it was the beginning of a question.”

“Yes.” She nods and sucks in a breath. “You don’t want to touch me like that anymore?”

The embarrassment from begging me overwhelms her, so she tries to take a step back.

I hold her right where she is, waiting for more of her words.

“You’re done?” She gives them to me. “That’s it?”

Ah, more begging. Literal begging now.

With the way she is now, I have the ultimate control over her body.

I could have her here, up against the wall of the shower. On the floor. On her knees with the showerhead between her thighs as she gags and moans around my cock.

She’d let me.

It won’t be worth a damn thing without controlling her mind.

Patience.

“That wasn’t your question, I think. I’ll answer it anyway.

” I tug on the showerhead, spraying water over the back of her body.

Her front. Between her legs. I pretend she isn’t whimpering or leaning toward me.

“Like I mentioned in the basement, you’re being discharged today.

I’ll be heading to work after we eat breakfast. You’ll get to go home. ”

I don’t say a word about how badly I need to be inside her. I’m maddened by it. By the need to touch her. Lick, kiss, and bite her everywhere.

“I won’t come back; I hope you realize that.” A pause. I’m being tested, and it’s fucking cute. “I might take an Uber from here straight downtown. A SWAT team will be swarming this place after I tell them what you’ve done to me. They’ll lock you up.”

“We both know you won’t.” Her eyes go wide when I wind my fist in her hair and tug.

“We do?”