Fixer for the Billionaire: A Spicy Billionaire Romantic Comedy (Seattle's Anderson Family)

Chapter 12

CARMINA

The dim glow from my phone lights up my face as I escape to the quiet of the rooftop terrace, leaving the loud party behind. It”s off-limits tonight because of construction, but here I am.

My heels click against the concrete, breaking the silence. I take a deep breath, savoring the cool night air, before walking over to the edge.

Leaning on the railing, I look out at the city lights. Moments like this make me feel tiny, almost invisible, against the backdrop of the vast city.

But then, my chaotic life snaps back into focus. Pretending I”ve got it all figured out, I shoot a message to Freddie.

How’re you guys holding up? Everyone still in one piece? ??

Instantly, Freddie hits back with a bunch of laughing emojis and a flood of texts.

Gabi and Val are prepping for some ”quality” family time with The Exorcist ????

Their idea!

Something about Quentin”s influence??

I’m trying to make sure the jump-scares don’t ensure that half our popcorn ends up on the floor

I laugh, though part of me questions if a demon possession flick counts as ”quality” family time. Before I dive too deep, Freddie”s next text arrives.

Thought it’d be a good distraction. Ended up chatting about Val”s nut allergies. And some bad experience with you guys’ mom?

My smile dims. I reply.

Val had an “incident” before at my Mom’s house once

But hey, fictional serial killers beat her experimenting with homemade rocket fuel

She WHAT?

Never mind about the rocket stuff

As for my Mom…

Let”s just say she knows how to cause a scene.

Heard a bit about that...

Freddie sends a hug ?? emoji, nudging me to share more.

The truth is: It was just Classic Mom

Skipped town with a new boyfriend and took off on the girls. Per usual

I hesitate, still typing.

And while she was gone/out, Carmina had a nasty allergy attack. Not the first time. That”s why I”m so glued to my phone around Gabi and Val

There”s a pause. Then Freddie texts.

You”re killing it, Car. The girls are lucky.

I smile a little, feeling the night”s chill.

Thanks, Freddie.

It”s a mess, but we get by.

You saying that helps, but...yeah. It”s been hard. Just don”t want them feeling alone

I may be reading too many Danity Dandridge novels.

But if it’s one thing I’ve learned from her heroines, it’s this…

Women can do anything ????

Okay, you are the ultimate BOSS, and you totally got this

A moment later, another text from Freddie pops up.

And even if you don”t ”got this,” you”re never alone. Me, Jenny, Alton, Quentin—we”re all here for you

Always

Just a reminder.

Alright. Time to call it quits

It’s movie time ??

Tell Quentin thanks for the recommendation if you see him. And don”t worry, I’m getting the popcorn ?? situation under control

I smile, re-reading Freddie”s words, wishing I could believe them. But with my parents, I”ve learned not to rely too much on others.

It doesn”t help my sisters to know that they can’t rely on others, either. So, I keep that truth locked away, deep in my mind, and toss the key.

Leaning against the terrace, overlooking the Seattle night, I close my eyes and double-lock that box in my mind at the sound of footsteps.

I”m startled, then face-to-face with steady green eyes. Quentin. He looks stunning in his dark tuxedo, his sandy-golden hair a bit messy from dancing with his lovely brunette date, no doubt.

The image of them together sears through my mind, and I turn away, hoping he doesn”t see the flush on my neck.

Breathing deeply, I stand next to him at the railing, the old metal groaning slightly.

”Beautiful night, isn”t it?” he breaks the silence.

I nod, words failing me.

”You good out here?” his voice soft.

”I”m great. Just needed some air,” I lie, avoiding his gaze.

He smirks at the construction debris around us. ”Nothing like the smell of wet concrete to clear your head.”

”Hey, I like that smell. It”s...earthy.”

He chuckles and leans in. ”Yeah, I guess it is.”

We fall into silence. After a minute, I ask, ”What brings Mr. Popular out here?”

”Needed a break from the dancing and socializing. Can”t exactly break dance in a tux.” He sighs. ”Plus, the view”s amazing.”

We gaze at the twinkling city skyline, a breathtaking sight of North Seattle.

”Yeah, I forget this view exists,” I whisper.

”Me too. Wish I could do this more often...”

”Do what?”

”Escape. Just be alone with my thoughts.”

”Hard to do when you”re always with someone.”

”Me? Nah.”

I glance at him. ”Really? Because that woman you came with seemed like more than a friend.”

He leans back, looking at me. ”Delilah? She”s just a friend. The best at fixing copiers in the Pacific Northwest.”

I laugh without humor. ”Delilah, the one who flirted instead of fixing copiers at Hare Holeton. A real keeper.”

He grins, the darkness softening his features. ”Sorry to disappoint, but no copier repair babies in our future.” He pauses. ”And speaking of couples, looks like you”re in one.”

I turn to him, feeling vulnerable. ”What do you mean?”

”Sanchez, I”m not blind. Something”s up with you and Alex, that ER doctor. He”s the one donating clothes to your wet colleagues, right?”

”First, Alex and I aren”t a couple. He”s a friend. And you don”t know him well enough to judge.”

”I do.” Quentin”s tone changes. ”The guy”s a moron.”

”Excuse me?”

”You heard me. He breaks up with you, then shows up here pretending nothing happened. And you”re okay with that?”

Heat rises to my cheeks as I struggle to remain calm. ”You don”t know anything about him. Or me, for that matter.”

”Don”t I know, though? I can always tell when someone”s playing someone else.” He steps closer, gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that”s almost tangible. ”And I do know you, Sanchez.”

His eyes trace a path to my lips then back, leaving a sizzling trail.

”Like that defiant tilt of your chin when you”re ticked off, or that finger-tapping you do when you”re deep in thought—probably dreaming up the next big food fusion.” He chuckles, shaking his head. ”And those Monday night escapes with Jenny’s knitting crew? You”ve got an endless supply of dry red—Cabernet, specifically. Plus, enough coffee to keep an army awake.” He pauses, a playful smirk forming. ”Oh, and your taste in music? Straight from the ”90s West Coast. Pumping Too Short, E-40, then switching it up to Snoop and Dre when you”re grinding. You”ve even got a ”Gangsta Grillz” playlist on Spotify.”

He edges closer, and my throat goes dry. ”And... I know how sweet your lips taste, how soft your skin feels. How you move in ways that leave my head spinning and my heart pumping.” His voice drops, a whisper carrying a weight of intimacy. ”I know because I”ve been there, felt it.”

He inches nearer, our bodies almost merging. ”So don”t tell me I don’t know you, Sanchez. Because I do.” His breath fans over me, stirring memories and desires I thought I”d locked away.

My breath catches in my throat as his words wash over me, stirring up memories and desires that I thought I had buried long ago.

His lips brush against mine in a feather-light touch that sends goosebumps down my body. ”And I also know that even when you hate me, even when I annoy the ever-loving crap out of you, there”s a part of you that still wants me. That still remembers what we did on that company retreat three years ago. How it felt to have my mouth between your legs.”

The air between us crackles, filled with unsaid words and stifled desires. He whispers, lips barely touching mine, reigniting every buried feeling.

”I know all this because I can”t forget. Every time I’m near you, it’s not just anger I feel, but something more. Something that says this tension between us is because I can’t goddamned stay away.”

Hearing him admit it unravels something inside me—a mix of longing and frustration that”s been simmering.

I let out a shaky breath as Quentin”s soft, minty breath tickles my lips before he presses them against mine. My heart races, and I exhale shakily as his kiss deepens, my arms winding around his neck. We lose ourselves to the moment, our movements speaking volumes.

No more words needed. Our bodies say everything all at once.

Quentin”s right. He”s right about it all.

Even when I do hate him, even when he drives me up a wall and makes me question my own sanity, there”s a part of me that yearns for him. A part of me that can”t resist the pull he has over me.

The heat between us explodes, our connection undeniable, each touch sparking electric currents.

I lose myself in the moment. In Quentin. Especially when he places a trail of kisses down my neck, igniting a fire that spreads through every inch of my skin.

Before I can register what”s happening, he drops to his knees and pulls me towards him, his lips leaving a trail of fire down my stomach. My breath hitches as he reaches his destination, a moan I don’t expect leaving my mouth.

Piercing green eyes stare up at me, a hungry glint flashing in them as Quentin lifts the red satin and sequins of my dress.

He stops.

”I”ll only keep going if you want me to.” An exhale. ”Do you want me to, Carmina?”

My heart”s racing as I try to collect my thoughts. Taking a deep breath, I nod, unable to even find the will to speak. He smirks, his hands wandering up my thigh, sending shivers down my spine.

”Good girl,” he whispers, his breath warming places it shouldn”t.

He looks up, fingers hooked over my lacy black underwear, sliding them down with a practiced ease. And when he takes me in his mouth, my mind blanks out.

It feels like being hit by lightning – intense, overwhelming. It”s hot, blinding, and completely shatters my composure. I”ve never felt more alive.

Alive because Quentin Anderson is thorough in everything he does. He”s thorough at aggravating me. He”s thorough at driving me insane.

But most of all, he”s thorough at eating me to within an inch of my life.

There is no inch of my pussy he doesn”t cover, doesn”t appreciate.

He licks and kisses it all, moving his mouth in circles and figure-eights that leave my heart dancing on my tongue. And between each touch, brush, and stroke, he talks to me, uttering unspeakable things that have me soaking my thighs.

Soaking his lips. Soaking his face.

”You”re irresistible, Carmina. A damn treat.”

”I could keep this up for hours, days even.”

”Hook your leg over my shoulder. Yeah, just like that. Let me see you.”

I do as he says, letting go of the need to always be strong, dependable, a locked box of unspoken desires.

My fingers tangle in his hair, especially when he pauses to say, ”Damn, you”re wet. Give me what I want, Carmina. Come like you”ve never come before.”

And I do.

I give him exactly what he asks for, as he requests. In this moment, with Quentin on his suit-covered knees, my slippery mound against his mouth, I want to give him everything. I want in to give into something that isn”t this constant need to be strong.

At his urging, I lose touch with reality. Eyes closed, head back, I let out a cry into the night.

Quentin doesn”t stop. He keeps going, drawing out my climax until I”m limp, clinging to him for dear life.

He laughs softly, kissing me gently before straightening my dress.

”God, Car. You”re always so responsive.” Standing up, he draws me into a kiss that lets me taste myself. ”Every bit of you is a delicacy. Remember that.”

His grin widens as he leans in, and I start to come down from my high. A flush spreads across my skin.

I step back, putting space between us.

”What”s wrong?” he asks, catching the change in my breath.

I shake my head, feeling the aftereffects intensify. ”I...we can”t do this, Quentin.”

He looks puzzled. ”And why”s that?”

”Because this is reckless. We”re here at your twin”s engagement party, remember? My best friend”s party?” I remind him.

Quentin”s expression changes. ”Since when do we follow rules?”

”That doesn”t mean we can ignore the consequences,” I counter.

He raises his chin defiantly. ”What if I don”t care about the consequences?”

I stare at him, heart pounding. ”Quentin, is this real for you, or just a game?”

He steps closer. ”You know I care about you. More than I should.”

I step back. ”Maybe that”s the problem. We”re always together. Planning this party, working on Danity”s release, the upcoming wedding... It”s too much.”

”I get it.”

”We need to figure out what ”this” is before we do something irreversible. You should... go find your date. And I need to find mine.”

Quentin frowns deeply. ”You can”t be serious.”

”I am,” I say, smoothing the front of my dress and stepping back. ”The wedding”s in five weeks. The joint bachelor-bachelorette weekend? Only two. Everything”s rushing by. And I...” I lock eyes with him, but he”s unmoved. ”Just give me a few days to get my head around it all, okay?”

On the terrace, under the moon”s warm glow and the vast open sky, the silence between Quentin and me is thunderous.

He scrutinizes my face for what feels like forever before nodding. ”Alright. I can handle that. But the bachelor and bachelorette weekend? That”s in, what, two weeks?”

”I know that.”

”Great. So, you”ve got fourteen days to figure out what you want, Sanchez.”

I stiffen, crossing my arms. ”And what about you, Quentin? What do you want?”

His jaw tightens as he meets my gaze. ”I want to fuck you into another dimension, darling.” With that, he places my black underwear into my palm and turns, his shoulders cutting through the air as he makes for the stairs. ”Eleven days. I”m serious.”

He disappears back into the party”s soft lights, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

The moment he”s gone, I let out a breath that reaches the soles of my feet. I glance at the sky, half-expecting the moon to cool the lingering heat Quentin”s words left on my skin.