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“I have nothing right now.” And business to sort out, for which I need to be on my A-game. “Let’s talk about it later.” I slip a hand onto her cheek, needing one more feel, one more kiss. Her wet hair tickles the back of my hand.
“Later?” she asks.
“Do you have plans?”
“Do you?”
“I might be killing a few men, but other than that, I’m all yours.”
She laughs, and it’s wholly inappropriate. But I’ll take it. I like making her laugh. “Call me,” she says, and then frowns.
“What’s up?”
“I smashed my phone.” She shakes her head. “Dropped it.”
“Speak to Otto. He’ll sort you out a new one. Ask him to load it with everyone’s numbers.” Most importantly, mine. I step into her, tilting her head back. “Kiss me.”
“Or else?”
I reach under the towel and grab her ass, and her eyes pop, the green greener, brighter. “Anyone would think you like me spanking you.” I raise a hand and bring it down in a stinger of a slap, knocking her into me. She grunts, her hands coming up and grabbing the lapels of my jacket as she peeks up at me and lifts on her toes, opening up, taking my tongue deep, sighing her happiness. “That’s better, gorgeous.”
“Call me by my name.”
“No.”
“Then I’ll have to think of a pet name for you.”
“Whatever you want.” I break away and slam a hard kiss on her cheek before walking away. “Just make sure it’s not daddy.” I cringe as Pearl bursts out laughing, but a knock on my door soon shuts her up. For fuck’s sake. I look back and indicate the bathroom, opening my bedroom door a fraction. “Doc?”
“Just checking up on you.”
I slip out.
“You look much better,” he says. “Did you have a good night’s sleep?”
I laugh under my breath as we start walking down the corridor toward the stairs. “Yeah. I was going to come see you.”
“Did you try the pills?”
“Not exactly.” I stop and look left and right, checking for company. How the fucking hell do I put this? Yes, Pearl can take the contraceptive pill, but that only protects her—us—from pregnancy. What about the endless times I’ve been . . . careless. Or maybe the condom’s split. “I need you to do something for me.”
“What?”
I shift, awkward as fuck. “Tests.”
“For what?”
Jesus, someone help me. “Things.”
“What things?”
“Fuck me, Doc. Read the room.”
He frowns, looking me up and down. “Ohhhh,” he breathes. “Tests.”
“Yes.” I exhale. “I just want to, you know, make sure everything is . . . clean.” Fuck, this is awkward.
“I’ll need a urine sample. Should probably take some blood if you want to be thorough.”
