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Mia’s pussy tightens around my fingers. We’re almost there.
“Are you ready to come for me, sugar?” I croon.
She nods against the mattress, her damp hair fanned out around her.
I press down on her clit and focus my fingers on the spot inside her that should detonate her like a damn bomb. “Come for me, sugar. Come all over my fingers,” I demand.
Her body tenses, but the orgasm doesn’t come. It’s like she’s in limbo, stuck right on the edge without a way to fall, and tears of frustration fall against her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” she sobs, bringing both hands up to cover her face. “I’m sorry.”
My heart bottoms out, and I’m moving before I consciously make the decision to do so. I pluck her off the mattress and hold her against my chest as tight as I can manage without hurting her.
Mia cries into my shoulder, and each tear that falls is another crack in my heart. I fucking hate this. I have no idea how to help her. No fucking clue what to do to make her believe she’s not broken.
I’ve never felt so lost.
She falls asleep like that in my arms, and it takes an hour of her gentle snores for me to finally put her down.
I watch her from the doorway for a few minutes, committing the rise and fall of her chest to memory, the way her nose twitches every so often in her dreams, before finally dragging myself from her room. She needs to rest, and the longer I spend watching her, the more tempted I’ll be to wake her.
I drop into my chair behind my computer and stare at the screens for a beat. I don’t know where to start. I’ve always buried myself in work, but that was when I only slept four hours a night and rarely left my apartment. Now I have another human to look after and spend time with. Not that I’m complaining. Having Mia back is better than anything I ever could have imagined, but I’m still figuring out how to juggle work and everything else.
I rub my face and start working on some shit for one of my harder-to-please clients. Nothing he ever wants is hard to dig up, but he’s impatient as hell and doesn’t like to be made to wait.
I scroll through pages of dirt I’ve dug up on one of his employees, a man he suspects is sleeping with his wife. High-profile men are hard to cheat on, and I don’t know what his gold-digging wife was thinking, fooling around behind the back of one of the richest men in the country.
I lose myself in the file, and it allows my thoughts to settle ever so slightly, as well as stopping me from checking on Mia every thirty seconds, which is what my body is screaming at me to do.
I chuckle when I read through the report the private investigator wrote and look over the photos he’s taken of the two of them. Oh yeah, this guy is fucked.
The fleeting joy I get from my work comes to an abrupt halt when I see Everett’s face light up my phone screen. If the last couple of weeks are anything to go by, nothing he has to say is going to be good.
“Hey.” I shove the phone between my shoulder and ear so I can keep working while he talks.
“I just wanted to call and give you an update from the center yesterday. Emerson spoke with the boy’s friends this morning, and they haven’t heard from him. They said that his dad has had a new friend over recently and that they thought he might be the culprit.”
I rub my eyes and sigh. The idea of Kyle anywhere near children makes my blood boil. He’s the scum of the earth, the type of man, if you can even call him that, that profits off the misfortune of others. “Any idea what this kid’s dad is into?”
“I’m looking into it, but I haven’t been able to find much.” It’s not uncommon for those who don’t work within the confines of the law to not have a lot of background. Usually, I love that shit. It’s like a puzzle for me to solve. But it’s different when it’s Mia’s safety on the line. “I’ll keep looking, but I just wanted to give you an update. How’s Mia?”
I open my mouth to respond, but I’m not sure how to answer the question. She’s doing okay considering she received a direct threat from the man responsible for years of torture, but the memory of her crying in my arms just a couple of hours ago has a lump building in my chest. “She’s doing as well as you could expect.”
“I know we’re not friends or whatever, but the guys and I have a lot of experience with women and children who have been through the kinds of things Mia has, and from what I saw at the wedding and what Rayne and Emerson told me about her time at the center, I think she’s going to be okay. It’ll take time, and there will be bumps in the road, but she’ll be okay.”
I choke on the emotion lodged in my throat and the man I was a few weeks ago would have shied away from this kind of conversation, but from him, I appreciate it. “Thanks, man. And thanks for all your help.”
“Of course. I’ll call if I find anything else.”
I drop the phone on the desk and drag my hands down my face. I hope he’s right. Because I don’t think I could handle losing her again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
MIA
My eyes are sore and my mouth is dry when I wake up, wrapped in more blankets than were on the bed last night.
I roll over, searching the bed for Ace, but he’s nowhere to be found.
