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“Joy,” I breathed against her ear, my voice cracking. “You’re everything. You’re absolutely everything.” The truth of it hit me as I said it. This woman had somehow become my whole world without me even realizing it.

I felt soft kisses against my neck, then she breathed my name against my throat. “Graham.” The way she said it was almost like a prayer.

I gently kissed her, but soon our desire spiked, and her channel clamped around my cock like a velvet vice, pulling me straight into oblivion. I felt her go first, her breathy cries mixing with mine as we came together, the heat, the sweat, the pleasure crashing over us like a goddamn tidal wave.

My hips jerked, the last of my release spilling into her as she trembled beneath me.

I groaned, pressing my forehead against hers, both of us trying to catch our breath. For a long time, neither of us spoke.

Joy started to giggle.

“What?”

“Told you, you needed to stop talking and get to work.” She smirked.

“Bullshit. You love it when I talk dirty.”

Her smirk turned into a soft smile. “Actually, Graham, I’ll tell you what I love.”

Looking down at Joy, her hair wild, skin glowing, and her eyes soft with trust and satisfaction and maybe something even deeper, I realized I was completely gone. She was it for me.

“What?” My heart stopped beating as I waited for her answer.

“I love making love with you… when can we do it again?”

The answer was simple; I never wanted to stop.

Chapter Fourteen

“Hey Joy, do you have a minute?” Roxie called out. “I have someone who needs some advice on adopting a kitten or a cat.”

It was music to my ears. I loved it when one of my babies could go to a loving home. I took a moment to look at the cages with our thirteen cats. The youngest one we had was four months old. The next youngest was about eight months old, and she had grown out of the kitten stage.

My eyes couldn’t help but turn to my favorite. He was an older tabby cat that came to us when his owner died. He was six years old and a love. His name was Rupert, and he could sit by himself for hours or sit in your lap and purr for hours as you pet him. For some reason, people always passed him by. They called him a ginger as if that was a bad thing.

After my dawdling, I hustled to the front of the clinic and found Roxie talking to a woman in her late thirties or early forties. She was pretty, but she’d be prettier if she didn’t wear her hair up in a tight bun and wear such baggy clothes.

“Joy,” Roxie smiled at me. “I want you to meet Glenda Pearson. She’s here to adopt a cat or a kitten. I was telling her that you were the one who knew all our pets the best.”

I walked around the reception desk and shook her hand. “It’s very nice to meet you, Ms. Pearson.”

“Oh, please call me Glenda.” When she smiled at me, I realized I was right. Her smile was great, she was pretty.

“Okay, Glenda. I would love to match you up with a pet.” I looked over at Roxie, who handed me the intake form. Roxie was always very thorough with the questions she asked. She wanted to make sure our animals went to good homes.

I frowned when I saw that Glenda often had to work long hours and didn’t get home until nine or ten in the evening.

“What? Is there something wrong with my form?” she asked. I inwardly winced. I’d totally screwed up by frowning.

“No, of course not,” I prevaricated. I didn’t want her to think that we didn’t like her. Everything else seemed great. She owned her own townhome, so she didn’t have to ask permission to have a pet. Glenda didn’t smoke. That was never a deal breaker. Roxie just made sure that she didn’t send an animal who had any kind of respiratory issue into the home of a smoker. Roxie was definitely protective.

“You said you wanted either a kitten or a cat. Do you really know which you would prefer?” I asked.

Glenda grimaced. “I guess I’m leaning toward a kitten. There’s just something about the idea of having a baby cat to love. I don’t have any kids.” She reached out and put her hand on my arm with a sisterly smile.

“A kitten needs a lot of attention to begin with, just like a baby. I see here that you work a lot of late hours. Is that likely to continue?”

Glenda nodded. “It’s definitely part of the job. I think that might have been part of the reason my boyfriend and I broke up last Saturday…” Her voice trailed off, and then she stared at me. “Wait a minute. Didn’t I see you at Louey’s last Saturday? Weren’t you singing?”