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“One day. For now, I have different plans for you but I need you to listen. I might’ve tipped that nurse well, but he’s only going to be able to buy us a few minutes. So up, on the bed and spread for me.”

I did exactly as told, spreading for him while wondering if I should have taken off my wet panties. “Was I supposed to be naked, Sir?”

“No. I told you just your jeans and I meant it. You did perfectly, sweetheart.” He leaned in and kissed each of my thighs, then grazed his teeth over the fabric. “But keep in mind ... neither of us are coming until we’re home alone again. Do you understand I’ll be edging you again here? Color?”

“Sir, I’m about to be fucking colorblind,” I joked, but one look at his face told me this wasn’t the time. “Sorry, Sir. Green, I understand.”

“Good girl. Thank you.”

He looped his arms under my thighs and pulled me closer to the edge, just enough to lift me slightly and drag his tongue over my soaked panties. “It’s fucking criminal that I haven’t tasted you yet, so I’m torturing myself here, too. Keep quiet for me, sweetheart.”

I felt his hot tongue again, the rush of hot air permeating the damp cotton and sending sinful little shivers racing up and down my body.

His mouth was a sinner’s heaven, and I was about five seconds away from begging him to kill me so I could live there permanently. “Ohfuck ... can you taste me now, Sir? Is it how you imagined?”

“Not enough,” he rushed out, dropping his forehead to my thigh and reaching down to grip his crotch. “God, I want to rip your fucking panties off right now and make you squirt all over my face.”

“Please, Sir,” I moaned, completely losing my train of thought to the pleasure but knowing I needed to elaborate when I focused on his face again. “Please make me wait.”

He bit me, gentle enough not to hurt but forcefully enough to make me twitch and gasp his name as he pulled back and pressed down on his crotch. “You’re going to be the death of me, Miss Bryce. But use the sink to clean up, and I’ll see you at home. Come directly to bed.”

I allowed myself to feel a moment of regret as I twitched from the loss. “Yes, Sir. You wouldn’t happen to have a Time Turner in your pocket, would you? I really, really need it to be time.”

“No.” He kissed me sweetly, wrapping his arms around me to hold me tightly. “Think about how you want your first orgasm. You’ve more than earned the right to choose.”

“Thank you,” I whispered into his chest, already missing him so badly I clung to him. I should have been embarrassed with how needy I felt in that moment, but Sterling didn’t judge ... I could feel it.

Sterling

I watched my dad breathe. He was awake, watching some program on that tiny hospital tv, but I was watching him. The occasional twitch in his fingers, the way his lips always seemed to be moving without his dentures in. The wisps of grey hair refusing to give way and just let him be bald. The blue eyes that reminded me of my own.

It was hard to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped looking like a soldier, like a t-ball coach. Like a loving, doting husband who wanted nothing more than to take his wife dancing and complain about it until he had her in his arms.

But he didn’t look like that at all anymore. He looked sad, scared, small. I hated it.

“Stop staring at me,” he mumbled. “Zeppelin got me h-hooked on Family Feud and you’re distracting me.”

“I’m just worried about you, and I won’t apologize for that,” I countered quietly.

“Worried I’ll what? I’m in the safest place I can be. I can’t move out of this bed just yet. You’re stressing yourself out when I’m clearly fine,” my father argued, but I refused to let him make me feel bad about it.

It was ridiculous. “The fact that you’re in a hospital at all means you’re not fine, but okay. I’ll stop staring at you.”

“Go home, Son.” His voice was smaller this time, sad almost. “You’ve fussed over me long enough.”

“No. You’re almost out of here, but we’re not leaving you alone. You shouldn’t have to be alone here.”

My father glared at me, which was a sight I wasn’t as used to seeing as I should’ve been. “You’ve got an hour before Zeppelin is due here, yes? By the time you make it home, you’ll have twenty minutes before she’d normally leave to get here. Go spend twenty minutes with her, or I’ll have security th-throw you out.”

There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he’d follow through, and I couldn’t deny that having twenty extra minutes with Zeppelin sounded appealing. I stood, knowing better than to argue, and kissed his forehead. “Next time she asks me why I’m grumpy, I’ll remind her I get it from you. I love you, Dad. See you tomorrow.”

He mumbled something under his breath back to me, but I grabbed my jacket and walked out without another word.

The whole ride home, I stressed about leaving him. The only thing that kept my mind clear was the knowledge that I’d get to hold her soon and when she finally got home, I’d have her to myself for eight straight hours. Eight hours alone to take her apart and put both of us back together.

Eight hours of heaven.

When I walked through the front door and entered the kitchen, I found her with a mouth full of Lucky Charms and wide-eyed like she was just caught stealing candy from a candy jar. Milk dripped down her chin as she stared at me in horror, the empty box on its side like she’d gone to town on the whole thing without any regret until she was seen. “Hi,” she mumbled.

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