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Mia grabs my wrist and pulls me into her office.
“I need to gear up,” I protest half-heartedly.
Once we’re in her office, she closes the door and presses me against it. Her mouth seals to mine a second later.
In an instant, she whisks me away to paradise. A place where there are no worries. No fears. No dread.
Only us.
I’m not a son, a caregiver, or even an operator.
I’m just a man.
A man obsessed with this feisty ginger goddess.
Her scent assaults me when her lips glide passionately against mine. I enjoyed taking charge of her earlier tonight— and if you tell anyone I loved it, I’ll deny it— but I like it when she takes what she wants too. The way she did that first night, leading me into the alley and yanking me toward her.
With my back to the wall, my hands find their way around her waist and pull her lower body closer to mine. She eagerly obliges, all but plastering us together.
Her mouth is insistent and demanding. She tastes decadent. Kissing her is like savoring the perfect pie filling.
I’d never tell her that, though, because I hear how ridiculous it sounds. But I fucking love pie. And I love kissing Mia.
My sense of duty clears the fog. Unfortunately, this isn’t the time for infinity kissing, no matter how much I wish it were.
Right when I’m about to break the kiss, she moans into my mouth, surging my dick to life for the umpteenth time today. My flaccid-to-erect ratio is so freaking far out of whack.
I indulge for a few precious seconds longer, reveling in our connection. No clue how she does it, but she soothes my soul while stoking the fire inside me.
Reluctantly, I break away from her supple lips and push her back with my palm softly nudging her shoulder.
She holds my stare as our shaky breaths fill the air. I know I need to move. It’s mission time.
But my feet are rooted in place, and my hands refuse to leave her body.
A powerful feeling rings deep in my bones, but I can’t quite decipher it. All I know is I crave it more every second I’m with her.
“Be careful out there.” Her voice is an airy whisper.
“Don’t worry, tiger. I’ll be fine.”
She wipes my lips with her thumb, presumably cleaning off her lipstick. I return the favor, making sure she’s presentable.
A memory flashes behind my eyes, startling me. It’s of my dad wiping my mother’s mouth this same way after kissing her.
Rivulets of warmth spiral in my chest.
I’m no stranger to kissing a woman wearing lipstick, and I’ve wiped their lips clean like this before.
But it’s never brought forth that memory of my parents.
Focus, pal. It’s mission time.
Her hands return to my shoulders, and she cups the back of my neck. “I know you’re equipped to handle this, but you seem distracted tonight.”
She’s right. I’m unsettled.
This is my first op since my mom wandered off, and I won’t be able to check on her until morning since this op will likely be an all-nighter.
