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You’d think my special private bathroom time would have reduced my desire for Mia enough to allow me to focus on my job.
Yet she’s all I can think about.
Her smell. Her taste. The way she gasps into my mouth when I claim her lips. Her moans. The feel of her tongue stroking mine. The way she gripped my cock for those precious few seconds. How she melted against me.
She’s becoming an obsession.
Kissing her was clearly a colossal mistake. It’s made me crave her even more, and I don’t know how I’ll be able to resist her after that. Especially knowing she wants me too.
But I still can’t make myself regret it.
Despite her not wanting to have a little naughty text time now, I suspect she may be willing to prove herself to me. I sure as hell hope so.
Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly what I meant by that asinine demand.Prove it? Earn me?What does that even mean?
In the abstract, sure, it makes sense. But how does that look in reality?
And am I up so high on the horse that I think it’s okay to go around barking out demands like that?
My father would be so disappointed in me, having always worshipped the ground my mother walks on.
I don’t know the first thing about punishing someone… sexually. Not the way I want to punish her.
Sure, I’ve been around the block enough to know that some people partake in sexual relationships involving physical consequences and even pain. But I’ve never dipped my toe in those waters. Where would I even begin?
My mind is a mash-up of lewd thoughts, none of which I know how to implement, and crippling judgment of myself for considering this.
The worst thing is, I legitimately don’t know what I want from her— other than her entire body. No clue what it’ll take for me to trust her again. A large part of me thinks it’s an impossible feat, so why bother encouraging her to try? It’ll only make the eventual demise more disappointing.
Rolling out my shoulders and neck, I shake off the jarring thoughts and return to the lair. They might need help with the case that drew Mia’s focus from our texting exchange. Perhaps something is heating up with the senator’s daughter, or it could be one of the CPD files she’s been evaluating. There were some cybercrimes and cold cases that CPD homicide was hoping Redleg could give fresh eyes.
My steps falter as I enter our shared workspace. “Where’s Mia? What’s she working on?”
Tomer’s head is down while his fingers speed across the keys. “Hasn’t come back yet.”
Hmm. I figured they’d be working together on the urgent situation.
“What’s the big news? Which case is going ass over tits now?”
The clacking from his keyboard ceases suddenly, and he cricks his neck to face me with his nose scrunched up tight. “What are you talking about?”
Lowering into my seat, I fling my thumb over my shoulder in the general direction of Mia’s office. “Mia said something urgent came up on a case.”
His eyes narrow to slits. “I thought you didn’t know where she was or what she was doing.”
“I didn’t. I don’t,” I stammer.
Nice job, sonny boy. Sounding like a real cad.
He studies me for three long, awkward seconds before returning his focus to his screen. “No clue what you’re talking about. She identified a suspect for those email threats on the senator’s daughter. Took her about four minutes. Far as I know, that’s it.”
“Huh.”
What the fuck was so important that she ended our chat so abruptly? My thoughts swirl, leaving me wondering if I’ve been lied to.
Once again.
“T, do you need me for anything specific right now, or can I continue setting up the Throwbot?”
