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Her hands make quick work of opening my pants, and I’m inside her in the next breath, moving slow and steady with her body as we both devour each stroke, each kiss, and each second of this joining.
Because we came into this kitchen as two people dancing around something delicate. Not knowing if we’re going to come together or be at odds. This is different than any other time I’ve been with her. This is comfortable. This is going to become our new normal. I don’t have to rush; I don’t have to worry that I’m being too soft or too gentle. Because there’s always next time.
“Gage, where’s your knife?”
Something wicked inside me smirks.
Oh, yeah. She’s mine.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Emery
The last few weeks have been a blur. Meetings with the cops. Meetings with the board of directors. Meetings with funeral directors.
Conner had no family other than mine, and my mom was beside herself with grief. I stayed with her until after the funeral was behind us, giving us a few days together. I had to let the world fall away and leave Carina and Gage to whatever it is they’re going to do in the wake of this mess. Stan is still working to find Wes after the fake lead from his ex, who’s since gone missing.
Conner’s last words to me were a warning, and they’ve been repeating themselves over and over in my head. Since getting home, I’ve been drowning in whiskey and not wanting to come up for air. I know I can’t go on like this. Things need to change, and it’s what brought me back to the exquisite Dr. Glass, the hypnotherapist.
It’s my third session with her. Tonight, we’re dealing with my repressed memories, and a few of the harder memories I can’t stand to face, even though they’re very fresh and on the surface.
“You did great tonight, Emery. You’ve come a long way since the first time we met,” Dr. Glass says, and I smirk as I slip my suit jacket back on, one arm at a time.
“Well, it’s a lot of work, but I’ve got a good helper.” I smirk, and she steps into me, buttoning my suit before I get the chance to do it myself. This is the way it’s been with her and me for a couple of weeks now. She gives the subtlest of hints that she has an attraction to me, while I get caught staring down her blouse every chance that I get.
But she never gives tell she’s put off by the way she affects me. Even when I tried to help her reach something in a cabinet last week that she insisted she could reach, and her backside brushed against an obvious sign of my attraction to her.
I swore I felt the air between us tingle with glee, but I’m still raw with all that’s going on, so I'm trying to keep my head on straight.
“About that,” she says, swallowing obviously as I track her throat’s movement.
I quirk a brow.
“I think it would be best if you see my partner from here on out. Dr. White is just as skilled as I am, if not more. And he will give you great care.”
It’s the thing I’ve been dreading because I knew it was coming. I’m not an idiot. The brief interactions between us can’t happen. She could lose her career.
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Dr. Glass.” I step closer, and the air changes.
“You and I both know that’s a lie,” she murmurs, looking up at me with a sinful pout to her lips I can’t ignore.
“As you wish. But, if I’m his patient…”
She gets where my leading question is headed, and she swallows again. “It would still be wrong for you and me to…He’s still my partner, so…I think it will just make this easier, though. In the long run.”
I nod, thinking a few things over before speaking again. “Well, then, you’re both fired. I don’t need either of you. I’ll find a new office to visit.”
She steps backward. “What? Mr. Stanner, I didn’t mean to offend you, I just think you’ll be better suited to Dr. White, is all. You’re doing so well in treatment; you need to keep going.”
“And I will. Just not here. The next time I come here, I’ll be picking you up for dinner,” I say.
She opens and closes her mouth a few times, no words coming to her. “Well, I don’t think that will be appropriate.”
I turn and open the door. “Mark my words, Dr. Glass. You’ll be mine soon enough.”
I wink at her and then move out into the hall. I scold myself inwardly for the wink as I pull my keys from my pocket and slide into my car.
It feels good to drive myself, and it’s become something I’ve been doing more often. Giving Henry the night off to be with his family. Paid, of course.
