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The morning sun filters through the sheer curtains, casting a honey glow over our little slice of heaven, a world away from the cacophony of New York City. Our cozy home is hugged by the kind of serene landscapes that city billboards can only dream of selling. Here, in this nook outside the urban jungle, Doug and I have made a life that's as comforting as the worn-in leather of his favorite armchair.
"Morning, beautiful," Doug murmurs against my neck, his stubble grazing my skin in a way that sends shivers down to my toes.
"Hey, handsome." I lean into his embrace, feeling the solid wall of his chest pressed against my back. This man, with his short brown hair that's always just a tad too long, and a build that makes me feel like I'm cuddling with a living, breathing fortress, is my everything.
"Sleep okay?" he asks, voice still thick with sleep, an undercurrent of concern laced within the question. He knows me too well. Nightmares often have a fondness for my subconscious.
"Like a log," I lie, not wanting to add to his worries. It's a tiny sin, one I sometimes allow myself because the truth is, I did sleep peacefully, eventually. His arms were my sanctuary after all.
"Good." Doug's lips press gently against my temple, his kiss a promise of safety, a silent vow that echoes the dedication I see in him every day. I tilt my head up, angling for his mouth, and find it with an eagerness that speaks volumes of our hunger for each other.
"Very good," I tease, our lips barely touching, electricity crackling between us in the scant space.
"Tease." He grins before claiming my lips with his own, and just like that, the world narrows down to the sensation of his mouth moving over mine, deliberate and deep. I thread my fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, eliciting a low groan from him that vibrates against my chest.
"Only for you," I whisper against his lips, and he responds with another kiss that's hotter, more insistent. His hand trails down the small of my back, settling on my hip, pulling me closer until there's no air left between us, only heat.
"God, Lori," he breathes out, voice strained with desire, "I could get lost in you."
"Then get lost," I challenge, pushing back against him, feeling the contours of his body aligning perfectly with mine. In this quiet morning, in our haven away from the city's madness, I am his, and he is unequivocally mine.
"Careful what you wish for," Doug teases.
He releases me and we both get ready for our day.
The clink of his badge against the fabric signals a new era for us. Doug is the embodiment of authority in his crisp uniform. His short brown hair is neatly combed, the strong lines of his jaw set in determination, and there's this unwavering glint in his deep-set eyes—a look that screams protector.
"Looking sharp, Officer McLean," I tease, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed, unable to suppress the smirk dancing on my lips.
He turns, flashing me that boyish grin that suggests trouble but promises safety. "You think so?" he asks, doing a slow turn that showcases the solid form beneath the uniform, a sight that sends a flutter through my chest.
"Definitely. The whole 'ready to serve and protect' vibe? It's working for you." My voice drops an octave, playful yet filled with genuine admiration. After all, his commitment isn't just about the job—it's personal. It's about us.
"Particularly you, Lori," he replies, closing the distance between us in two purposeful strides. His hands find my waist, pulling me into the sanctuary of his embrace. "Keeping you safe is my top priority."
"Good to know I have my very own security detail," I quip, standing on tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. But the moment is fleeting. Reality waits for no one, and we both have places to be. With one last squeeze, he releases me and heads out the door.
I'm left with the echo of his presence and the knowledge that while he's out there guarding the world, I’m safe.
* * *
The shop door chimes as another client steps in, their gaze sweeping over the array of sleek, high-tech devices lining the walls. I'm already moving forward, smile locked and loaded, confidence surging through me like a live wire.
"Welcome to SecureTech," I greet, extending a hand. "I'm Lori. How can I assist you today?"
Weaving between displays, I showcase our latest gadgets—the kind that make burglars think twice and give homeowners peace of mind. My pitch is smooth, honed by countless hours of practice, and it's not long before the client's skepticism gives way to interest, then to outright enthusiasm.
"See, this system here can be synced with your phone," I explain, tapping on the glass screen of a tablet that controls a demo model of a home security setup. "Real-time alerts, live video feed, you name it. If someone so much as sneezes near your front door, you'll know."
"Sounds impressive," the client acknowledges, and I can tell I've got them hooked.
"Trust me, it's more than just impressive. It's a game-changer." My voice carries the conviction of someone who believes in what they're selling, because I do. Every device here represents safety, a concept that's become more precious to me than ever before.
"Alright, let's do it," they decide, and the thrill of closing another sale never gets old.
"Fantastic choice," I beam, escorting them to the register. The transaction is smooth, the pleasantries genuine, and as they leave with a wave and a promise to recommend us to friends, I can't help but feel a surge of pride.
Doug is the one who suggested I’d be a good salesman, what with my smart mouth. I smile as I remember our conversation.
