by L A Witt
The first was a reminder of my upcoming eye exam. Thrilling. The second…
It was a picture of a large, fluffy gray cat with long tufts on the ends of its ears, eyes half closed in contentment, sitting on Mark’s legs. The message read I think she’s missed me.
Aw, so this was what his cat looked like! Damn, Harley was huge. It was a cute picture, and I smiled at it as I walked out of the hospital and headed for my car. Mark was probably asleep by now, but…
Not half as much as I have lately. Do I get cuddles too?
I sent the message, got into my car, then headed out onto the road. I was halfway home when my phone beeped.
I looked. I shouldn’t have, I was driving, and I didn’t have my hands-free system set up because I was horribly lazy about some things, but I still had to peek at it.
That depends. Are you going to come over to my house and sit on my lap?
My jaw dropped. This was by far the flirtiest text I’d ever gotten from Mark. Flirting didn’t seem to come easily to him. Being straightforward did, but I didn’t think he was ready to be quite this straightforward.
A second later another text came in. Sorry, that wasn’t actually an invitation. I have family business to attend to early in the morning and I need to be sharp for it.
Ooh, a fresh mention of his family. He hadn’t let anything slip other than the revelation of his father as a dirty cop since our first date, and I hadn’t wanted to push. Some things were better left unsaid, especially when you were just getting to know someone. Still…
That’s a shame. I could do things with a lap like that.
Fuck it, being flirty was definitely a part of my nature. And I was just pulling into my driveway, so I didn’t have to feel latent guilt over texting and driving anymore.
You’d have to fight Harley for it.
I was on the verge of making a joke about cat fights, but as I got out of my car and opened the door into my kitchen, it occurred to me that something had to be wrong with Mark. Not because he was texting me, we did that a lot these days, but because he was by nature an incredibly punctual and prepared guy. If he had something important to do in the morning, he should be sleeping right now. I tossed my keys down on the counter, sat at the kitchen table and stared at my phone for a moment. Should I do it? Would it be weird?
“You’re weird,” I muttered to myself, and finally hit the little glowing phone icon. One ring. Two rings. Three… This was a bad idea. Four—
“Hey.”
A breath of relief crept out of me as I sagged a little bit into the backrest of the chair. “Hi. Sorry if this is bad timing.”
“I didn’t have to pick up.”
“True, you didn’t.” I grinned. “You just wanted to hear the dulcet sound of my voice, didn’t you? You can admit it, it’s okay. I know I have a very soothing way of expressing myself.”
“So soothing,” he replied, completely deadpan. I laughed, leaning forward and resting my temple against my hand. “That’s definitely why I picked up,” he went on. “But why did you call in the first place?”
“Um.” Yay, time to admit to invasive thoughts. “I just wondered if you wanted to talk about anything. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to be awake when I texted you, and then…”
“I got chatty.”
“At ten after midnight, when you have things to do in the morning,” I finished gently. “You don’t have to tell me about it. I just wondered if there was something you’d like to get off your chest, that might… I don’t know, help you sleep better, maybe.”
God, I was bad at this. Flirting was one thing, but being earnest about anything personal was hard. I poured most of my empathy into my work, and for a long time that hadn’t left any room in my life for another serious demand on my emotions. Holding on to a relationship had definitely felt beyond me for a long time. It was easier to keep things surface level, to keep everyone who might have wanted more from me at arm’s length until they finally stopped expecting I’d change.
That had been my modus operandi for years, and thinking about it now—thinking about how many potential connections I’d squandered because I was, at heart, scared—made me tired of myself. I wasn’t going to do that with Mark. I wasn’t going to push, but I could be available. If that meant being a bit of an awkward idiot over the phone, then hopefully he’d forgive me for it.
“You really don’t have to tell me. I just wanted to offer,” I said quietly.
“It’s my dad.” He sounded as brisk about it as ever, but there was still something about the tenor of his voice that told me he wasn’t unaffected.
“You’re meeting with him tomorrow?” I asked after a few seconds had passed.
Mark snorted. “No. I make it a point not to meet with him, ever. But every once in a while he tries to force the issue to get me to talk to him again. For a while he changed his phone number every time he called. When I stopped picking up unknown numbers, he did the same thing with emails. His latest tactic is to sic his lawyer on me.”
My jaw dropped. “He’s not trying to sue you, is he?”
“No, nothing like that. He’s trying to bribe me, actually.” He laughed, but it sounded thin and brittle. “I suppose since he had such great results with bribery in the past, he figured it was worth another shot with me.”
“That’s ridiculous.” I didn’t know Mark all that well, and I could already see that trying to manipulate him like that was a terrible tactic. How could his own father not get that?
“He’s a ridiculous sort of person. I decided to take the meeting with his estate lawyer solely so I could have the pleasure of telling the woman to her face that I want any inheritance my father might be inclined to give me donated to the nearest no-kill animal shelter.”
“A worthy cause,” I agreed. “At least this doesn’t sound like it’ll take long.”
“Five minutes is too long, as far as I’m concerned,” Mark grumbled.
“At least then it’ll be done for a while.” I knew people like Mark’s father, people who used any and all leverage they could muster to exert control over the lives of others. I was uncomfortably reminded of my own grandparents, and turned my thoughts away—now wasn’t the time for them. “You said he had good results from this kind of thing before. Is that why… um…” How did I politely inquire about this next part?
Mark spared me the pain of figuring it out. “Is that why he was outed as a dirty cop? Yes. The investigation into him found that he’d taken bribes from organized crime and several local politicians. He also gave out a few bribes of his own, setting things up so he was involved in big operations, big cases. He was trying to build a name for himself, probably setting himself up for a run for office.” Mark heaved a sigh. “He always liked hearing the sound of his own name.”
In for a penny… “How was he caught?”
“Another cop turned him in. A young one, who’d just started working in the same precinct as my dad. He saw things weren’t right and he refused to stay quiet, even after being threatened. He compiled the evidence, took it to the right people, and got my dad and a few other guys arrested. They only served a combined total of seven years, thanks to a sympathetic judge, but at least they’re not cops anymore.”
“Wow.” I didn’t quite know what to say after all that, even though I was the one who’d solicited it. Should I come back with a revelation of my own? An apology that he’d had to endure finding out his father wasn’t the man he thought he was? I ended up going with, “That’s rough.”
I could almost hear him shrug. “It could be worse.” There was a pause, and I sensed that an important moment between us was about to slip away. “Well, I guess I should let you go—”
“The day I graduated from medical school, my grandparents sued me,” I blurted before he could finish his reason for why we should stop talking. I wasn’t ready to stop, not after everything we’d said already. I’d never told anyone outside of my family this, but it seemed like the right time to share, and h
e was the right person to share with. “For expenses related to when I lived with them as a child,” I went on. “Reimbursement, they said.”
“You’re… kidding.”
“Nope.” I wished I was. “They told me they’d go after my parents if I didn’t take care of it. They had all sorts of receipts, documentation… It looked very official, and my parents were practically destitute. There was no way they could have afforded a lawsuit.”
“That’s not legal,” Mark said with surety.
I laughed. “No, it’s not, thank God. My mother actually found out about it before I could do anything, and it’s the one and only time she’s ever stood up to her parents. She reamed them out, and in the end they gave it up. None of us have talked to them since.” They might be dead by now, for all I knew. I kind of hoped that was the case.
“Does it sound bad for me to say that I’m glad you’re estranged from them?”
“Not at all,” I said, relieved that Mark really got it. “Same to you. Life is too short to put up with people like that ruining it for you.”
“That can be our toast, whenever we get together next.”
“And when will that be, do you think?” I tried not to sound too eager, but that was definitely how I felt. Talking to Mark over the phone was a big step up from texting, but I was more than ready to spend some time with him in person.
He sighed. “Not tomorrow. Monday?”
I shook my head before remembering he couldn’t see me. “Not Monday, I’ve actually got an in-service training on the newest upgrades to our digital filing system. It’s going to last all fucking day. Tuesday?”
“I’ve got court on Wednesday, which means I’ll be prepping all day on Tuesday.”
And then Wednesday was court, which meant it was probably out too. I bit the inside of my cheek in disappointment, but forced myself to speak cheerfully. “We’ll work something out. Get some sleep, okay? You’ve got an animal shelter to enrich in the morning.”
Mark laughed. “Yeah, you too. Good night.”
“Good night.” He ended the call, and I stared at my phone for a minute before finally hauling myself to me feet and toward my bedroom.
It was going to be a long week.
I was pretty sure the wait would be worth it, though.
Chapter 5
Mark
At the risk of coming on too strong—how would you feel about skipping dinner?
I blinked, then reread Ryan’s message. It had been a solid week and a half since our last date, and we were finally closing in on an evening where we could see each other again. For the last several days, our plans had been evolving from dinner and drinks, to dinner, drinks, and maybe going someplace quiet, to kind of half-assing the conversation about dinner and drinks and using up all our data with suggestions about how to spend the rest of the night.
Now, with five hours and counting until we were supposed to meet somewhere—we hadn’t actually decided where—he’d cut right to the chase.
Staring at the message, I gulped.
Well, Mark. How do you feel about skipping dinner?
I shook myself and managed to write back: Your place or mine?
After I’d sent the text, my heart started racing even faster. I’d said that? Really? That had to be too direct. Too blunt. Painfully cliched.
My eyes drifted to Ryan’s text. Seriously? I was worried about being too blunt in response to At the risk of coming on too strong…?
Sighing, I sat back in my desk chair and rubbed my eyes. My mom had asked a couple of years ago when I was going to finally settle down with someone, and I’d joked that I just wasn’t very good at dating. Maybe I’d been closer to the truth than I’d realized. Which begged the question, how soon would I find a way to screw this up and—
My phone vibrated, and I sat up so fast I almost tumbled out of my chair as I snatched my phone off the desk. Heart in my throat, I read Ryan’s message:
Traffic is a bitch getting to my place. Yours, & I’ll pick up condoms/lube? ;)
I gulped. Ryan really wanted to come to my place later. Holy fuck. I… hadn’t screwed this up. Yet.
I wrote back, Here’s my address. See you tonight.
I couldn’t bring myself to add the winking emoji. A man had to have some standards.
I couldn’t sit still. I’d been restless all day, but at least I’d had work to keep me occupied, even if I hadn’t been as focused as I usually was. Good thing there was a lull between cases. Nothing needed my full attention the way they would if I were in the middle of an intense investigation. That could change at any moment, so I was going to enjoy the lull—and the headspace to fantasize about Ryan—for as long as it lasted.
Not that I’d need to fantasize much longer.
A text came from Ryan: Here. On my way up.
My whole body was suddenly tingling with adrenaline and nerves. I didn’t even know why I was nervous. Habit, maybe. Adrenaline, though? I fucking got that. I was wound up and ready to take whatever Ryan had brought, and I hoped he’d brought his A-game.
Footsteps in the hallway outside made me grin, and I opened the door, and for the first time in over a week, our eyes met.
Jesus.
He was everything I’d been lusting over and then some. All the hot and sexy he’d been at the restaurant, all the cute and sweet he’d been at breakfast, coupled with some super-charged lust gleaming in his eyes.
Bring it, doc.
Oh, he brought it—the door had barely clicked shut before Ryan hooked a finger in my belt, pulled me in close, and kissed me.
And the whole world seemed to stop on a dime.
That kiss in the restaurant had been full of promise, but this… holy shit. If he’d kissed me like this the other night, we’d have been escorted out for public indecency. Maybe not for the kiss itself, but for everything that would’ve come after.
“So you really don’t mind skipping dinner?” he murmured against my lips. “This isn’t—”
“Does it feel like I mind?” I pressed my hips against his. “If we’d gone to dinner, we’d have ended up fucking over a table.”
Ryan groaned, fingers digging into my shoulders as he claimed another kiss.
Jesus. I needed to get this man into my bed right the hell now, so I nudged him back a step, then started guiding him down the hall toward my bedroom. I gave a fleeting thought to whether my cat might wind up underfoot, but for as much as she could play the furry speedbump, she was usually good about getting out of the way.
And speaking of getting things out of the way…
Ryan’s jacket landed somewhere between the living room and the bedroom. Shoes followed. My belt came undone. Then his. We fumbled with buttons and cursed between kisses, but somehow or another, Ryan’s shirt came off and mine finally came open.
I broke the kiss and looked him up and down. God, yeah, he was even hotter when he was partially dressed and fully aroused. And tattoos had never been a kink of mine, but the glimpses of an abstract tattoo on his right pec and another on his left arm were intriguing. Eventually, I’d have to actually look close enough to see what they were. Maybe after we’d fucked a few times.
I was no stranger to sex these days, even if I didn’t have a lot of time for it, but it had been years since I’d been as turned on as I was right now. Still mostly dressed, pushed up against a wall halfway to my bedroom, with hot palms sliding under my shirt and an insistent tongue sliding alongside my own, I was dizzy and shaking and couldn’t get enough.
It was like our first date had been Ryan’s professional side—acceptable in mixed company, polite in public, perfectly respectable. Tonight, though, Mr. Hyde was coming out in the form of deep, hard kisses, groping hands, and sharp huffs of breath across my cheek.
“Do you have any idea,” I breathed, “how hard it’s been to concentrate at work?”
“Mmm, I think I have an idea, yeah.” He cradled the back of my head and kissed me again, deeper this time, before adding, “Pretty f
ucking good idea, actually.”
“That right?”
“Oh yeah.” Ryan’s hand slid down over my erection, and we both gasped. “Every second I’m not working on a patient? My mind has been right here.”
“Fuck,” I growled. “You did pick up those condoms and lube, right?”
“Uh-huh.” He brushed his lips over mine as he kneaded my cock through my pants. “Think we’re gonna need ‘em?”
“Are you kidding?” I kissed him again, deeper this time, and Ryan whimpered and shivered, which only made my knees weaker and my cock harder. At this rate, we were going to be breaking out the condoms and lube before we ever made it to someplace horizontal. As Ryan tugged my shirt free, I decided I was good with that. We could fuck right here on the floor for all I cared.
We took another stumbling step closer to my bed. I wanted to get my shirt and undershirt out of the way, but there was something hot about him sliding his hands underneath and dragging his palms and nails across my skin.
“Jesus, Mark…” He exhaled, digging his fingers into my back. “God, I want—”
Abruptly, we both froze.
It only took a second for my brain to catch up—a muffled but shrill ringtone.
“Son of a bitch.” Ryan breathed, loosening his embrace. “You have got to be shitting me.”
My heart sank. “Seriously?”
He grimaced. “I, uh… I have to see what—”
“It’s okay.” I gestured in the direction of the muffled ringing. “Go.”
He shot me a look that was both plaintive and apologetic, then stepped away to get his phone out of his discarded jacket. I hoped like hell it wasn’t something he’d have to respond to, or at least nothing that would mean leaving, but I wasn’t as optimistic as I would’ve liked.
Ryan glared at the screen, but then his eyes widened. “Oh, fuck.” And suddenly he was in motion, grabbing his clothes and getting dressed like the place was on fire.
