Page 39 of Trouble from Abroad
“Neither are you.” I lick my lips, desperate for a taste of hers. “Go to bed, Mia.”
Her pinballing eyes land on my groin, and she gets the answer as to why I can’t put my shirt on. She looks up at me, then down again, eyes doubling in size and acknowledgment.
My mouth starts running. “Please don’t see this as a sign of disrespect. If anything, take it as a compliment.” What the actual fuck am I saying? “This hasn’t happened in a very, very long time.”
“But you were married.”
“And taking blue pills for far too many years.” My arms fall at my side. Not sure if it’s shame or defeat.
“Dr. Preston,” Mia whispers as she steps closer, oil slick between her fingertips. “We don’t need to talk about it.” She’s so close the pull between us tightens. “I mean… it’s biological, right? You’re reacting to someone’s touch. It’s not personal or anything.”
Not personal? Has she forgotten how my dick greetedher on her first day here when I found her towel-less in my hallway?
I lean in and the pull intensifies. Sparking, crackling. We’re closer, so close, but I don’t touch her. My breath does, though.
“That’s not true at all. Make no mistake, Mia. My body is reacting toyourtouch. This is how my body answers toyou, andyou only.”
Without ceremony, I step back and adjust myself inside my pants while Mia watches openly, mouth agape.
“Sweet dreams, Mia. I think I’ll sleep better tonight with your scent for company.” I watch the rise and fall of her full breasts, and congratulate myself on not lingering there.
I’m on the stairs, heading up, when I turn just enough to check she’s still there. I don’t dare face her as I add, after a deep breath, “When I close my eyes, it’ll feel like you’re in bed with me.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
mia
Did the shirtless,hot-as-fuck, fine doctor say he was going to imaginemein bed with him? No, I must’ve misheard him. I shake my head and laugh at myself. How crazy am I?
It’s late. I’m tired. I’m making things up. Cherry-picking his words and giving them a new meaning. Wow. I took selective hearing to a whole new level.
I pinch my arm and watch the red mark bloom. This has had to be a dream—or a side effect of that weird-smelling tea from that dodgy little shop I visited earlier.
My teachers always said I had a vivid imagination. Inventive, some called it. Delusional feels more fitting now.
Like I must’ve imagined the size of the dick outlined by his pants. It can’t be as big as it looked. Not possible. Or feasible. No way that’s anatomically plausible.
Never, in my twenty-eight years, has a man who looks like Preston shown an interest in me. That delusional bit in me says that he was flirting. Or at least teasing.The pragmatic part of me wonders if this is a trap. One I’m laying for myself and shouldn’t even entertain the possibility of being real. No matter how much I want it to be. Heart hammering in my chest, I march toward my bedroom, lock the door, and laugh into my pillow. The kind of laugh that only comes when you’ve finally lost your grip on composure. God help me if this echoes through the vents and I sound deranged in stereo.
The man whispered one inappropriate sentence in the dark, probably already regrets it and will apologize profusely in the morning. But that will be too late because my mind’s already running a million miles a minute, playing all the different scenarios where he takes more than my scent to bed with him.
I get up and use every available socket in this room to charge a toy. I’ll be getting no sleep, but I’ll be having fun. So much fun. I stretch my fingers too. Just in case.
My brain tries to switch from what would Dr. Preston do to me, to the implications of sleeping with my boss while nannying his child.
Pragmatic Mia reminds me that he’s not just my boss. He’s Lily’s dad.
And I adore that kid. I mean, full-stop, love-at-first-sight, adore her. Last thing I want to do is hurt her.
But vagina takes over, shuts brain down and now I’m fantasizing about how much of that monster dick I could take. A better person would stop.
Me? I’m tempted. Wet. Hoping to God he’s as tempted and meant every word he said tonight.
Please, Universe. Just this time. Let me not be that crazy.
* **
I wake up to sunlight clawing at my face. My mouth is dry, my hair a bird’s nest, and my dreams? As obscene as the grin I pull as I recall them all. A quick pit stop at the bathroom, then I head to Lily’s room with plenty of time to get her ready without drama or mishaps. I trace my fingers through her locks. “Wakey-wakey, Lils. Time to star your day.”
