“We’re all waiting for your written report. Every detail matters. Use this office and upload it here.” He drops a card on the desk in front of me.
The rest of the day I focus on my keyboard and try not to think of Sky. Sometime around lunch, an email from the FBI arrives in my inbox. It contains details of my employment, including a visit to their shrink and a physical. Finally, after a long call to my union rep, I drive home, park in my garage, and wander over to The Train Station.
I should be thrilled at my new job, but all I can do is think of a dull life without my Ophelia. A few beers in, Dan walks over and leans on his elbows behind the bar.
“Have you called her?”
“Why? She made her choice. She doesn’t want me.” Gulping back my beer, I point for another, and Daniel cuffs my head.
“Dude, she found an awesome gig and took it. What’s your problem?”
“She should’ve tried harder to find one near me.”
“Or you could’ve taken a leave of absence to follow her? You still could.” His laser-beam, holier-than-thou gaze makes me squirm.
He’s going for a knockout in round one, but I’m not done punching. “Give upmycareer to follow her around the world so she can babysit celebrities?”
“So, you believe she should quit her career for you?” Dan’s eyes pierce mine and I’m down for the count.
God, I hate it when he’s right. “Is it too much to want a woman who wants me?” I throw some bills on the bar, head home, and pour from the bottle that doesn’t include listening to a fucking know-it-all, older-brother, bartender-shrink.
Sometime during my drunken stupor, my phone pings, I glance at the caller ID and almost delete it.
Sky: Miss you like mad.
I wait for the longest time before responding. If I text back, it means I’m agreeing to a long-distance relationship. Hell, I’m not sure what I want but I crave her snarky comments, her smile, and the way she cries out my name once I’m deep inside her.
Me: What’s your first day off?
Sky: Wednesday
Me: I’ll be there and send you my flight deets
Sky: You don’t have to
Me: Try and stop me
Happier than I’ve been in days, I request time off, book a round trip ticket, and sleep better than I have in weeks.
Hours later, my beaming lover jumps up and down in the LAX terminal, and waves at me in the passenger area. “Dean. Over here.”
“Butterfly.” Dodging and ducking, I race across the waiting room, swing her in circles, and kiss her until a guard tells us we’re blocking the path.
Hand in hand, we laugh and the resentment which had been holding my heart in shackles breaks away. Dan was right. I was a total jerk. Me and Sky are stupidly and hopelessly in love. Nothing else matters.
Upon passing a changing station, she tugs me inside and locks the door. After I drop my knapsack, her mouth claims mine and she presses my body against the door. In the most heated kiss of my life, her frantic fingers tear off my jacket, untuck my shirt and unlatch my pants.
By the time she pulls out my cock, I’ve slipped her top and sports bra over her head. With her flowy skirt at her waist, I slip aside her string thong, and dip into her smoldering core.
It’s only been days, but it feels like weeks. Growling in her ear, I inhale her pheromone-filled scent, and meld my body to hers. No longer able to breathe, I nip her earlobes, kiss down her front, and suck on a nipple.
Once I have a pert, matching set, I lift her butt and swing her toward a sink. Her legs wrap over my hips and her ankles lock at my lower back. Groaning, I place my swollen tip at her entrance, then gasp.
“Oh, God, I missed you.” My pelvis tilts back and I groan as I push inside her sweet, tight, sheath. She’s my drug, my redemption, my everything.
Thrusting deep, our bones grind and I whisper, “I’m sorry I was such an ass.”
She puts a toe down on the linoleum, spreads wider, and pants. “Don’t be. We needed to know it was the real thing.”
