He combed his fingers through my hair, eyes filled with amusement, lust, and affection. A heady mix.
I had to fight against closing my eyes. There was just something about feeling him grow hard along my tongue that made me want to shut out the world and savor the moment. Like, it was forme.
But I was on a mission, so I maintained eye contact, and I teased him good and proper. Not unlike he’d done this morning when I’d lost my English on his tongue.
“So, um… We live an hour away from each other back home.” I flicked the tip of my tongue across the head and stroked him firmly but slowly.
He hummed again.
“For argument’s sake,” I went on, “say I’ve just spent six months in uncertainty and wondering if I’m ever coming home—and I survive, and all I want is a date with the pilot who brought me home safe and sound… Wouldn’t you say I’ve earned that?”
The amusement faded from James’s expression, leaving behind the affection. And some of the heat.
“I’d say you deserve more than a date.”
Hint, hint. So, ask me!
I sucked him in again, waiting for his elaboration, and he cupped my cheek and brushed his thumb over the corner of my mouth.
“Don’t think I haven’t considered it,” he murmured. “Despite my history with bad relationships, it would be the easiest thing in the world to ask you out. But you—” He paused and shifted in his seat. “Can you maybe do that later?”
I shook my head and tightened my lips around him.
He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “You said it yourself, Kiera. You spent six months wondering if you were ever coming home again. You weren’t just uncertain. You were scared for your life. That shit leaves scars. You haven’t evenbegunto process everything you went through. You’re in survival mode.”
There was a lot ofyou, you, you, youin that speech and very little “This is whyIcan’t date you.”
I wasn’t saying he was completely wrong. He knew what he was talking about, and I was prepared for nightmares and grief. On the other hand, he didn’t know how much of a support Noura had been. I actually had processed a lot of what I’d gone through. And coming home, finally feeling safe again, might bring all that up again. To which I said,Come at me.
I was ready to heal.
“To be honest, I want you to come talk to our shrink at work,” he continued. “Doc specializes in trauma. He helps operators process shit from conflict areas every day.”
This was officially the weirdest blow job ever. How was he managing to stay hard?
“That’s sweet of you,” I said, running my tongue up the underside of his cock. “I’ll consider it if you get back to the topic.”
He chuckled and scrubbed his hands over his face. “My point is, you’ll need time to recover. And then you’re gonna go on your husband search and pop out a few kids…”
A few was a stretch. “One or two, yes.”
He flashed me a warm grin and touched my cheek. “He’ll be the luckiest fucker on the planet, and I already wanna punch him in the face. I know, very toxic of me.”
I smiled around his cock, and he narrowed his eyes and made a picture-frame gesture with his hands, as if he wanted to take a photo of me right then and there.
But then the humor disappeared, and it was the first time I saw hesitation from him.
“You don’t want me to be that guy, sweetheart. I’ll be forty-eight this summer.”
Was that the problem? His age?
I eased back and tucked him into his boxer briefs, because I wanted to settle this before things got unnecessarily complicated. What we’d started was too new for complications.
“Have you ever wanted children?” I wondered. “If the answer is no, I respect that. It’s not for everyone.”
He weighed his response. “Sure. But I’ve told you about how much I’m gone for work.”
I nodded. “You also told me you’re looking at retirement from fieldwork in the next year or two.”
