“Wow. The one-hand pull. Nice move.”
I chuckle and glance back at her.
“Eyes on the pics, Doctor. Let’s get you relaxed and make sure nothing’s missing.”
I hear Mia going through the cupboard and popping a lid open. I’m curious, but also too blissed out to care. Surprises from Mia tend to come wrapped in chaos and delight.
She returns, her hands slick and warm, the scent of coconut washing over me.
“Mia Thorne, are you using cooking oil on me?” I’m joking. She could be using sewage, and I’d be complimenting the lovely scent she picked for the occasion.
“Virgin coconut oil from an unopened jar.” She laughs. “Didn’t want to break the moment by going upstairs for our oil. Now hush. Look at the picture.”
Our oil, huh?
Her hands glide over my back. I exhale hard.
“Tell me what made you choose that one.”
“The atmosphere. I saw myself smiling when I walked into that room.”
“That’s a perfect start. And honestly surprising. Care to explain why?”
“It’s warm, calm. Inviting.”
“What grabbed your attention first?”
“The side table. With the mini library underneath.”
She hums in the most sexual way. Or so my dick says.
“What else?”
“The paintings.”
She slaps my right shoulder. “There are no paintings in the room, Dr. Preston.”
“Sorry, you relaxed me too much. I closed my eyes. You only have yourself to blame.” Another slap, but this one is lighter and comes with giggles. “The curtains. I love to sleep in the dark, and the heavy, dark curtains pulled me in.”
“Do youwantto add paintings?”
“No. Pictures. New ones. Around the house too. Make new memories.” Her hands drift up my neck. My head bows into her hands. Her thumbs press behind my ears, and another moan escapes me.
“I’ll message Zaha and ask her to add that to the project. Can’t believe I’m askingyouthis, but… let’s be practical now.”
I laugh—until her hands coast down my front. Fingertips teasing over my chest, nails dragging down, then up my abdomen. The laughter dies in my throat.
“Miaaaa…” It comes out as a stretched-out warning.
“Sorry.” It drips with fake innocence, very much notsorry. “Guess I got distracted too. Told you I can’t think straight if you’re not wearing a shirt.”
Her hands return to my shoulders as she steps in closer, mouth next my ear.
“One last look. What else do you want in your bedroom? What’s still missing before we can call it perfect?”
You. I want you in it.
“A scent diffuser,” I say instead.
