Page 14
Preferably while naked.
Carefully, he extracted his arm from underneath her head and got out of the bed, walking into his bathroom with a grin on his face. For the first time in…well…forever, he had a goal in his life besides work and sleep and living day by day.
He needed to keep her around for a little while longer. Learn what made her tick, and what made her special. Discover why she, out of everyone, made him want more than the typical one-night stand from her. There had to be a reason he wanted more.
And once I figure it out, and fix it, I’ll run like hell in the opposite direction.
Not yet, though.
He turned on the shower and got in, his mind on her the whole time. And when he shut the water off, his mind was still on her. He made quick work of brushing his teeth and his hair, and came into his bedroom wearing nothing but a towel. Time to wake his sleeping beauty with a kiss.
He walked over to the bed, but when he reached it…it was empty.
He spun in a circle, scanning the floor. The spot where her clothes had been lying in the hallway was as empty as the bed. “Son of a bitch.”
She’d pulled a fuck-and-dash on him.
That was usually his play.
Letting out a string of curses, he walked over to the bed, the towel clenched tight in his hands. There was a note on the pillow. Reaching out, he picked it up and scanned it.
Holt,
Thank you for an unforgettable night. It was perfect in every way. Something tells me this morning, if I hung around, would only ruin the perfectness of it all. So…thank you. Again. It was a night to remember forever.
Lydia.
He stared down at her elegant scrawl. She’d run…and left him a thank you note. Un-fucking-believable. She thought her hanging around would ruin things?
Okay. Sure. For most one-night stands, he’d agree, but not with her. She was different. He’d wanted…
It didn’t matter what he’d wanted, because she was gone. Whether he’d felt finished or not…she was. It was over.
…
He walked into the office an hour later, his steps wide and hurried, and irritation at everything in the world eating away at him. Ever since an adorable strawberry blonde had fled his bed, nothing had been going his way. If only he hadn’t left her alone…but it was too late. Nothing would change that except a TARDIS.
If he had one of those, he could go back in time. He’d wake her with an orgasm or two, and keep her there until they were both finished.
But that wasn’t gonna fucking happen.
Jake Forsythe nodded at him as he passed, and he nodded back. Normally he’d stop and shoot the shit, but he was already late, and he had a ton of work to do. Closing his office door behind him, he settled into his chair and opened his browser.
A bunch of files sat on his desk, but he ignored them. He really needed to get started…but the nagging memory of the woman who’d left his house this morning wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Maybe if he searched her name, and learned more about her, he’d get over her and move on, like he should have done already.
Let’s see…what did he know about Lydia? Well…her name was Lydia. She’d gone to St. Joseph’s, and had recently graduated. And she liked Doctor Who. Yeah…
That was it.
Fuck me.
He opened Google and typed in Lydia, St. Joseph’s College. A bunch of results popped up, but it was all shit. After a quick knock, his buddy and coworker, Steven Thomas, came in. He slammed his laptop shut guiltily and glanced up. “H-Hey. What’s up?”
“Not much.” He sat in the chair opposite Holt’s desk. “Shit, man, I had a long night last night.”
Yeah, so had he. And the migraine building behind his brows was annoying as fuck. “Why? What happened?”
“I got in a fight with Heather, and she broke it off with me.” He ran his hands down his face and sighed. “She said I don’t love her enough.”
Carefully, he extracted his arm from underneath her head and got out of the bed, walking into his bathroom with a grin on his face. For the first time in…well…forever, he had a goal in his life besides work and sleep and living day by day.
He needed to keep her around for a little while longer. Learn what made her tick, and what made her special. Discover why she, out of everyone, made him want more than the typical one-night stand from her. There had to be a reason he wanted more.
And once I figure it out, and fix it, I’ll run like hell in the opposite direction.
Not yet, though.
He turned on the shower and got in, his mind on her the whole time. And when he shut the water off, his mind was still on her. He made quick work of brushing his teeth and his hair, and came into his bedroom wearing nothing but a towel. Time to wake his sleeping beauty with a kiss.
He walked over to the bed, but when he reached it…it was empty.
He spun in a circle, scanning the floor. The spot where her clothes had been lying in the hallway was as empty as the bed. “Son of a bitch.”
She’d pulled a fuck-and-dash on him.
That was usually his play.
Letting out a string of curses, he walked over to the bed, the towel clenched tight in his hands. There was a note on the pillow. Reaching out, he picked it up and scanned it.
Holt,
Thank you for an unforgettable night. It was perfect in every way. Something tells me this morning, if I hung around, would only ruin the perfectness of it all. So…thank you. Again. It was a night to remember forever.
Lydia.
He stared down at her elegant scrawl. She’d run…and left him a thank you note. Un-fucking-believable. She thought her hanging around would ruin things?
Okay. Sure. For most one-night stands, he’d agree, but not with her. She was different. He’d wanted…
It didn’t matter what he’d wanted, because she was gone. Whether he’d felt finished or not…she was. It was over.
…
He walked into the office an hour later, his steps wide and hurried, and irritation at everything in the world eating away at him. Ever since an adorable strawberry blonde had fled his bed, nothing had been going his way. If only he hadn’t left her alone…but it was too late. Nothing would change that except a TARDIS.
If he had one of those, he could go back in time. He’d wake her with an orgasm or two, and keep her there until they were both finished.
But that wasn’t gonna fucking happen.
Jake Forsythe nodded at him as he passed, and he nodded back. Normally he’d stop and shoot the shit, but he was already late, and he had a ton of work to do. Closing his office door behind him, he settled into his chair and opened his browser.
A bunch of files sat on his desk, but he ignored them. He really needed to get started…but the nagging memory of the woman who’d left his house this morning wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Maybe if he searched her name, and learned more about her, he’d get over her and move on, like he should have done already.
Let’s see…what did he know about Lydia? Well…her name was Lydia. She’d gone to St. Joseph’s, and had recently graduated. And she liked Doctor Who. Yeah…
That was it.
Fuck me.
He opened Google and typed in Lydia, St. Joseph’s College. A bunch of results popped up, but it was all shit. After a quick knock, his buddy and coworker, Steven Thomas, came in. He slammed his laptop shut guiltily and glanced up. “H-Hey. What’s up?”
“Not much.” He sat in the chair opposite Holt’s desk. “Shit, man, I had a long night last night.”
Yeah, so had he. And the migraine building behind his brows was annoying as fuck. “Why? What happened?”
“I got in a fight with Heather, and she broke it off with me.” He ran his hands down his face and sighed. “She said I don’t love her enough.”
Table of Contents
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