Page 125 of On A Manhunt: Complete Series

MALLORY

From my spot at the back of the assembly room–a strategic location so parents and teachers were spaced around the room–I watched as Mrs. Fujikawa, Ethan’s mom, shared with all three first-grade classes about her job as an architect.

It was the annual first-grade career day, which meant the entire morning was devoted to various parents sharing fun facts about their jobs.

So far we’d heard from a woman on ski patrol at the resort, a dad who ran wilderness trips, and another who was a sign language interpreter.

Ethan was the speaker’s third child, so she had a knack for keeping the kids engaged.

All eighty of them were seated around a semicircle of risers completely enthralled because she just finished using a glue gun and popsicle sticks to quickly build a little bridge.

As she did so, she explained how it was an architect’s job to make sure it was sturdy by using triangles and math.

She stopped and got the kids doing a drum roll as she placed a brick on the top to prove it.

The kids gasped and murmured in awe at how it held up. It was pretty impressive.

Regina, one of the other first-grade teachers, joined the woman at the front, thanking her for her presentation, directing the kids to share their thanks. They clapped and Ethan ran up to his mom and gave her a hug–and snagged the popsicle stick bridge to show off later.

“I’m not sure if I can top that.”

A familiar voice cut through the excited chatter of all the kids.

I turned and there was Theo. Here, at the school.

I blinked, confused. “Um… hi.”

His dark eyes raked down my body and took in my black jeans and Hunter Valley Elementary red sweatshirt.

It had a big falcon on the front, the school’s mascot.

I was covered head to toe, in complete contrast to how he’d left me the night before, his mouth glistening with my arousal, his short beard coated in me.

Coated.

I’d been naked. Sprawled wantonly across the guest bed.

He’d gotten me off… twice, with an insane tongue/finger combo, then left.

No reciprocation. He’d been fully dressed, and I’d been completely bare. Legs spread wide.

After that, I’d crashed hard. The day had been hell. I hadn’t slept in jail the night before. God, jail. Seriously, I was still processing being arrested. And me, for solicitation? I hadn’t even seen Theo’s dick and I was the one having to post bail for offering sex for money.

Totally ironic.

The long trip home had been far from restful. And it seemed two orgasms were the best sleeping pill around.

But when my alarm went off this morning, reality came crashing back. As I’d brushed my teeth, I made a mental list.

I had to go back to Las Vegas, stand before a judge and explain that I wasn’t a prostitute and why the undercover cop thought I was one.

I had to find the money to actually get to Las Vegas to do that. And a lawyer.

I had to keep all of that a secret from the Hunter Valley gossip grapevine.

1-3 didn’t take into account Theo and his exceptionally dedicated and focused oral skills. Or the fact that we’d never kissed. That he didn’t linger after satisfying me. That he didn’t seek reciprocation. I felt… serviced.

Of course, every woman in the world would be happy with being serviced by Theo James. He’d said if I wanted sex, it’d be him to do it with. He didn’t say date. Or use the relationship or love words.

Even though I’d made the bold statement that I was marrying Theo–more than once–I had no silly notions about that actually happening.

I hadn’t had epic expectations from Tom either, but I did ultimately want to find someone.

Get married. Sure, I’d kept pushing that I was going to marry Theo, but that had been loud-mouth me. Theo didn’t want marriage.

He said he was going to give me sex, without dick penetration.

Until I got on birth control. Then I’d get The Dick.

I hoped. If I got the shot at my appointment this afternoon, the one I read up on, I’d be covered immediately.

Not that we wouldn’t use condoms as well. He’d said two forms of protection.

I didn’t want kids but clearly Theo didn’t either. Or he didn’t want to be tied to me.

I totally caught on to that. He might be a vigorous and thorough lover–from what we’d done so far–but we hadn’t even kissed.

No foreplay, although how he licked and sucked on my nipples the night before probably counted.

He was so unbelievably hot… but distant at the same time.

There was a connection, chemistry, between us. But no attachment.

Beneath my plain bra, the nipples he’d worked over so well the night before now tingled. Good thing the sweatshirt was loose because he’d see how hard they were otherwise. Same with everyone else in the assembly room.

“Whatever you’re thinking, I want to do to you later,” he said, leaning in close, not that anyone could overhear.

I flushed. I could feel the heat on my cheeks, and I was sure I was as red as my sweatshirt. My mind just went on a trip somewhere inappropriate for being in a room full of first-graders.

With a quick throat clear, I asked, keeping my voice just above a whisper, “What are you doing here?”

Theo leaned against the wall and tipped his chin toward the front of the room where the fire chief was presenting. “Mac pretty much blackmailed me into participating.” He didn’t sound that thrilled about the idea, especially since it took coercion to do it.

“You know Mac?”

He nodded. “Firefighter training on Saturday.”

“Ah.” I didn’t know how Mac had blackmailed Theo, but he didn’t seem to be in the mood to share.

The kids clapped for whatever Mac just said. He was in his bunker gear and held his helmet and oxygen mask up for the kids to see.

“What am I supposed to say to these guys?” Theo asked. “Mac says I have a stick up my ass.”

I quirked my lips and stayed silent.

“You think I have a stick up my ass?” he prodded his eyes clearly concerned with this possibility.

“You had an intense job. A lot of responsibility. I think… I think you’re serious. Focused.”

I liked that focus when it came to giving me orgasms.

He was quiet, as if considering my words.

I tried to be as diplomatic as possible.

Compared to his brothers, he really was serious.

Sometimes he did have a stick up his ass, but I had a feeling Mav had one too before he found Bridge.

Maybe Silas did as well, but I hadn’t been around him all that much. He was quieter instead of intense.

As for Dex being serious? No way.

“I have no idea how to talk to eight-year-olds,” he admitted.

“They’re six,” I clarified.

His jaw clenched. “Six? Even worse. I deal with trauma. Bad stuff. Not learning how to interact with them and shape their small minds.”

I found his concern amusing. Theo wasn’t what anyone would call tender. Or sweet. Or warm and fuzzy. The way he’d abandoned me with my orgasmic haze, I’d say he wasn’t a cuddler.

He seemed to really have no clue what to do with children.

“They’re not off to med school tomorrow, so make it fun,” I instructed. “Silly even. If you polled them, they want to either be a princess, an astronaut or a snowplow driver.”

“I’m guessing no parent is a princess?”

“You’re the fill in for her. Her tiara was being cleaned,” I said with a straight face.

“You’ll do fine. Have fun, but it’s always nice to throw in a reminder of how to be safe.

” I pointed to Mac who was on the floor demonstrating Stop, Drop, and Roll.

The kids were laughing as he flailed around like an upside-down turtle at the end.

“Safe. Fun. Got it.”

The ominous tone sounded more like he didn’t have it at all.

I studied his profile as he watched Mac explain what he would look like during a fire so the kids wouldn’t be scared before putting on his oxygen mask so they could see. He wrapped up quickly after that.

“Well, shit. He has stickers,” Theo muttered as Mac pulled a stack from one of the many pockets on his bunker pants.

I bit my lip, trying not to smile.

He must’ve known he came next because he pushed off the wall but turned to me.

“My place, six.” His gaze held mine. Direct and potent as usual, none of his kid-wariness visible. “Come hungry. I will be.”

Oh fudge.