There’s nothing to be done about my torn shirt, but he picks up my hairpin, plants a kiss on my temple, then grabs my hand, pulling me across the waiting room and into my office.
Legs still trembling, I collapse into one of the chairs while Zade goes to the adjoining bathroom to take care of the condom.
He returns to the room and heads straight for my couch, throwing his large frame across it while twirling the transparent plastic hairpin between his hands. The tension is beginning to settle back into his shoulders, but I’m surprised when he asks, “How was your day?”
It's a simple question, really, but somehow, it almost feels more intimate than the s*x we just had.
Like the first orgasm he ever gave me.
Like that single hand he had on my back at Rafe’s funeral.
Like the bandage he p
