The image of her tight body bent over this very desk, that pristine white coat hiked up around her waist, invades my mind. Her dark hair would spill across my papers. I can see her looking over her shoulder at me, eyes narrowed, challenging me even as she submits…
My phone buzzes violently, shattering the fantasy. I assume it’s Olivia and I reach for it, but the screen is flashing red.
FIRE ALARM - ELENA SAFONOV RESIDENCE.
“Fuck.” Just like that, every thought of Olivia—of anything except getting my ass across town as fast as possible—is gone. The first vibration hasn’t even finished and I’m already moving, grabbing my keys.
The drive to Dorchester is supposed to take twenty minutes.
I make it in twelve.
I careen to a stop along the familiar curb, my car still running. Smoke trails f
