“Tommy?”

I look up and realize I’ve missed something Mia’s said because my inner voice was whispering in my ear again. The same never-ending mantra of how I’m unworthy, but it’s enough to distract me.

Shit. I growl lightly, and Mia’s forehead creases as she sees my face.

“Sorry, lost in thought about work,” I lie, but it at least eases her worries. “What did you say?”

“I asked how your morning appointment went,” Mia says, relaxing. “I was looking forward to talking with you about some of the projects you sent me, but you popped out pretty quickly, Kerry said. I know I went to grab a coffee and boom, gone from the Motherland you were.”

“It went well,” I answer, thinking about the quick run out to the boys’ shelter. Most of them were in school, of course, but Frankie’s laid up sick with the chicken pox, so I brought him some Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup ice cream before helping him with his math homework. That kid’s a fiend for peanut butter.

After that, I came back to my place and did a workout before checking in with Kerry, and now dinner with Mia in my apartment. It’s been a full day.

I rub at my temples, willing the voice to stay at bay. Just give me an evening of peace, and it can harass me to sleep later.

“By the way,” I ask, hoping to change the subject, “how’s the research going on the idea I gave you about someone maybe kneecapping me?”

Mia hums, setting her fork down. “I’ll be honest. You’ve got a lot of oars in a lot of waters. It’s been a ton of data to slog through on top of my regular projects that actually make the company money.”

“I’m sure you can do it though . . . right?” I ask, forcing myself to keep my voice soft even as the voice in my head yammers at me.

Just do it! It shouldn’t be that hard if you actually try, you lazy shit!

I take a deep breath. The voice almost sounded like it was yelling at Mia, but I know it’s just a repeat of something my dad said to me once when I had a hard time building a mousetrap car in junior high school science class. Not that he could’ve done it either, and I did eventually figure it out. Got an A, fuck you very much, I tell the voice.

Mia nods her head, giving me a smile. “I said it’s a lot of data to slog through, but I’ve got it. I’m starting by identifying the outliers in terms of prediction versus outcome, and that’s not as easy as it might seem.”

Okay, that I can understand. There’s a lot of factors that can screw with a prediction, and some of them are out of our control. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s too early to tell, though signs are looking good that I’ll find something,” she says, but there’s heat in her voice and with a glance her way, I know she’s not talking about the research project at all. Or at least not only about it.

“Oh, you think you’ve found something good?” I prompt back, playing along.

She bites her lip. “Oh, definitely. You’re not perfect, and I wouldn’t want you to be. But I’m really happy, Tommy. I’m sure this project is going to yield some very enlightening results, maybe even increase our ultimate profit margin.”

Her not wanting me to be perfect is a balm to my soul, more healing than she probably realizes. And her play with work talk and personal talk is turning me on. Maybe that’s weird, but I’m a businessman at heart. And apparently, my cock likes a bit of market chatter too, judging by the growing bulge in my slacks.

“So what exactly are you doing to develop these figures?” I let my eyes roll over her figure, taking an extra-long glance at the hint of cleavage on display in her slashed-neck T-shirt. It’s from a band I’ve never heard of, of course, but most of her clothing is like that. I enjoy the way her blush creeps up her neck, pinkening the skin before my eyes as her breasts heave a little faster.

“Well, I can’t just look at profit and loss because some projects are short-term, others long.” She lets the word drag out sexily. She’s geeky, nerdy, and turning me on more with every word from her sexy brain.

I lean forward, refilling her wine glass. “Nothing wrong with a quickie investment. Get in, get the goods, and get out,” I rumble.

Her smirk is pure evil, her eyes wide and innocent, and the mix drives me wild. “But other times, to really get the payoff, you have to take your time, be patient, and really work every avenue for maximum impact. Milk everything you can out of it before you’re fully satisfied.”

She takes a sip of the red wine, and I watch raptly as she licks a droplet from her plump lower lip. I take a sip of my own, wanting to taste her but wanting to continue our game a bit longer.

“Really, getting everything sorted has been a bit of backbreaker, really hard and intense. But I’m making sure I do a good job on this for you, for professional pride but also because I don’t want to give you a reason to bust my ass.”

She’s still playing, teasing about me sexily spanking her, but the words . . .

Get over here! I work hard to provide and all I ask is that you work hard too and stay out of my way. Maybe if I bust your ass, you’ll finally amount to something. You asked for this. You knew I’d bust your ass.

Memories of me literally getting my ass ‘busted’ suddenly course through my brain, and I clench my jaw, regretting my action immediately as Mia takes it as my admonishing her for her sexy words. “Tommy?”

The mood is broken, the heat in my body replaced by a coating of cold sweat on my back. And judging by the way she’s eyeballing me, I must be pale because Mia looks worried.

I hang my head, not able to meet her eyes. “Sorry . . . just a bit of a flashback.”

She puts her hand on my back, rubbing me gently. “It’s okay. Happens to everyone, about good things and bad.”

Her acceptance of my freakout when we were mid-flirtation should make me feel better. Instead, I’ve never felt smaller, less like a man. I revert to what I know, dry business talk to distance myself from the shit show in my head. “It’s just that I’ve figured out there might be some level of corporate espionage and sabotage. Maybe something going on for a long time. And I’m furious and disappointed in myself for not realizing it sooner.”

Mia shakes her head. “This is slick, if there’s even anything there yet. Which I haven’t decided there is.”

“I know,” I say with a heavy sigh. And then I admit, “It’s . . . I’m learning how to trust, with you. Basically for the first time. And with this over my head, it’s even harder now. I’m sorry if that seems cruel to you or if I’m being an asshole. But I guess that’s what I’m known for.”

In my head, I see me yelling at Nathan Billington. But then superimposed over my face, my father’s face appears. Red, veins bulging, hate in his eyes. Am I really that bad? How did it get this bad?

Like father, like son. He broke your mother so badly she killed herself rather than face life with him, with her own son. How long do you think Mia can withstand you? Like father, like son.

Mia shakes her head, taking my hand. The soothing touch pushes my inner demon back for a little bit, and I feel my pulse slow a little as she strokes the back of my hand with her thumb.

“Tommy, I know this is going to be difficult. And honestly, part of me wishes you’d get some help on your issues, even more than what I can do. Your dad did a number on you, but you don’t have to let him have space in your mind. Kick him out, for fuck’s sake!”

She mutters something in Russian, even feigns spitting on my dining room rug, so I decide she’s cursing my dad. As stupid as it is, it helps. It makes it feel like she’s on my side.

“But I’m not going to push you on going to therapy. You’ll go when and if you’re ready. In the meantime, I’ll just earn your trust as best I can, because . . . well, I want that. And more.”

“I know.” I swallow, almost afraid of everything she’s asking for. “And this may sound insane, because it shouldn’t be this way, but that ‘more’ is coming faster than the trust.” It’s the closest we’ve gotten to saying the words, and she offers me a small smile, letting me know she feels the importance too.

“That’s okay. We’ll make our own path,” Mia reassures me. All I can give back is a nod as I blink the burn in my eyes away.

She leans back, giving me space before clapping her hands as if she can clear the air between us. “As we were saying, with this data mining, it’d help if you had a guess as to who I could start my search with. It’s not always a great idea, but with the sheer volume of data I’m combing through, I could use a good yard marker . . . unless you plan on my taking the next two months just doing analysis on all this.”

“I don’t know.” I grit through my teeth. “I’ve tried tracking back through some emails myself, though I’m no cyber-security expert, and I’ve searched my brain and the company directory for anyone I thought might either want to hurt me or might benefit from a Goldstone loss. And nothing. Your mic drop performance was the first time I’d really considered that something might be wrong. You helped me.”

“How’d I help?” Mia asks. “I mean, I just told you that you were wrong. And it was not a mic drop,” she argues again, the same as she had done that day. It seems so long ago, but at the same time, I feel like so much has happened. It helps, seeing that sass and fire. It reminds me that Mia’s on my side, and she’s smart, and beautiful . . . and mine.

So I don’t mind giving her some of my own back, even if it’s professional. “You had evidence to back up your claim. Most people just backup their data to the company server. But you hard saved your own copy of the data on your laptop. So I had a place to start the comparison, follow the trail, and compile a smaller group to work from.”

“The hospital project group,” Mia murmurs, and I nod. “But the only person I sent that file to was Randall.”

For some reason, even hearing Mia say his name pisses me off. “I know, but Randall says he didn’t make any changes, and like I said, his computer’s clean. Also, I looked back through my own files about some of the projects I knew didn’t go according to plan, and for some of them, he was nowhere close to the team. It’s a start, but I don’t think it’s strong.”

“But you don’t like him,” Mia points out, and I shake my head.

“I trust him to do his job, but no, I don’t like him. It’s in his face, in the way he acts sometimes. Like when I had to get in his face at the party. Every once in a while, it’s like the mask slips, showing me someone underneath who’s my enemy. And if anyone knows about masks, it’s me.”

Mia chuckles. “Yeah, that party . . . it’s funny, Tommy. I know a lot of folks would say that caveman behavior was wrong. Even that I should’ve left you both standing there, measuring your dicks. But I felt safe with you. I could see that your anger wasn’t directed at me.”

“And you have no idea how much that means to me. I was surprised at my reaction that night too,” I admit, thinking back. “I was angry at how Randall wasn’t listening to your polite no, but deep down, I just wanted to beat the shit out of him for daring to look at what was so obviously mine.”

“And I’ll admit that scares me, but the point is, you didn’t. You held yourself back,” Mia says. “So you can do better, be better. But Tommy . . . it’s also what makes me worry. You’re hell-bent on building a world for yourself, and I can see a place for me in it. But it’s a world that’s being built on a shaky, flawed foundation because you’ve got all this inner anger, this rage. What happens the first time a really big earthquake comes along and shakes it up?”

I nod and get up, going around the table and pulling her to her feet. “I’ve had the same thoughts every day. But that’s something else you help me with.”

“What’s that?” Mia asks, her breath catching when I pull her close.

“When I’m with you . . . I feel like for the first time in my life, I feel . . . peace. I feel like when that earthquake does come, maybe I can survive it.”

Mia smiles and takes off her glasses, setting them on the table before wrapping her arms about my neck. “Maybe we can survive it together. Ride it out together.”

Her words are back to having a double-meaning, this one about acceptance, about wanting me to grow but taking me as I am, fucked-up mind and all. But on top of that deeper meaning, the heat returns between us, flashing fire through my every nerve, burning away my thoughts about work, my family, my shortcomings, and leaving in its wake only . . . need.

I pick her up, carrying her over to set her on the couch, loving the image before me. She’s still the quirky woman I first met, still has the streaks in her hair—purple and blue today—but she’s been wearing skirts more often. I suspect it’s both to drive me wild with the flashes of her sexy legs and to make after-work access that much faster.

Today, her skirt is black denim, jagged at the hem in a flirty, sexy way . . . and already halfway up her thighs. I kneel, pushing her knees apart even as she spreads for me, showing me what she’s wearing today.

“You wore a thong under that skirt?” I marvel, tracing the outline of the lacy triangle over her smooth pussy. “Maybe you’re lucky I stayed out of the office today.”

“Mmm, but you would have so loved the mid-afternoon snack I had in mind,” she teases. “I was hungry and thought to myself that I could easily fit under your desk.”

Though we’ve been trying so hard to corral our actual fucking to outside work hours, the image of Mia on her knees under my desk, sucking me off while I try to maintain a semblance of normalcy, feels naughty and invigorating.

“Tomorrow, maybe. I’ll send Kerry out on an errand of something or another,” I joke before rising and kissing Mia. I want to feast on her, but after such a hard day, my cock needs attention more than my tongue, and I pull back. “Wait.”

“What?” Mia asks, her flushed face looking so fuckable I can barely hold back. But I want more than just torn clothing, tossed aside shirts, and frantic pawing at each other.

I want to be in control . . . of myself. Of her.

“Stand up . . . and strip for me,” I reply, getting up so she can stand. As soon as she does, I take her place on the couch, watching her.

She shimmies her way out of her skirt and then begins teasing at the hem of her T-shirt, pulling it up and shoving it down to give me quick flashing peeks. And then with a smile that says she knows exactly how wild she’s driving me, she pulls the shirt over her head.

She’s a vision in sheer lace, bright pink against her pale skin. Her tits are pushed up high, cupped in a way that makes me want to free them, want to see their heaviness bounce. The lace at her center is but a bare scrap, giving way to thin strings that go over her hips.

I palm myself distractedly, looking for relief from the wellspring she’s drawing up inside me. But she notices and with a bite of her lip demands, “Let me see.”

I growl, giving her what she wants only because it’s what I want too. I pull my shirt open, buttons flying but I don’t give a fuck. And as I reach for my belt, I rumble, “Get on your knees for a closer look.”

Her eyes flash to mine, and for a moment I think I went too far, not in the words because I know Mia can handle that, but in the tone. Bossy, demanding, arrogantly forceful. Like I’m entitled to have her suck me off. But then I see her blue orbs darken, and she drops in one movement, sagging like someone simply knocked her down. Or like someone took control of her body.

And I realize that someone has. Me. And she’s letting me.

I rip my fly open, shoving my pants and underwear down over my ass. My cock stands heavy between us, and she waits for permission, for an order. She waits for me. “Suck me off, Mia. Like you would under my desk. Wrap those lips around me and swallow every fucking inch.”

She moves forward, taking me into the hot wetness of her mouth, not inch by painstaking inch but all at once to the hilt. I surge into her throat, grabbing at her head and finding purchase with fistfuls of her hair. She makes a gluck sound in her throat and it’s my undoing.

I push into her mouth over and over, pleased beyond measure as she swallows me at every interval. Her hums of pleasure vibrate through my shaft, and all too soon, I’m on the edge.

I hold her back by her hair, and she pouts that I’ve taken her treat away, though I can see the mess I’ve already made of her, drool and pre-cum mixing and dripping off her chin to her chest.

I guide her up, and she climbs into my lap, our hands exploring each other. I lean in, kissing her chest before sucking on her stiff nipple through the lace, flicking my tongue over the peak as Mia rubs against my cock, the wispy thong preventing nothing but my filling her.

“Oh, God, Tommy . . . I want you every day,” Mia moans, pushing my head away to kiss me tenderly. “I promise you, I’ll do whatever I can to make you a happy man.”

“I promise you . . . I’ll never hurt you,” I reply. “I’ll protect you, even if it’s from me.” It’s a promise I hope I can keep.

She shakes her head, her hair brushing along the backs of my hands where I hold her hips. Though her eyes are closed in pleasure as she grinds against me, her words are crystal-clear. “I don’t need protection from you. You need protection from you. That demon inside your mind only wants to hurt you. But I won’t let it. I won’t let it have you. You’re mine. My good man.”

The demon scoffs in my head. You’re barely even a man, much less a good one.

But when Mia slips her thong to the side and reaches down, rubbing the head of my cock between her wet lips, her words are the ones echoing in my mind, shutting the voice up.

I pause, not forcing her down on my iron-hard member but letting her control it, feeling the electric thrill as she rubs just the crown, her honey oozing over my tip and down my shaft until I’m gleaming, and Mia whimpers.

“Your good man,” I reply, needing the power of the words in the air between us. I hiss as she lowers herself onto me. Her pussy grips me in a tight, slippery vise that draws me into her until I push down on her ass, seating my cock deep inside her. “And I’ve wanted you all day. Now I have you, and you have me.”

Mia leans in, kissing me before she starts riding me, lifting her body and bringing her nipples to my mouth. I suck deeply, her other side rubbing against my cheek as she bounces, planting her hands on the back of the couch as she takes me.

I . . . I like this. Like our time in Tokyo, I let her have what she wants, entranced as she rolls her hips, her thighs tightening while my cock plunges deep inside her. Watching her through half-lidded eyes, I can feel my soul yearn for her happiness and pleasure, exaltation sweeping me as she throws her head back, crying out when the head of my cock rubs over her G-spot.

“So good. Soo good.”

“Beautiful,” I rasp, and she looks down, smiling. Reaching down, she grabs my hair and pulls my head back into a soul-searing kiss that ignites the feral side of me like gasoline on a fire.

Grabbing her ass, I squeeze tightly, my fingers digging in and holding her still as I thrust deep into her, her pussy clenching around me as I hammer upward, my hips flexing hard with each savage stab deep inside her. I clamp my lips around her right nipple, sucking hard until she cries out in pain and pleasure.

“That’s it,” I growl, letting go of her nipple and flexing my arms, adding all my strength into the deep stroking, fucking her with my whole body. Her hips must be aching. She’s clapping up and down on my thighs so hard that the sound echoes even above our panting breaths and the roar of my heart beating in my chest. “Take it.”

Why pretend? You’re not good enough for her.

The whispered voice that I thought had abated drives me into a fury, and I pull Mia off me, pushing her over the arm of the sofa before plunging back inside her, holding her by her hair.

She cries out, but it’s not in fear or pain, and she pushes back into me. I pound her, smacking her ass with my free hand while my cock pumps deep into her.

Sweat rolls down my cheeks, and I can hear her groaning as if I’m being too rough, but I can’t stop. I just need to give her everything that I feel inside me. I need her to feel what I feel, all the fear and the desire and the hope and the anger.

I give it all to her.

And she takes it, somehow pushing back against me. I feel her pussy choking my cock before she starts to shake, and her climax crashes through her as she clamps down on me.

My name is a guttural howl of devotion on her lips, and I roar, my cum splashing deep inside her as her cry unlocks my release. I feel my balls emptying, the white-hot pleasure and pain mixing and scourging me of my agony, telling me that somehow, I’ve found my one and only.

The words are right there on the tip of my tongue but I hold them back. Not because of Mia. She deserves my truth, and I’m learning that more and more. But because I need to be stronger, better before I give her that last bit of me. The words are a promise, and I want to be the man she thinks I can be before I make that vow. But heart and soul, she’s marking me as much as I’m marking her.

It scares me, but at the same time, I want more of it.

More of her. More of me. More of us.

My hand relaxes, and I pull her back, cradling her body in my lap as she shudders, putting her arms around my neck and nuzzling against my neck.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “For giving me everything. For not holding back.”

“Thank you . . . for letting me be myself.”