Dahlia's Kiss

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“Dahlia,”Drake spoke through the tiny speaker in my phone. “I think we need to talk about what happened the other night. Can you come in early so we can discuss it before the rest of the office arrives?” I detected the nervousness in his voice and dreaded the meeting, but I really did owe him an apology. Especially since I left in the middle of the night without so much as an ‘I’ll see you later.’ I couldn’t tell if the difference in his tone meant he was mad at me, or if he just wanted answers.

I didn’t even want to go to work today. After Sterling’s cryptic words the night before, I could just see a SWAT team bursting into the law office, bringing me down with tasers. Didn’t really matter that I was innocent since they had the evidence they needed with my hair.

They would probably lock me in some kind of secure facility and do medical tests until there was nothing left of me. I shivered with the thought.

“How early?” I asked, pouring coffee into a mug and immediately dosing it with cream and sugar. I liked a little coffee with my cream, thank you very much. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I was hoping to have a lazy morning.”

“Just an hour.” He was persistent. “I just want to talk.”

Bean watched me from the back of the couch like a familiar absorbing my emotions. I felt calmer looking into his big green eyes.

“Fine,” I caved. “But if you’re wanting to fuck while no one can hear us, I’m really not in the mood.”

“It’s nothing like that.”

“Okay.” The cat jumped down and sauntered away, losing interest. “I’ll get dressed and I’ll be right in.”

Showering was a pain. My entire body was sore from the night before. Deliciously sore. Every swipe of the loofah on my lady bits was a painful reminder of the stamina of the men who desired me, and I smiled, knowing I would happily do it all over again.

I dressed in a modest, one-piece pantsuit, tucking the skirt I’d originally planned to wear back into the closet. There was no chance of Drake getting his hands on me through that. Hell, I’d have to fully undress just to go to the bathroom. My makeup was natural, and my hair was twisted into a messy bun. Looking in the mirror, I saw a bite mark on the side of my throat and covered it with some concealer. I didn’t remember anyone nipping me. I wondered which one of did it.

The drive to the office was a blur. I must have been on autopilot the entire time, because when I pulled into the lot, I scarcely remembered even getting in the car.

Drake was waiting at the door. Normally an impeccable dresser, he was in a running suit paired with black Nikes. His hair was slicked back, and his face was flushed.

“Going for a run?” I asked before I could catch myself from voicing the stupid question.

“Already did,” he replied. “Hence the sweat. Sometimes I run in the mornings to clear my mind if I know I'm going to have a difficult day. It puts me in the right headspace to deal with my issues.”

He held the door open as I passed and locked the deadbolt behind us.

“Locking me in, Drake?”

“No one else will be here for another hour, at least. I don’t want any weirdos wandering in off the street.”

He led the way, and I followed, feeling like a sheep being led to the slaughter. How the hell was I going to explain my disappearing act? Or why I chose him in my moment of need to begin with. I really hoped he didn’t come to the wrong conclusion. The last thing I needed was someone else thinking I was the woman for them.

Once in his office, he closed the door and took a seat behind his desk. I eased myself into a chair, feeling my swollen nether region acutely through the fabric of my pants. His hands were in a steeple before him, his eyes trained on me, mouth in an expressionless line. It was a lawyer’s mouth, one that gave nothing away about what he was thinking. If I didn’t know him better, I would think I was about to get fired.

“Dahlia,” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“About the other night.” He looked at his hands as if he couldn’t bring himself to look at me as he spoke. “I feel like I overstepped my boundaries with you. You came to me because you were scared and instead of giving you a blanket and my spare bedroom, I bathed you and fucked your brains out. I admit, that was more for me than it was for you, and I’m sorry. You regretted it, or you wouldn’t have left the way you did. I’ve been thinking about it ever since I woke up alone.”

The laughter raised from my chest and flooded out of my mouth. I couldn’t help it. He was apologizing because he thought I was mad at him. And here I'd been worried it was the other way around. He looked perplexed by my laughter; his head tilted to the side like a dog trying to understand his owner’s words.

“Drake, I was never mad at you,” I told him. “You gave me exactly what I needed that night, and it was very sweet of you. I just can’t sleep very well in someone else’s bed. When I came over, I thought I wanted to be somewhere else, but after you calmed me down, I just wanted to go home. You did me a great favor and I appreciate it.”

His chest deflated with a massive sigh of relief. “I was worried you would quit your job over it.”