Page 54 of Ravage

"Cause you banged."

"Mate, you are a thirty-five-year-old married man with two children. You are not a teenager who needs images for his spank bank while he jerks off in a sock."

He rolls his eyes. "I don't think you're aware of the similarities between a horny teenaged boy and a horny married man with children."

I laugh. "And if that's the case, it just cements my decision not to have children."

Thankfully, a message comes through from dispatch and the subject is dropped as we scramble to get ready and head off.

I don't know why I'm reluctant to give Christian more details, as we've discussed my past hook-ups in way more detail than that. But with Imogen... it feels different. I also don't know how to bring up the fact that I'd met her at the job he still brings up almost daily. I hadn't told him I'd been back, and I don't know if he'd recognise her, but I guess we'll deal with that if we ever get to a point where he meets her.

For now... I just want to get through work so I can claim my rightful place between her legs once I head to her place tonight.

On the way to Imogen's that evening, I stop to grab us some dinner. It can't all be about sex, after all. I'll need food in order tofuck her to her liking, because I only had a chance to inhale one very tasteless protein bar all day.

"Hey," she says, opening the door to let me in. "What's that smell?"

She looks sexy as fuck, wearing an oversized jumper that hangs off one shoulder, her legs completely bare. I really want to find out if she's wearing underwear or not.

"Interesting way to greet me, but I'll go with it. The smell is Thai food... Hope you like it? I probably should have checked, but... well, who doesn't like Thai?"

She raises an eyebrow as I ramble. I think I said more in that ten seconds than any of our other conversations, as nerves kick in.

"Are you okay?" she asks, stepping aside so I can walk into her apartment.

I let out a breath. "Yeah. Just been a long day. And you look amazing. And I'm starving."

She laughs, shaking her head. "Given that whole ramble about Thai food, I assume you mean starving for actual food and not starving for sex?"

I grin. "I mean, once I get the food into me, there will definitely be sex."

"Is that right?" She smirks, then leads the way into the kitchen and starts pulling out plates for us both. "To answer your initial question amongst the word salad - yes, I love Thai food."

"Good, because I got a lot." I pull the containers out of the bag, and she starts opening them to inspect the contents.

"I approve. I love papaya salad." She hands me a fork before using her own to dig into the various containers.

I'm impressed by how much food she can handle, considering her petite frame. But I love a woman who enjoys her food and especially one who likes spice too.

I watch her lift her fork, loaded with the extra spicy papaya salad, and put it into her mouth, closing her eyes as she moans.

Yeah, this woman is basically all my teenaged wet dreams come to life.

I clear my throat and get busy with my own food, needing to distract myself so that I don't decide starvation is worth it, after all.

We move to her couch, and she curls her legs up under her body, turning side on so she can look at me while we eat.

"How was work?" she asks.

She doesn't even react to the heat of her salad, which, I'm now realising, is a massive turn on.

I shrug as I chew the bite of Pad Thai I'd just put in my mouth. Swallowing, I grab the beer I'd bought with me and take a swig.

"It was work. Ended up at the scene of a car accident, which wasn't great. But I think they'll pull through."

She runs her gaze over my face, her expression thoughtful. "I seriously don't think I could do what you do. Doesn't it get to you? All the blood and death, I mean?"

"There have been some jobs that have hit harder than others, I'll admit. But mostly, I'm dealing with patients who think that calling an ambulance means they'll jump the queue at emergency, and they want their drug fix." I dig my fork into my papaya salad. "How was the rest of your weekend?"

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