Page 25 of Daddy's Naughty Bartender
Susie: HOLY SHIT DETAILS NOW
Me: Later. He's coming back.
But when Jason returns, his expression is grim. "I have to go back to Chicago."
"What? Now?"
"Tomorrow morning. Business emergency. My partner made a mess of a major account." He pulls me to my feet, hands gentle on my arms. "This doesn't change anything."
"You're leaving."
"Temporarily." His voice brooks no argument. "Two days, three at most. Then I'm coming back to you."
"Jason—"
"I'm coming back." He cradles my face. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."
"I wasn't trying to get rid of you."
"Shh." His thumb presses my lips. "I see that look. You're already convincing yourself this is a sign, that it's too complicated, that you should protect yourself." His eyes bore into mine. "Stop. This is a minor inconvenience, not a cosmic message. I'm coming back. To you. For you. Believe that."
"Okay."
"Say it like you mean it."
I take a breath, choosing trust. "Okay. You're coming back."
"Good girl." This time, when he leans down, nothing interrupts. His lips find mine, and the world tilts.
It isn't the desperate passion of new lust. It's deeper, surer. A claim and a promise. His tongue traces the seam of my lips and I open for him, letting him in, letting him lead. One hand tangles in my hair while the other presses me close, and I melt into him completely.
When we finally break apart, I'm breathless and aching.
"Remember that," he murmurs against my lips. "Remember how this feels. How we fit. Remember I'm coming back."
"I'll remember."
"My brave girl." One more kiss, quick but thorough. "I'll text you when I land. Every day while I'm gone. And, Karen?"
"Yes?"
"No hiding while I'm away. No convincing yourself this isn't real. No running. Promise me."
"I promise."
"That's my good girl."
He drives me home, the air between us charged with unspoken promises. At my door, he doesn’t ask. His hand slides to my waist, pulling me in with a grip that is just shy of rough. I feel the heat of him, the strength in his fingers, the steady thud of his heart pressed against mine. His gaze pins me, dangerous, unflinching, and something inside me answers, reckless and ready.
Then, his mouth is on mine. Not tentative, not polite. It’s fierce and inevitable. His other hand comes up to cradle the side of my face, thumb pressing against my jaw, holding me exactly where he wants me. The kiss is deep, relentless, claiming in a way that feels like a warning and a promise all at once.
When he finally breaks away, it’s only far enough to breathe the same air, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with something I don’t dare name. His hand lingers at my waist, like letting go would be the real danger.
"Two days," he says. "Three at most."
"I'll be here."
"You better be."
