Page 102 of The Price of Forever

I rolled off her, the last thought settling awkwardly inside me. But I didn’t want to think about it now.

“I’m not sure I can move for the rest of the day,” she said, eyes barely open.

“Luckily, you have some time to kill before the club,” I said, coming to my feet. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

“Now that’s VIP service,” she said as I walked to the bathroom. I grabbed a washcloth, running it under warm water. She grinned at me as I eased her legs open and gently wiped at the cum dribbling down her thighs.

“Or is this just a perk because I admitted I love your cock?” she teased.

“Standard procedure if my cock’s been inside you.”

“How on earth are you still single, Seven?” Her tone was teasing, but I could sense the real question buried beneath. Now wasn’t the time to go near that topic, though. I pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee once she was cleaned up.

“Stay here and rest if you want. I’m going to get dressed and head to the gym for a little bit before your shift tonight. I need to run some laps.”

She sighed happily, curling up into a ball. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You sure you don’t need a cuddle buddy?” I was second-guessing my plan. I was all about the aftercare. And the pre and during care, for that matter.

She snuggled deeper. “You go work out. Those abs won’t chisel themselves. Besides, a nap is sounding real good right now.”

“Just promise me you won’t sneak off again like last time.”

She held up two fingers. “Stripper’s honor.”

“Not sure if that’s supposed to make me trust you more or less.”

She swatted at me, but I was already on my way to grab my pre-packed gym bag from the living room. This was the sort of thing I could get used to. Sexy mornings with Jordan in my bed. Work out breaks. And then hitting the city in whatever way the day demanded of me—close protection duties, meeting new clients, or backend office work.

If Jordan was in New York, then I could be in New York. Long-term, even. I’d never envisioned myself settling in a place like Manhattan, but life had a weird way of handing us unexpected twists and turns.

Except what the actual fuck are you talking about? Long-term with Jordan?

My phone vibrated against my thigh as I moved through pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk, distracting me from my thoughts. I power walked the three blocks to the gym as a rule—my warm-up—and didn’t break stride as I checked my phone.

Incoming email: Re: Experienced CPO wanted.

Someone had responded to my latest help wanted ad. My gaze flicked between phone and sidewalk as I skimmed the email, trying to get a feel for who the new applicant was. I caught the most minimal details as I dodged between people and passed by slow-moving groups of tourists.

Liam Henderson. 29. Former NYPD. Marine.

This was sounding promising.

I pocketed the phone until I finished my trek to the gym. Once I reached the steel beamed, glass-walled fitness center, I paused outside the main doors, studying the rest of Liam’s information.

He seemed just as qualified as Chico—possibly more.

Which meant Liam might be the protection officer to take over for me, as I’d planned.

If he works out, I reminded myself. It will take a special new hire to take on your current caseload. I surveyed the street in front of me, the thought settling heavily inside of me.

My current caseload was Jordan. Full stop. I had no higher priority than her right now, and the thought of passing her off to someone else had my gut doing strange flips.

I felt sick. I felt strange. I felt decidedly not well.

But this has been the plan all along. I pocketed the phone, taking slow steps in front of the gym as I mulled over whatever the fuck was happening inside my head right now.

The plan had always been to build the business. To step away from daily protection. To hand over Jordan’s protection to someone else. Liam might be the guy, or someone would fit the bill, and I would continue building my business.

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