Page 90 of Stolen Kisses

The clear covering is carefully peeled away, followed by the small white discs at the entry point. “I’m going to cut this stitch here and then I can remove the tube.”She snips, removes the stitch, and then pulls the drain out. Ifollow its path asit slidesbeneathEm’sbreast before it comes free of her body. My eyes move up to her face to see if she’s okay, but her smile hasn’t changed at all.

Dr.Corriganrepeats the process with the other drain, before covering each opening with a band-aid. “These small holes will heal up on their own in a day or two. You can have a shower without any issues.”She smiles at Em.

Em raises her arms, displaying a slightly pinkish patch where the clear adhesive was protecting the drains. “That feels so much better. Thanks, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. That pinkness from the adhesive will also clear up in a day or two.”She snaps offhergloves, washingherhands again after pushing the trolley of implements out of the way. “You can get redressed now.”

We finish up with Dr.Corriganand make our way out of the surgery.Em’sdemeanor is significantly lighter than it was when she entered the building. I’m incredibly thankful I’m the one with her to share this moment. Holding hands, she swings them back and forward between us. “It feels so great to be rid of the drains.”

“I bet.” Arriving at my truck, I unlock her door and lock the seatbelt in place after my girl gets comfortable. Brushing my lips across her forehead, I ask, “How do you feel about stopping in at the restaurant for lunch?”

Her eyebrows slash down over her eyes, forming creases between them. “Don’t you need to get back to your workshop?”

“Nope. I’ve got time.” Closing her in my truck, I make my way around to the driver’s side and climb in. “Well?”

“I won’t say no. I love your dad’s food.”

I put on a playful pout. “More than mine?”

She laughs. “It’s pretty close. Don’t make me choose.” I love this lightness about her—it’s been missing.

Putting the truck in drive, we head across town to Dad’s restaurant. Em turns the stereo up and starts singing at the top of her voice about a feeling inside her bones going electric. I join in with her, sharing her joy. It certainly beats the heavy silence that filled the truck on the way to the surgery.

* * *

When we enter the restaurant, it takes a moment formyeyes to adjust. OnceIcan see properly,myeyes land on Dad standing near the greeting podium. His face lights up when he realizes who his new patrons are. He immediately engulfs Em in a hug, being careful not to squish her too close. “Emma. So great to see you. You must have lunch.” He kisses each of her cheeks.

“Hello, Mr. Drivas. I hope you don’t mind us dropping in.”

“Of course not. Come through.” He pulls back, taking Emma’s hand to guide her through to the table at the back of the large room that he reserves for special guests. It’s the setting I made when I was younger. “Hello, Son. Good to see you.”

“You too, Dad.” Nice to know I didn’t get forgotten—Iwasstarting to wonder.

“Sit, sit. I’ll get some wine and bring out lunch.” He pulls out Emma’s chairandtucks her in, before moving toward the bar.

“I’m so sorry, I’m choosing not to drink wine anymore.” She looks down at her lap, then back at us. “It’s been recommended for me to avoid or at the very least limit my alcohol intake as it can increase my risk of cancer, and well, since I’ve already had it …” She swallows. “I’m already at an increased risk.”

Dad smiles widely at her. “No problem. I have a lovely bottle of non-alcoholic sweet white wine that tastes just like its alcoholic sister.” He heads off toward the bar with a bounce in his step.

Emma smiles at me with raised brows and wide eyes. We both burst into laughter at the same time. Dad returns with three glasses and the winewhich he pours, before heading into the kitchen. “I guess he’s going to join us for lunch.”

“I guess so.” Emma laughs.

“When is your next appointment with the plastic surgeon?”

“Monday. Do you mind taking me to that appointment, too? I know I’m being abo—”

I cut her off. “Absolutely. You know my days are flexible.” I tip my head forward as though I’m tipping my hat. “I’m at your beck and call.”

She leans forward, across the table. “My beck and call, huh?” That twinkle in her eye is sexy as fuck.

“Anything you need, Peaches. I’m there.” We hold each other’s gaze for a long moment, interrupted only when Dad returns with a spectacularly presentedMezzeplatter. Dips, feta, cucumbers, roasted peppers, marinated artichokes, pita, breadsticks, the works. It looks amazing. He takes his seat and we all take the opportunity to toast Emma’s positive results today.

We spend the next few minutes indulging in the delicious flavors and textures which are so familiar to me. Emma points at the artichoke. “What’s that?”

I use the fork to presenta portionto her. “Marinated artichoke. Tastes a little like young asparagus. Would you like a taste?”

She leans forward, opening her mouth and I slide the vegetable onto her tongue. Her eyes drop closed as she closes her mouth and all I can think about are the times her mouth closed around my dickand her throat swallowed around my shaft.Discreetlyshifting in my seat, I adjust myself to prevent my zipper from digging into my cock.

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