He smirked. “Watch the mocking tone, angel. I’m not opposed to locking my office door and reminding you to be respectful. My desk is the perfect height to bend you over for a spanking.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and he reached up, quick as a flash, and pinched my tongue between his thumb and forefinger.
I gasped—or well, it would’ve been a gasp had I had a tongue in working order.
“Not very nice.” He bent his head close and gave my tongue a little pinch before releasing it.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
“Sure you are.” He smiled and slid his hand around the back of my neck to claim my mouth in a heated kiss. His tongue massaged mine where he’d pinched, stroking against it with sensual hunger. My blood went hotter than the coffee in my hands, and I whimpered into the kiss. He broke away after another second and grabbed one of my hands, curling my fingers around the erection tenting his pants. “You’re a hazard to bring to work. You’re getting me hard already.” He stroked my hand along his cock, then released me. “Quick, ask me something decidedly unsexy so we can actually get out of the car without me stabbing anyone.”
I took a breath, trying to get my own responses back in check, and glanced at the building again. “What does 4N stand for?”
I could sense his mood shift instantly in the dip of his brow. His erection flagged almost immediately. Damn, apparently I’d chosen the most unsexy question ever. “It means ‘For Neve.’ Neve was my sister’s name.”
“Oh,” I said quietly.
He blew out a breath and conjured up some version of a smile. “Okay, that totally worked. Guess it’s safe to head in now.”
“Right.” We both climbed out of the car, the ebullient mood from before ebbing drastically.
Once we made our way to the entrance of the building, Foster pulled open the glass door and let me in. The woman at the large rounded desk at the forefront of the modern lobby stood as soon as we were both inside. “Good morning, Mr. Foster.”
“Good morning, Alexis,” he said, his smile polite. “Nice weekend?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
The redhead smiled with open curiosity at me, but Foster didn’t bother to introduce us. He kept walking toward a set of elevators as I let my gaze trail over the shiny plaques that seemed to line the perimeter of the lobby. “What are all these for?”
He glanced over to see what I was referring to. He shrugged. “Awards. Thank-yous.”
Thank-yous to a tech company? That seemed odd.
But when we rode the elevator up to the top floor, I realized quickly that Foster’s company was not your average widget builder. Along the main wall heading toward his office, there were photos of children and the occasional adult. All with their names and dates and times at the bottom. I paused at the last one—a photo of a little girl with very familiar blue eyes. I touched the letters on the frame. Neve Juliette Foster.
Foster stopped his stride and paused with me.
“She’s beautiful,” I said, my heart twisting in my chest as my fingers ran over the date. Age 5—Missing since July 1990.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “She was.”
I didn’t miss the past tense he’d used, and I leaned into him. “What are the other photos for? Are they all missing, too?”
He slid a hand onto my lower back, standing next to me at the wall of photos. “No, those are our happy stories. 4N creates devices and apps to help track children, so that if they disappear, parents can have a tool to find them. We’ve saved a lot of kids with it, and even a few Alzheimer’s patients who have wandered off. These are our successes. The people who we helped.”
I looked at him then back at the substantial amount of pictures, each smiling face shining back. Alive. Home with their families now. “My God, Foster, that’s amazing. I had no idea . . .”
His thumb stroked the base of my spine. “We put up the pictures to remind us why we’re doing this. And to get through the tough days. Because for every happy ending, there’s another child that doesn’t come home at night or another woman who disappears while jogging. People are victimized every day.”
I turned toward him, my heart feeling like it had doubled in weight in my chest. “Which is why you freaked out about me opening my door.”
He released a breath, his shoulders dipping. “Knowing what’s out there and seeing it on a daily basis makes me want to wrap you up in my arms and keep you next to me so that nothing evil ever touches you. That’s why seeing you exposed to any of it, like that asshole Gerald or that guy taking a photo of you, makes me a little crazy.”
I reached for his hand, saddened by what he’d been through and wanting to hug him, but knowing that probably wouldn’t be good to do at his job. I was truly awed at what he did for a living. I’d known he was still actively looking for his sister but had no idea that he’d dedicated his life’s work to it. No wonder he was so paranoid. If I had to face those horrible stories every day at work, I’d want to lock everyone down, too.
“I’m sorry you’ve seen so many ugly things,” I said, squeezing his hand.
“How about you come to my office so I can stare at a beautiful one instead?” He leaned over and gave me a peck on the lips.