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Ysa pulled a bottle of water from the belt around her waist and took a long sip, eyeing him. “So don’t get caught.”

He frowned. “What?”

She shrugged. “Remember that pretty redhead that worked in the teen unit last summer? She was doing an internship?”

“Vaguely,” he said, not remembering at all.

“I hooked up with her all summer. No one ever had a clue we were seeing each other. You just have to be smart about it.” She sniffed. “And Lord knows, you at least have that going for you.”

He smirked. “At least?”

“I mean, I suppose you’re also reasonably good-looking if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“That would’ve meant more if you hadn’t rolled your eyes while you said it,” Donovan teased. He fished his own water out of the pack he’d strapped to his back and downed half of it. “But this is a different situation. Getting together with someone in another department is one thing. But I’m working with Dr. Rush every day. I’m training her. It’s high risk. Not worth it.”

She closed the cap on her water. “If you say so. I’m not the masochistic sort. I’d get that shit out of my system. Otherwise, think how many years of torture it could be working together with all that unfulfilled lusting? That can’t be healthy.”

Donovan had to fight the grimace. He hadn’t thought about it that way. He’d thought about how tortuous it would be to work together after things ended or went bad. Because of course they would. They always did. He made sure of it. But he hadn’t considered feeling like he was right now long-term, getting that tug in his gut anytime he was near Marin, thinking thoughts he had no business thinking at work. Not sleeping at night because fantasies of her would drift into his mind and not relent until he put his hands on himself. Fuck.

“You’re a ray of frigging sunshine, Ysa.”

She gave him a sparkling grin. “I know, right?”

He groaned and turned to start running again, needing to move, needing to get these thoughts out of his head. Outrun the temptation. Outrun it all.

Ysa fell into step beside him. Staying quiet for a while but her presence loud.

Donovan gritted his teeth. “Why are you encouraging this? I thought you’d be the first one to tell me to back the hell off and not mess around with our jobs.”

Ysa didn’t look his way. She just kept pumping her arms and keeping pace. “You’re a good boss, doc. And a good guy. But you can be . . . intense. Grim. You’ve been different since Dr. Rush came around. I like it.” She gave him a quick glance. “Everybody deserves something or someone that makes them feel alive every now and then. Even you.”

At that, she took a sharp right and veered onto another path, leaving him grinding to a halt and staring after her.

So much for the morning run clearing his head.

He should’ve run faster.

He had a feeling he’d never be able to run fast enough.

17

During her lunch break on Friday, Marin grabbed a cupcake off the dessert station as a reward for making it through her first two weeks and for managing to keep her hands off Donovan after their kiss in her office that second day. To Donovan’s credit, he hadn’t brought up anything and had acted like the conversation and kiss hadn’t happened. He’d mentored her in sessions, walked her through a few tough cases, and had been generally a helpful, professional trainer. They were developing a good, solid working relationship.

It was driving her mad. Clearly, he hadn’t been as affected by that kiss because she definitely hadn’t been able to shake it off so easily. How was she supposed to sit in sessions with him, listening to people talk about sex, seeing him wearing those suits, and dishing out brilliant advice in that voice of his, and not think about the fact that he’d said he wanted her in his bed? Not think about his erection pressing

into her hip or him saying that he’d check off every box on that kinky list for her with enthusiasm?

She’d reverted to being that girl in the back row crushing on the TA. How the hell had she been reduced back to that? So not acceptable.

She slid into a chair at an empty table and set her tray down with more force than necessary, rattling the silverware. Lack of sex was how this had happened. Sex was like sugar. When you cut it out of your diet, you hit a point where you stopped craving it altogether. But as soon as you ate that one little Skittle or licked some icing off a spoon, all you could think about were Skittles and icing. Or naked skin and tangled sheets as the case may be.

She couldn’t think about anything else when she was around Donovan now. Even the simplest thing—Donovan twirling a pen between dexterous fingers, Donovan licking an envelope, Donovan chewing his lip when he was thinking hard about a case. All of it would lead to porn-worthy images in her mind. She was like a teenage boy hyped up on testosterone. She needed a goddamned intervention.

She’d tried to take care of things herself this past week, researching some of the brands of vibrators they kept stocked. But if anything, the nightly orgasm had only amped her up more, making her want the real thing. She was craving more than a release. She was craving experience. With him.

Oriana slid into the spot across from her and plopped her tray down, breaking Marin from her swirling thoughts. “God, I’m so glad it’s lunchtime. Thanks for saving me a spot.”

Marin looked up and glanced around the empty table. “Well, it was a lot of work. I did have to give a few band kids the evil eye, and I think I pissed off Brittany from the cheerleading squad.”


Tags: Roni Loren Pleasure Principle Erotic