When he pushed his old bedroom door open, he realized his mother hadn't changed much. The twin bed that had become too short for him at fifteen sat in the corner, neatly made. His mom had taken down all the posters of heavy metal singers that had covered his walls. She'd left the shelves with all his baseball trophies. They gleamed in the afternoon rays that shone brightly through the single window. Dust motes danced in the beams. The dresser was clean with the exception of a few men toiletries. A brand he wasn't familiar with.

On a hunch he opened the top drawer and then rubbed the back of his neck. There were men's undershirts and underwear, bright, white, and clear as day they weren't his, wrong size. Well I'll be damned.

“Everything all right?” Kezia walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Most definitely. I was just thinking I have an idea where my ma might have gone.” He turned in her arms to look down at her.

“You do?” She swallowed

“You don't have to cover for her. Although given your relationship with her I don't know why you would.”

“Okay.” She rose up on her toes and kissed him. “Can we not talk about this now?”

“I love your brain, Ms. Smythe.” He bent his head to touch her lips and opened his mouth, sliding his tongue past her lips to duel with hers.

He hefted her up without breaking the kiss and walked in the direction of the bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her arms enfolded his neck. Dominic gripped a denim covered cheek in each hand, flexing his fingers on the lusciousness that was her butt. His footsteps thudded on the floor, muffled by the dense carpeting. Their tongues tangled, and he slanted his head to get a better lock on her mouth. He felt one of her hands glide down his back, her long nails scraping his skin through the thin company polo he wore. Then she was pulling his hair, yanking his head back and dropping a row of kisses along his jaw. He closed his eyes, sinking into the pleasure-pain of her nails abrading his scalp.

He missed the bed.

Her back slapped the wall. Her heels dug into his ass, and she slid up, giving him better access to her throat. Dominic traced her collarbone with his tongue to the middle of her chest, kissing his way down the valley of her breasts as he heaved her up with his hands. Kezia's shirt pulled taut, caught between the wall and her back, outlining voluptuous orbs. Her nipples pushed against the material of her clothing, the V-collar dipping perilously low and forcing her mounds to spill over the fabric obstruction. He sucked the soft tissue into his mouth and worked his tongue over it, lapping at it.