Damon's POV
Maya had been traveling, and those two days without her had been torture. I was irritable and on edge the entire weekend, my mood darkening with each passing hour. By Monday, the police station felt like a prison cell.
The workday dragged endlessly—mountains of paperwork and minimal action in the field. My mind kept wandering to Maya, counting the minutes until I could race home to her. When I finally arrived and found her already there, relief washed over me like a tidal wave. I couldn't help myself—I lifted her off the ground in one swift motion, crushing her against my chest, desperate to feel her warmth against me. Words seemed unnecessary as I claimed those sweet lips that had haunted my thoughts during our separation, holding that body that drove me to distraction.
I needed a shower after my shift, but I needed her more. I carried her to the bathroom while continuing our kiss, thrilled when she matched my intensity with her own passion.
