Chapter 4
“You’re driving me insane.” His eyes were wild with lusty desire just for her.
“Not a very long trip,” she teased as she plunged the tip of her taut tongue into his cock’s eye and then relaxed it to slip her lips around the helmet and suck.
“God, woman.” He grabbed a fistful of hair and jerked her mouth free. “I want in your hot cunt now.”
“And they say chivalry’s dead.”
Cordy slammed the novel down and humphed. “No, apparently just good smut.”
Of course she might be a bit prejudiced. After being on the receiving end of the most romantic, tender, passionate evening of her life, melodramatic romance novels just seemed so cold and…well…nasty now. Angel hadn’t treated her like a hooker. Yeah, he’d been in charge, but he hadn’t ordered her around and talked to her like she was trash. He had taken control and gently guided her to follow his movements, but anything she had asked, he’d given her.
And the words he’d used. Nothing as crass as cunt or pussy. Every word was like a tender caress or, in the most heated moments, a caring plea. He talked to her like she was…a lover.
Oh, God. Please just let me be really horny. That’s it! I’m not used to all this affection. All the sudden touching and kissing has just awakened my sleeping slut. My head is spinning because all that panting left me oxygen deprived. And I’m shivering because of this damn drafty hotel, not because I’m remembering Angel whispering that I’m beautiful and sexy and imagining his cool touch on my breasts and between my thighs and on my…. I am NOT falling in love with him. I can’t, because…duh…he couldn’t possibly love me. I’m nothing like Buffy. And since she was the be-all, end-all of his existence, there’s no way he could love someone so far from his type. And, I am NOT going to be the one with the rebar in her heart this time.
“Right, Cor. Got any other rivers in Egypt you want to float on?”
“You going to Egypt?”
Reality bites. God, the biting! Shit that was hot.
“Cordy?” Fred poked her arm timidly.
Cordy jumped and grabbed her racing heart. “Fred! I didn’t see you right there in front of me staring at me like I’m crazy. Guess I was someplace else.”
“Like Egypt? ‘Cause you said…”
“Yes, I know I said Egypt. But, no, I was just thinking really hard about something so I was ‘that’ someplace else. Not a different country.”
Cordy appeared tired and disturbed and Fred had a pretty good idea why. “Are you okay? You look a little worn out.”
Put on the fake smile and run like hell. “I’m fine! Just had a rough night in bed.” Up and at the coffee maker in record time, Cordy missed Fred’s mumbled reply.
“Yeah, I heard.” Dogging Cordy as she walked around the counter with her coffee, Fred almost scraped the seer’s heels when she stopped abruptly at the cocktail table to pick up a magazine.
“Fred, are you following me?”
“No! Well, just now, yeah. But in general, no. I was just wondering what kind of a rough night you had. Because I know a little something about rough nights in bed, and maybe I can give you some pointers about how to, ya know, get over the hump.”
Whoo, doggy, and what a hump it is. Sorry, Fred, not the kind of hump you can help me with. And I’m not sure I want to get over it. On it, you betcha. Dammit, Cordy. Not everything is about Angel’s penis. Mmmm…but it should be…
The show that played behind her closed eyes was triple X. Cordy’s contented smile was clear evidence that she was happy in that hot spot in her mind, and she didn’t hear another word Fred droned.
“Cordy? Cordy are you asleep? I’ve heard about people being able to sleep standing up but I’ve never seen it happen. Course if you’re asleep, you can’t really hear me or talk to me to tell me you’re asleep, so it’s pretty pointless for me to stand here and talk to a standing, sleeping person. So, um, I’m just going to go find Gunn and see if he’s awake. Okay, then. See ya later. Don’t fall over.”
This is bad. Really, really bad. Fred backed away from the entranced woman and bounded up the stairs to call for backup. No contraption she could invent would be able to slice and dice this monster.
***
“I’m not crazy!”
“Shush, girl. You want to wake the undead?” Gunn pulled the fidgety physicist around the potted palm and into the shadowed hallway by the basement door.
“Now calm down and tell me this crazy ass theory again.”
Fred sighed and scrunched her shoulders and forehead simultaneously. She wasn’t really a patient person despite all yammering evidence to the contrary.
“Angel and Cordelia are up to somethin’, and I don’t think it’s a midnight Monopoly competition. At least not any Monopoly I’ve ever played. Unless Angel was trying to fit that little metal top hat on his head when he screamed ‘Oh, God, it’s so tight’ and Cordy was mounting that tiny horse piece when she yelled “I could ride you all night.” I know I’m not like the most experienced ho in the world…”
“Whoa, whoa. You cannot say ‘ho’.” Gunn was already flushed by the Angel and Cordy quotes falling from Fred’s mouth but the word ‘ho’ sent him over the this-is-not-happening edge.
“That’s not the important part here, and why can’t I?”
“Because coming from your innocent lips it can only mean a tool used to plant turnips.”
“Oh. I get that. You think my lips are innocent?” The unwanted hot pink flash covered her cheeks and chest as she shyly avoided his eyes.
Suddenly pinned to the wall with his words, he couldn’t look at her and shuffled his huge booted feet softly. “Uh, yeah, I do.” Could this girl be any cuter?
The moment was shattered by Fred’s uncanny ability to shift gears and thoughts with seemingly no rhyme or reason.
“Food! That’s how I found out. Maybe it’s left over from three o’clock feedings as a baby, but I wake up starving every night and raid the kitchen. Two nights ago I went to get a snack and heard music coming from Angel’s room and thought I heard Cordy’s voice. I didn’t think much about it figurin’ maybe it was just the radio, but last night there was no mistakin’ both of them. I mean they were loud, Charles, and what they were saying was…well…where I come from you could get five to ten for just thinkin’ about doin’ that stuff.”
“Okay, say you’re right. What’s the problem? If the two of them want to take care of business, I say more power to ’em.”
“Charles! This is Angel. You know. The vampire with the curse? Cordy told me all about it. Maybe you don’t care if the Scourge of Europe pays a visit, but I’m bunkin’ just down the hall from him so excuse me if I’m a little jumpy about possibly dying or undying dependin’ on if he’s just peckish or peckish and horny. Although I guess Cordy would be the first to go so he’d probably get the horniness factor satisfied with her and just break my scrawny neck. I guess I should be thankful for small favors.”
She had worked herself into a wide-eyed, bobbing-head frenzy at the thought of death by Angelus. Grabbing her shoulders, Gunn shook her gently to get her to shut up and look at him.
“Fred! Okay, I get it. Calm down, okay? If what you’re saying is true, then Angelus should’ve already shown himself. I don’t know for sure, but I’d bet Barbie was more than capable of giving Angel one moment of perfect happiness.”
“I think he’d have to be really, truly in love with her to lose his soul. So, maybe he’s not in love with her. Yet. But, if they’re bumpin’ uglies now, it won’t be long before he will be.”
“Okay, first, there’s just nothing you can call sex that sounds right coming from your mouth, so stop trying. Second, you could be right. Angel’s pretty stubborn and it’d be just like him to not admit to himself, much less to anybody else, that he was in love. So, what do you think we should or could do about it?”
“Nothing. I mean we shouldn’t say anything to them yet. I wouldn’t know what to say. Not without evidence anyway. I was thinkin’ we should just watch them today and see if they act…ya know…weird around each other.”
“And then what? Get them both fitted with chastity belts? I don’t know about convincing Angel to cool it, but I do know I will NOT be anywhere near this city when somebody tries to tell Cordy what she can and cannot do. Good luck with that, Fred.”
Trying to bolt from the conversation, Gunn was jerked back in by Fred’s surprisingly quick vise-like grip on his wrist.
“Charles! This is serious. You don’t have to talk to them, just help me keep an eye on them today. If they slip up, then we’ll talk to Wesley about what to do next. Okay?”
Women have it easy and men are easy. At least with these two at this moment. All it took was the pouty lip, the upswept pleading eyes, and that heart-tugging head tilt to make a towering and resolute man of steel collapse into a molten puddle of compliance.
With a sigh and an eye roll, he gave up. “Damn! What do you want me to do?”
***
“Yo, dawg. If I wasn’t such a nice vampire killer, you’d been about ten times more dusty than you are right now. Where is your head, man?”
Angel’s chest heaved. The training with Gunn wasn’t going well. Actually it was going great for Gunn, since he’d narrowly missed being staked numerous times at his hands. Too bad he couldn’t tell him his excuse for being so out of it. Where his head was had nothing to do with wooden stakes and everything to do with woodies. Specifically, the one he got every time his mind drifted back to last night.
**So, are you going to tell him or am I? Hey, Gunn, my man! Get a load of the load in Angel’s pants. That’s where his head is.**
I really don’t need your input right now.
**I haven’t even started. You will pay for cutting me off last night.**
“Sorry, Gunn. I’m just off my game today, I guess. I’ve got some things on my mind.”
Gunn relaxed his stance sensing an opening to find out if Fred’s theory had any merit. “Yeah? Like what? Something I can help you with?”
“I don’t think so. It’s something I’ve got to figure out on my own.”
**Like that’ll ever happen. Tell me one thing you’ve figured out on your own so far.**
You mean besides I don’t need you to make a woman scream.
**You call that screaming? Please. It ain’t a scream unless the whole village wakes up and chases you with pitchforks.**
Something clicked in Gunn’s mind. Maybe this won’t be so hard after all.
“You know…the last time you were so distracted that you couldn’t whip my ass twelve ways from Sunday, it was because of a woman. Who is she?”
Flustered, Angel jerked his head to stare at his inquisitor’s quizzical expression.
Shit. What do I do now?
**Are you asking me? Because, last I heard I wasn’t any part of this.**
Fine. You want to be the broody one now?
**Sure, why not. You make ’em scream and I’ll sulk. I need a break anyway. By the way, the man asked you a question which I can’t wait to hear the answer to. Do I have time to fix a refreshing beverage?**
Without his demon backing him up, Angel felt defenseless. “Huh?”
“I said, who is she?”
“Who’s who?”
“The woman that’s gonna get you killed if you don’t stop obsessing about her. C’mon man. Talk to me.”
**You know, this brooding thing is really working for me. I can see why you got so addicted to it. It’s fuckin’ great not have to deal with anything. It’s so…peaceful. Want a bonbon?**
Angel was seething with hatred for his demon and fear that he was going to lose all control and blurt out everything to Gunn. But, then the thought of Cordelia slicing off his flaccid penis in retaliation for betraying her privacy tied his tongue into a tangle of knots.
“Uh…errr…humph. Woman? No…not….uhhh….ohmygodisthatthetime?” Angle slammed his sword in the cabinet with the other weapons causing them all to noisily crash to the floor in a metallic heap. Not bothering to clean up his mess, he flew up the basement steps in a flash. “Sorry, Gunn, gotta go. Thanks for the…uhhh…you know…fighty stuff…”
Gunn just stood dumbfounded. “‘Fighty stuff’? Oh, he’s got it bad.”
***
Cordelia was practically skipping and every once in awhile she’d giggle to herself. Well, why not? She was going to make her vampire fall in love with her, and she was understandably giddy about it.
After several hours of torturing herself with the reruns of what Angel did to her body last night, she finally came to a conclusion. She wanted him. No more ‘what ifs’. No more living in Buffy’s shadow. It was good that she was totally different from the slayer. That hadn’t worked out for either of them, so why would he want a duplicate anyway?
The problem wasn’t Buffy. It was her. It was how Angel saw her. She was his seer and his best friend. The person who drooled during a vision, served him blood, patched his wounds and dusted. She had to get him to see her as a woman. Through fresh eyes. Someone new…mysterious…hot…totally desirable. A stranger.
She’d rewritten the letter at least five times and was finally satisfied. Placing the crisp white envelope on Angel’s so-called desk propped against his pencil holder, she sashayed toward the exit waving as she left.
“Goodnight Wes, I’m leaving,” she shouted not waiting for a response from his Watcher’s cave. As she passed Fred and Gunn on the pouf, she said her goodbyes but then stopped and turned back.
“Oh, Fred. When Angel wakes up from his luxury nap, will you make sure he gets the note I left on his desk tonight. It’s kind of important.”
“Sure, Cordy. Night!”
“Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Cor,” Gunn said as she floated out the door.
They waited a beat before they looked at each other and then both looked toward the office.
“You think it’s glued shut?” Fred asked.
“Only one way to find out, Sherlock.”
Gunn blocked Wes’s view of Fred’s evil invasion of privacy. He had a little problem with sneaking around like this, but if it meant keeping Angelus from killing the people he cared about, it was worth it.
Fred’s fingers trembled as she quietly fumbled with the merely inserted flap. It was difficult to open the blasted stiff paper while trying to keep an eye out for an approaching vampire and avoid paper cuts at the same time. Snooping was nerve-wracking business and this was just spying on friends. I’d be a wreck if this was a real case and I was possibly going to get whacked by the Mafia guy I was investigatin’. I don’t know how Angel does it.
Finally the flap was freed and she slipped the folded note out. Four eyes grew steadily wider as Gunn read the note over Fred’s shoulder. When they reached the end both gasped. Fred turned to Gunn and silently mouthed “Oh, my God.” He nodded his agreement with that assessment and both jumped when they heard Angel’s hooves pounding down the steps.
Gunn quickly moved in front of Fred to block Angel’s possible view. Fred hurriedly put the note back in the envelope and placed it where she’d found it just as Angel rounded the corner of the weapons cabinet.
“Hey, Angel. Have a good nap?” Gunn asked, rather over enthusiastically.
“Yeah, it was…you know…a nap. Always good I guess. Hey, Fred. I didn’t see you back there.”
Fred peeked out from behind Gunn’s shoulder. “Hi. Glad to hear your nap was good and nappy.”
Angel ignored her strange comment being more interested in finding out about the missing member of the group. “Where’s Cordy. Did she leave already?”
Fred scooted around Gunn and tried to nonchalantly glide back to the pouf. “Uh, yeah, she just left. She told me to tell you there’s a note for you on your desk.”
“Oh, thanks.” Angel and Gunn did a little two-step as Angel tried to get around him to reach the message. He was sure it must be about tonight since they hadn’t been alone long enough to discuss any plans earlier.
**A little anxious are we?**
I thought you were brooding. You obviously need more practice.
**Shoot me. It’s fucking boring.**
He didn’t feel like arguing with his demon right now. The letter was holding his complete attention.
Stranger,
You don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you. And I like what I see. I like how you look, the way you move, your voice. But, your smile…I’ve drowned a hundred times in your smile. Meet me tonight and leave me breathless. Night Moves…eleven o’clock. Wait for me at the bar. I promise you…unforgettable.
**I’ll give her some strange. You will NOT hold me back tonight. I AM getting a piece…**
Yes, you are.
**I am? Ahem. I mean, damn straight I am.**
But only a piece! We need to ease her into the whole demon sex aspect slowly.
**I think you’re totally misjudging our little seer, but I’ll play nice tonight. Now, let’s talk wardrobe. I think this outing screams for leather.**
Oh, I totally agree.
Gunn and Fred sat watching as Angel read and then seemingly reread the letter. Unfortunately, his back was toward them so they didn’t see his initial confused expression. Nor did they see that change into satisfied comprehension and finally into excited anticipation.
What they did see was his body shake as if he suddenly had shivers. Next his head rose and his shoulders straightened. He stared at the ceiling a few times and shook his head up and down before finally slipping the note into his pants’ pocket and coughing to clear his throat. By the time he turned to them, his face looked typically noncommittal. He gave them a small smile and some covering chat as he tried to appear casual about leaving again so soon.
“Well, I think I’ll just go back up to my room. Everything seems quiet down here. So, I guess I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Have a good night.”
“Uh, Angel. Why don’t you stay with us and we can get a movie or play some cards or something?” Fred wasn’t just being polite or testing him. She desperately didn’t want him to meet Cordy. That way led to bad, bad things and all of them were deadly.
“Yeah, man. Maybe some Bruce Willis “Die Hard” action or you can clean me out at poker.” Gunn was just as desperate to keep him away from Cordy’s unforgettable evening.
Angel waved them off and said as he vanished, “Thanks, but I’ve got a book I’ve been dying to read, and I’m in the mood to really get into it. So you guys have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I know what kinda book he’s gonna read. The kind that starts with him doin’ the wild thing and ending up the wild thing.”
“Fred, please stop talking about sex. It’s really freaking me out. And, I think it’s time we told Wes about this.”
***
Night Moves was not what she’d expected. For some reason, Fred thought it would be dark and smoky, with a piano player or small jazz quartet in a corner. It was difficult in this trendy hole to find a secluded, shadowed corner for her and Gunn to be inconspicuous in.
They’d gotten there at 10:30, well ahead of Angel and Cordy, so they could scope out the place and find the best vantage point from which to observe. It had to be out of the way, as dark as possible and far enough away from the bar that Angel’s highly developed nose wouldn’t catch a whiff of them. Luckily, there was a balcony perpendicular to the bar which gave enough shelter for them to feel comfortable sleuthing from.
“Why exactly are we here again? We both heard Wes say that the curse isn’t a problem any more, so…again…our purpose here is what?”
“Oh, like you’ve never lied to get into some woman’s pants before.” Fred rolled her eyes. Men are so dense sometimes.
“Fred, Angel wouldn’t lie about that. He doesn’t want Angelus coming out any more than the rest of us, and he for sure wouldn’t put Cordy’s life in danger just to get some nooky.”
“Okay, maybe it’s not a lie, but it could definitely just be wishful thinkin’. Wesley said that Angel was the one who told him it wasn’t a problem. There’s no proof. Right now it’s just a theory. A theory made up by a man who hasn’t had sex in a long time. As a scientist, I can definitely say there are some major flaws with Angel’s research methodology.”
Gunn beamed at the tiny Texan. He adored her brain and the little bean head that surrounded it.
“And, I don’t think anyone, especially Angel, would ever forgive us if his awfully convenient hypothesis-that-allows-me-to-have-sex was proved wrong and Cordy died because we just took his word for it.” She punctuated the finality of her remarks by taking a quick swig from her drink, her nose scrunching as Wild Turkey burned all the way down her throat.
“Okay, you’re right. But, I still don’t know what we’re going to do except watch. I mean I am definitely not doing any peeping tom action once they start to…you know.”
“Bang like a shithouse door in a gale?”
“Fred! My, God woman. I am totally deaf now.”
“Quiet, Charles. There’s Angel.”
Their eyes immediately focused on the manpire of the evening as he worked his way through the crowd to the bar.
***
The stranger immediately noticed the music. It was too loud and too upbeat. The techno trash wasn’t appropriate. It was hard…fast…cold…apish. The lights were bright, harsh flashing strobes of yellow, pink and blue like a disturbed clown running at lightning speed around the room. Too tacky…ugly…common.
The mass of dancing, writhing humanity around him smelled of hot, coursing blood too close to the surface. The weight of it assaulted him and left him dizzy. Immediately he motioned the bartender for a whiskey straight up and was relieved to have something to hold to focus all of his senses on.
He took a sip and let the warm, amber swill over his cool tongue before allowing it to coat his throat and heat his chest. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on the sensation within and left the torrent of discordant stimuli around him fade into white noise.
A moment later he knew. She was there. Her unique scent pierced his meditative state and drew his body to the right and its origin. He opened his eyes and found hazel jewels floating towards him.
She was the total antithesis of her surroundings. A black pearl among glass beads.
Her music was smooth…slow…hot…sophisticated. Her essence shown of pure class…stunning beauty…royalty.
The silk, violet slip dress swayed with her hips and defined her thighs with every step. Excess fabric pooled perfectly across her breasts, forming a natural ‘V’ between them revealing just the right amount of cleavage. The hem cut several inches above her knees exposed enough leg to confirm that the part that was hidden was just as delectable. And, from the brief moments of side view that he glimpsed as she weaved through the crowd, he was certain her back was totally bare and he burned to touch it.
Every male within sniffing distance had raised their noses in her direction as she passed, but most had immediately sensed her superiority and settled for less. A few foolishly allowed their egos to lead them, but she cleverly and immediately sent them back to their caves to recover from her rebuke.
Watching her approach – her eyes shining with confidence; her lavender lips glistening from her own moisture; her dark mane grazing satin shoulders; her graceful body surging with life; the laughing, gentle way she handled the unwanted suitors – he understood now why she had chosen this place. She wanted him to see who she truly was. She absolutely glowed of all that was rare and special against this black sea of banality. It shocked him how blind he’d been and how easy it was at this moment to see the truth.
The girl he once knew was now a magnificent woman. A woman who was a stranger. As long as they’d known each other, as much as he thought he knew her, he now realized he knew nothing. Nothing about this unique work of art before him. He made up his mind that his goal for tonight and possibly the rest of his life was to study each and every brushstroke and hue that created her.
***
He was there. At the bar waiting for her. Tall. Dark. Strong. Confident but not vain. Piercing black eyes beneath an ancient brow that saw everything and wanted more. Strong arms and proud chest were covered by flimsy, maroon fabric that clung to those features but then flowed freely untucked at his waist. Black leather hugged muscular thighs and a tight rear end that her hands longed to squeeze.
He was the epitome of masculinity and her femininity ached to be near it.
Crossing the playing field toward him, the crowd began to part knowing as she did that he was the chosen one. He commanded her attention and she granted it, watching his every move. Shoulders back, head tilted seductively toward her, she floated closer on the hot air passing between them.
Their meeting was thunderous. Too pressure systems colliding, hot and cold, clashing with lightening and sonic booms. No words were needed. A massive hand was proffered and then wrapped around delicate, accepting fingers.
The dance of strangers began.
***
The heat radiated off Fred’s cheeks, and the makeshift cardboard coaster fan she used to cool down with sent the moist air slamming into Gunn’s face.
“Oh, my God. Did you see that? It’s like watching a really good porn movie. And that was just them looking at each other. I’m burning up. Are you hot?”
Gunn wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was definitely hot, but not because of Angel and Cordy. Well, maybe a little because of them, but only because they jump started his own timid desires.
“Yeah, I’m pretty warm. Have you really watched porn movies before?”
She tore her eyes from the couple and looked at his shocked face. She giggled softly saying, “Charles, I’m not a nun.” Her heated cheeks now flushed pink as she turned back to find the two strangers. Spying them again, the sight of their meshed bodies slowly swaying totally in opposition to the music and frenzy around them made her gasp.
“I can’t believe how hot they are. Look at them, Charles. He’s dancing with her and they just…fit. They’re just so beautiful together. I don’t think they’ve taken their eyes off each other for one second.”
“I know just how he feels.”
Fred turned to see Charles resting his cheek in his palm, his elbow propped on the table staring at her with the most mischievous, loving expression she’d ever seen a man send in her direction.
She couldn’t help the happy tingle in her stomach moving up and spreading across her face until her lips drew back and a nervous laugh escaped through them. “Oh, my.”
***
The suitor held her right hand cupped to his chest and his other hand parked, for the time being, on the base of her bare spine. He was right. The dress dipped impossibly low in the back, the rays of her sun jutting up behind the seam. It would be so easy to slip beneath the fabric and run his finger between her cheeks and cup her firm rear, but he actually had other things on his mind right now.
“Republican or Democrat?”
She had expected questions, but politics? That one never really made the list of prepared topics of discussion. Besides, right now all she could concentrate on was the gentle way he held her hand to his chest, the chill of his palm on her back and how much she wanted to slip her other hand beneath that shirt and feel every inch of his torso.
“Uh, Independent.”
Of course. She’s not really a follower.
“Roses or orchids?”
“Between those, orchids. But I’m a calla lilies girl all the way.”
A death flower for the most alive person I know. Smooth, graceful, and atypical. She can still surprise me.
“Atom Ant or Super Chicken?”
She threw her head back and the most relaxed, carefree laugh he’d ever heard erupted from her chest. He had to slide his hand up her back to keep her from tipping over. Pulling her back to him, her to-die-for smile stared up at him as her laughter gradually subsided.
Then she did something he thought he’d never see or hear. She sang the whole Super Chicken theme song with cackling sound effects and all. She may have lost points on the regal scale with that, but she definitely upped her scores on the unpredictable and funny as hell meters.
It was his turn to throw caution to the wind and the first real laugh he’d experienced in years burst forth. It was short but loud and heartfelt. Her eyes widened as did his as the unexpected and unusual sound hit both their ears. Then they both fell out, hugging and chortling together, their bodies shaking in delight.
Gulping for air, the woman tried to speak. “My turn, my turn. Um, let’s see. Oh! Dickens or Dumas?”
“Dumas. But I’m more into philosophical treatises, like Burke, or the classicists like Dante.”
His fingers slowly trailed down her spine and snuggled her once again at the base, pulling her closer into his gently moving hips.
Okay, do I feel stupid. Guess I shouldn’t ask Sidney Sheldon or Danielle Steele. Oh, boy, what is he doing to my back?
“Martin or Lewis?” she asked once she could concentrate again.
“Definitely Martin”
I can work with that. Hot Italian crooner…yum.
Her fingertips grazed his hard, leather clad butt as she slipped her hand beneath his shirt and slowly rubbed her bare palm up his smooth back.
“France or Italy?”
He closed his eyes not to think but to feel more intensely her hand on his skin and his hand on hers. “Mmmm…uh…France has its nice spots, but overall I’ve got to go with Italy.” He opened his eyes when a thought did occur to him. “Have you ever been?”
“A few times. I love Florence.”
“Me, too. We should go sometime.” He’d momentarily forgotten the premise of the evening.
The sweetness of the simple invitation caught her off guard. He’d never wanted to go to the corner store with her before, much less half way around the globe. She thought about instantly taking him up on the offer, but she wanted to keep the strangers in the night theme going. So, instead she smiled shyly and said, “Maybe. After we get to know each other a lot better.”
“Speaking of that, you haven’t told me your name yet.” Picking the game back up, he was now extremely curious what she would call herself. He couldn’t imagine her with any name other than…
“Huh-uh. No names. Not tonight.”
His eyebrow arched intrigued. Then a dirty idea emerged, and he couldn’t stop himself from saying it. His head bent forward and his voice deepened as he whispered in her ear, “But, if you don’t tell me, what name am I going to scream out during the unforgettable portion of the evening?”
His lips tickled her ear and she shivered and squirmed against his cheek.
Huskily whispering back, she taunted, “You’ll only be calling out one name tonight. God.”
Oh, God.
Pleasantly surprised, he pulled back and saw the lusty, salacious wetness in her eyes and had to take a breath. Just then, the music faded. Dropping their hands from his chest, the man pulled her toward the bar. “I need a drink.”
**Fuck it. I’m ready. Let’s go.**
Not yet. We just got here. Just a little longer.
**Fuck, damn, shit, hell! You know, it doesn’t matter what color she likes or where she gets her hair done. You’re going to fuck her whether you know that crap or not.**
Know your prey. I learned that from you.
**I suck.**