diverted her gaze toward the kitchen. "Oh, my gosh, I forgot the chicken."
She raced to the stove and pulled open the broiler door. A blast of heat hit her in the face. "Oh, thank goodness, dinner isn't too badly singed." She flashed a sheepish smile at Alex. "We were going to have chicken Caesar salads, but it looks like now we'll have Cajun-chicken Caesar salads. You know ... blackened like Cajun's prepare their food? Just pretend you're in Louisiana and you'll feel right at home." Hopefully he appreciated the joke because she wasn't sure how much he'd appreciate dinner.
Alex pulled out her chair and stood behind her while she sat. As he pushed her forward and under the table, he bent and grazed the side of her neck with a light kiss, then went and took a seat across from her. An excited shudder passed through her, and she quickly picked up the matches next to the candles. "What good are candles if you don't light them?" Her giggle made her nervousness too apparent...at least to her.
He reached and plucked the matchbook from her hand, and a schoolgirl shiver drifted from the point of contact to her very fingertips. Captivated by his manners, she watched as he lit first one candle and then the other. When he pursed his lips to blow out the igniting flame, she fought the desire to pucker her own and lean across the table for a quick kiss. Mother would be appalled at this new found brazenness.
***
He returned to his dreary apartment and sagged onto the couch. His gut fisted with anger. The two of them were together again. As much as he despised cops, he hated the blonde bitch more. Images of them embracing and sucking each other's tongues turned his stomach. The idiot probably wasn't even aware how she worked her wiles to entice him into a passionate frenzy.
Pounding his fist on his knee, he grimaced, not at the pain but with determination. There was only one way to save his fellow man and it fell directly in his lap.
***
Alex's fork clanked against the bottom of his empty salad bowl, and he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
Cynthia tensed, waiting for him to comment on dinner.
"Do I have any charcoal in my teeth?" He displayed his pearly whites in a wide smile.
Cynthia threw her napkin at him. "Oh, it wasn't that bad ... was it?"
"No." He grinned. "Everything tasted fine. I was just kidding because I knew you were stressing over the chicken."
"I'm usually a pretty good cook, but someone was distracting me." Making a face at him, she stood, cleared the dirty dishes from the table and put them in the sink.
"Are you saying that you burned the chicken because of me?" Alex called after her.
She turned and put her hands on her hips. "Make up your mind. Either it was burnt or it tasted okay. Which is it?"
She started to fill the basin with water, but after holding her hand under the faucet for a time, decided waiting for hot water might take forever. She swished the soap around in the half-filled sink and gave up. Besides, she hadn’t planned to wash them now, anyhow. She had a better way to spend her time.
Alex pushed his chair back and stood. Taking his beer with him, he walked to the sofa. "Let's just forget about the chicken. Really, it tasted great." He patted the cushion next to him. "Come and sit."
Cynthia dried her hands then walked to the divan. Alex's arm rested along the back, a definite invitation to snuggle. She sat and pulled her feet up, tucked them beneath her and leaned back in the crook of his arm. "I really am sorry the chicken got a little overdone. Promise you won't hold it against me."
He closed his hand over her shoulder. "The only thing I plan to hold against you is me."
"Oh, really?" she said, not sure if he kidded her or not.
He put his beer on the table and pulled her into an embrace. "Yes, really.” The sexy timbre of his voice made her shiver.
Before she could speak, he kissed her.
Her eyes closed and her lips parted to allow him access. She shuddered when
She raced to the stove and pulled open the broiler door. A blast of heat hit her in the face. "Oh, thank goodness, dinner isn't too badly singed." She flashed a sheepish smile at Alex. "We were going to have chicken Caesar salads, but it looks like now we'll have Cajun-chicken Caesar salads. You know ... blackened like Cajun's prepare their food? Just pretend you're in Louisiana and you'll feel right at home." Hopefully he appreciated the joke because she wasn't sure how much he'd appreciate dinner.
Alex pulled out her chair and stood behind her while she sat. As he pushed her forward and under the table, he bent and grazed the side of her neck with a light kiss, then went and took a seat across from her. An excited shudder passed through her, and she quickly picked up the matches next to the candles. "What good are candles if you don't light them?" Her giggle made her nervousness too apparent...at least to her.
He reached and plucked the matchbook from her hand, and a schoolgirl shiver drifted from the point of contact to her very fingertips. Captivated by his manners, she watched as he lit first one candle and then the other. When he pursed his lips to blow out the igniting flame, she fought the desire to pucker her own and lean across the table for a quick kiss. Mother would be appalled at this new found brazenness.
***
He returned to his dreary apartment and sagged onto the couch. His gut fisted with anger. The two of them were together again. As much as he despised cops, he hated the blonde bitch more. Images of them embracing and sucking each other's tongues turned his stomach. The idiot probably wasn't even aware how she worked her wiles to entice him into a passionate frenzy.
Pounding his fist on his knee, he grimaced, not at the pain but with determination. There was only one way to save his fellow man and it fell directly in his lap.
***
Alex's fork clanked against the bottom of his empty salad bowl, and he wiped his mouth with his napkin.
Cynthia tensed, waiting for him to comment on dinner.
"Do I have any charcoal in my teeth?" He displayed his pearly whites in a wide smile.
Cynthia threw her napkin at him. "Oh, it wasn't that bad ... was it?"
"No." He grinned. "Everything tasted fine. I was just kidding because I knew you were stressing over the chicken."
"I'm usually a pretty good cook, but someone was distracting me." Making a face at him, she stood, cleared the dirty dishes from the table and put them in the sink.
"Are you saying that you burned the chicken because of me?" Alex called after her.
She turned and put her hands on her hips. "Make up your mind. Either it was burnt or it tasted okay. Which is it?"
She started to fill the basin with water, but after holding her hand under the faucet for a time, decided waiting for hot water might take forever. She swished the soap around in the half-filled sink and gave up. Besides, she hadn’t planned to wash them now, anyhow. She had a better way to spend her time.
Alex pushed his chair back and stood. Taking his beer with him, he walked to the sofa. "Let's just forget about the chicken. Really, it tasted great." He patted the cushion next to him. "Come and sit."
Cynthia dried her hands then walked to the divan. Alex's arm rested along the back, a definite invitation to snuggle. She sat and pulled her feet up, tucked them beneath her and leaned back in the crook of his arm. "I really am sorry the chicken got a little overdone. Promise you won't hold it against me."
He closed his hand over her shoulder. "The only thing I plan to hold against you is me."
"Oh, really?" she said, not sure if he kidded her or not.
He put his beer on the table and pulled her into an embrace. "Yes, really.” The sexy timbre of his voice made her shiver.
Before she could speak, he kissed her.
Her eyes closed and her lips parted to allow him access. She shuddered when
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