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Authors: A Kiss in the Dark
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goddammit, counting on seeing her in San Francisco. To
hell with pussyfooting around. He hauled her into his arms a little more
roughly than he intended. "Don't forget me."
Before she could answer, he tilted her chin up and kissed her.
He'd meant it to be a sweet kiss, but, hell, what did he know about tenderness?
Nothing.
His mouth molded over hers, crushing its soft fullness. She
swayed, clutching his shoulders for support, emitting a shocked gasp that
parted her lips. His tongue thrust into the moist heat, seeking hers with
fierce urgency. Her lips moved hungrily against his, her arms now circling his
neck.
She slid her hands into his hair, furrowing her fingers across his
scalp. His sex hardened, ramming against his zipper. Why had he waited all
weekend?
"Mitch," she whispered, her lips against his.
"Another scar from the same fight?"
Aw, hell. Her questing fingers had discovered the third, deepest
scar hidden in the thick hair above his ear. She'd asked about the two scars on
his face, but he'd dodged the question, saying he'd been in a fight. Not the
truth exactly, but close enough for government work.
"Uh-huh," he muttered, then deliberately distracted her
by angling his hips against the notch of her thighs.
"Don't," she whispered. Smiling.
If he'd thought—for a second—she meant no, he would have backed
off, but her arms were still around him, her lips close to his. Even in the
darkness of the moonless night, he saw the passion blazing in her green eyes.
Her lips sought his and he returned her kiss wildly, his hips
churning against hers, pinning her against the side of the car. And she loved
it. Her fingernails scored the back of his neck; her hips pressed against his.
He looped his hand around her long hair, wrapping most of it
around his palm. With a tug he pulled her head back, exposing the soft skin
along her neck. Trailing a series of moist kisses, he worked his way downward
to the deep V of her blouse. His tongue shot into the tight hollow between her
breasts as his hand captured the soft fullness, squeezing slightly.
He tested the shape and texture, teasing the nipple with the pad
of his thumb until it was spiraled tightly. "Oh, Mitch."
He released her hair and took half a step back. She clutched him,
burying her head in the crook of his neck. He had her blouse unbuttoned in a
second. The bra that greeted him was straight out of a lingerie ad. Half cups.
Lacy. It offered Royce's breasts to him like a pagan sacrifice.
"All right, a front-loader." He unhooked the flimsy bra
and cradled her full breasts in his wide-spread palms. He was achingly,
painfully hard now.
He felt Royce's heart slamming against his hand. Her breath
fluttered against his neck in staccato bursts. He bent and kissed her breasts,
sculpting each taut nipple with his tongue.
"The backseat of your Toyota's looking mighty good."
"I hardly know you," she whispered. "It would just
be sex."
"Hey, it works for me." He teased one nipple, sucking
ruthlessly. He raised his head and grinned his bad-boy grin. "You want me.
Don't deny it."
Just then, a car drove into the dark parking lot. Its blaring
lights hit them like a gust of arctic air. Mitch blocked Royce from full view.
She scrambled to cover herself.
"Jee-sus," Mitch muttered. His timing sucked. The spell
had been broken. Royce was inside the car, key in the ignition.
"See you in a month," he yelled as she peeled out of the
parking lot.
CHAPTER
4
By the light of the pink elephant above their booth in the Liquid
Zoo, Paul studied Mitch, who hadn't spoken for several minutes. Obviously,
Mitch's mind was still pondering the incident with Royce five years ago.
"What happened after she left?" Paul prompted.
"It was the month from hell," Mitch said. "The DA
had been out with a heart attack for weeks, and I had a caseload big enough for
ten lawyers. I didn't want to bargain any of them."
Paul noted the disgust in Mitch's voice. Mitch thought plea
bargaining undermined the
hell with pussyfooting around. He hauled her into his arms a little more
roughly than he intended. "Don't forget me."
Before she could answer, he tilted her chin up and kissed her.
He'd meant it to be a sweet kiss, but, hell, what did he know about tenderness?
Nothing.
His mouth molded over hers, crushing its soft fullness. She
swayed, clutching his shoulders for support, emitting a shocked gasp that
parted her lips. His tongue thrust into the moist heat, seeking hers with
fierce urgency. Her lips moved hungrily against his, her arms now circling his
neck.
She slid her hands into his hair, furrowing her fingers across his
scalp. His sex hardened, ramming against his zipper. Why had he waited all
weekend?
"Mitch," she whispered, her lips against his.
"Another scar from the same fight?"
Aw, hell. Her questing fingers had discovered the third, deepest
scar hidden in the thick hair above his ear. She'd asked about the two scars on
his face, but he'd dodged the question, saying he'd been in a fight. Not the
truth exactly, but close enough for government work.
"Uh-huh," he muttered, then deliberately distracted her
by angling his hips against the notch of her thighs.
"Don't," she whispered. Smiling.
If he'd thought—for a second—she meant no, he would have backed
off, but her arms were still around him, her lips close to his. Even in the
darkness of the moonless night, he saw the passion blazing in her green eyes.
Her lips sought his and he returned her kiss wildly, his hips
churning against hers, pinning her against the side of the car. And she loved
it. Her fingernails scored the back of his neck; her hips pressed against his.
He looped his hand around her long hair, wrapping most of it
around his palm. With a tug he pulled her head back, exposing the soft skin
along her neck. Trailing a series of moist kisses, he worked his way downward
to the deep V of her blouse. His tongue shot into the tight hollow between her
breasts as his hand captured the soft fullness, squeezing slightly.
He tested the shape and texture, teasing the nipple with the pad
of his thumb until it was spiraled tightly. "Oh, Mitch."
He released her hair and took half a step back. She clutched him,
burying her head in the crook of his neck. He had her blouse unbuttoned in a
second. The bra that greeted him was straight out of a lingerie ad. Half cups.
Lacy. It offered Royce's breasts to him like a pagan sacrifice.
"All right, a front-loader." He unhooked the flimsy bra
and cradled her full breasts in his wide-spread palms. He was achingly,
painfully hard now.
He felt Royce's heart slamming against his hand. Her breath
fluttered against his neck in staccato bursts. He bent and kissed her breasts,
sculpting each taut nipple with his tongue.
"The backseat of your Toyota's looking mighty good."
"I hardly know you," she whispered. "It would just
be sex."
"Hey, it works for me." He teased one nipple, sucking
ruthlessly. He raised his head and grinned his bad-boy grin. "You want me.
Don't deny it."
Just then, a car drove into the dark parking lot. Its blaring
lights hit them like a gust of arctic air. Mitch blocked Royce from full view.
She scrambled to cover herself.
"Jee-sus," Mitch muttered. His timing sucked. The spell
had been broken. Royce was inside the car, key in the ignition.
"See you in a month," he yelled as she peeled out of the
parking lot.
CHAPTER
4
By the light of the pink elephant above their booth in the Liquid
Zoo, Paul studied Mitch, who hadn't spoken for several minutes. Obviously,
Mitch's mind was still pondering the incident with Royce five years ago.
"What happened after she left?" Paul prompted.
"It was the month from hell," Mitch said. "The DA
had been out with a heart attack for weeks, and I had a caseload big enough for
ten lawyers. I didn't want to bargain any of them."
Paul noted the disgust in Mitch's voice. Mitch thought plea
bargaining undermined the
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