an instant air of warmth and familiarity around them. She angled her head to see him. His eyes flared when they met hers. His smile looked warm, inviting, and intimate.
“Hi,” he whispered.
The silky warmth of his voice drew her into a cocoon of need and desire. Longing swamped her.
She drew in air, taking a moment to compose herself. “Hi, yourself.”
He pitched his voice low, his eyes glimmering with dark sensuality. “You look beautiful.”
When she smiled at the endorsement, something tender and powerful passed between them. Something, she knew, that there might be no coming back from. It took effort for her to keep her voice light. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I guess I clean up okay,” he teased, his lips twitching with amusement.
They shared a private chuckle, and then Sara admitted honestly, “Better than okay, Mitch.” His nearness was playing havoc with her libido, and she suspected it was the same for him. Heat gathered in her body as she worked to keep her passion at bay.
Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he leaned in and whispered, “It’s no firefighter suit, though, right?” When he mentioned the suit, the mental image of him stripping it from his lethally honed body while she watched in heated anticipation had her hormones jumping to attention like an obedient fire cadet.
“It’s better,” she assured him. Then, in a low sultry voice meant to entice, she added, “And probably a lot easier for me to rip off.”
She watched his expression change. Light humor segued to dark desire. His fingers tightened over hers. Sexually frustrated curses rumbled in his throat. Desire and need burned in his blue eyes.
Under his breath he whispered, “Jesus, Sara, you’re going to pay for that.”
She matched his low tone. “I thought you might say that. Good thing I have the rope and paddle all ready.”
Picking his jaw up off the table, Mitch cleared his throat and practically leapt to his feet. “If you’ll all excuse me for a minute…”
Sara sipped her wine. Eyes wide and innocent, she tipped her head up and asked, “Are you okay, Mitch? You look flushed.”
As though flustered, his words came out all jumbled and broken. “I’m. Fine. Running late. Wash up. Busy.”
Sara kept a smile from her face although she was loving the way she affected him. Loved how she could reduce him to speechlessness so easily.
After Mitch returned, the waiter took their orders. With Mitch barely able to form a coherent sentence, Sara turned her attention to Cassie as she and Jenna discussed the details of the lingerie party. Sara took note of the look in Dean’s eyes as he listened to the exchange with heated interest.
A short while later, after eating dessert, they all made plans to head over to the Hose for after-dinner drinks. Sara excused herself. When the group gave her a questioning look, she explained she had work to do.
After everyone agreed that Sara would take the car home and the others would share a cab, since they all planned on having a drink or two, she stepped out into the night, Mitch tight on her heels.
Sara stood back and watched her friends pile into a cab. Mitch moved in beside her. Draped in darkness, she whispered into his ear. “Follow me home.”
Gaze dark, scalding, he looked at her, his eyes serious. His hand closed over hers, warm and strong. He put his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. A moan caught in her throat.
“I don’t have my firefighter suit with me.”
Sara grinned, and in her most sultry voice, she said, “You don’t need it.” She fingered his lapels. “Like I said, this is probably easier for me to rip off.”
His nostrils flared. “Jesus, Sara, do you enjoy torturing me?” he asked, curiosity and excitement in his tone. He shifted his stance as though in agony.
She cocked her head playfully, her eyes full of promise. “Torture? Oh no. What I have planned for you tonight isn’t going to hurt one little bit.” Before she
“Hi,” he whispered.
The silky warmth of his voice drew her into a cocoon of need and desire. Longing swamped her.
She drew in air, taking a moment to compose herself. “Hi, yourself.”
He pitched his voice low, his eyes glimmering with dark sensuality. “You look beautiful.”
When she smiled at the endorsement, something tender and powerful passed between them. Something, she knew, that there might be no coming back from. It took effort for her to keep her voice light. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I guess I clean up okay,” he teased, his lips twitching with amusement.
They shared a private chuckle, and then Sara admitted honestly, “Better than okay, Mitch.” His nearness was playing havoc with her libido, and she suspected it was the same for him. Heat gathered in her body as she worked to keep her passion at bay.
Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he leaned in and whispered, “It’s no firefighter suit, though, right?” When he mentioned the suit, the mental image of him stripping it from his lethally honed body while she watched in heated anticipation had her hormones jumping to attention like an obedient fire cadet.
“It’s better,” she assured him. Then, in a low sultry voice meant to entice, she added, “And probably a lot easier for me to rip off.”
She watched his expression change. Light humor segued to dark desire. His fingers tightened over hers. Sexually frustrated curses rumbled in his throat. Desire and need burned in his blue eyes.
Under his breath he whispered, “Jesus, Sara, you’re going to pay for that.”
She matched his low tone. “I thought you might say that. Good thing I have the rope and paddle all ready.”
Picking his jaw up off the table, Mitch cleared his throat and practically leapt to his feet. “If you’ll all excuse me for a minute…”
Sara sipped her wine. Eyes wide and innocent, she tipped her head up and asked, “Are you okay, Mitch? You look flushed.”
As though flustered, his words came out all jumbled and broken. “I’m. Fine. Running late. Wash up. Busy.”
Sara kept a smile from her face although she was loving the way she affected him. Loved how she could reduce him to speechlessness so easily.
After Mitch returned, the waiter took their orders. With Mitch barely able to form a coherent sentence, Sara turned her attention to Cassie as she and Jenna discussed the details of the lingerie party. Sara took note of the look in Dean’s eyes as he listened to the exchange with heated interest.
A short while later, after eating dessert, they all made plans to head over to the Hose for after-dinner drinks. Sara excused herself. When the group gave her a questioning look, she explained she had work to do.
After everyone agreed that Sara would take the car home and the others would share a cab, since they all planned on having a drink or two, she stepped out into the night, Mitch tight on her heels.
Sara stood back and watched her friends pile into a cab. Mitch moved in beside her. Draped in darkness, she whispered into his ear. “Follow me home.”
Gaze dark, scalding, he looked at her, his eyes serious. His hand closed over hers, warm and strong. He put his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. A moan caught in her throat.
“I don’t have my firefighter suit with me.”
Sara grinned, and in her most sultry voice, she said, “You don’t need it.” She fingered his lapels. “Like I said, this is probably easier for me to rip off.”
His nostrils flared. “Jesus, Sara, do you enjoy torturing me?” he asked, curiosity and excitement in his tone. He shifted his stance as though in agony.
She cocked her head playfully, her eyes full of promise. “Torture? Oh no. What I have planned for you tonight isn’t going to hurt one little bit.” Before she
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