Incendiary

Chapter 9

At the moment Kristi considered phoning Patrick to call it off, the doorbell rang and her time for chickening out was gone. She grabbed her blazer and her purse, pulled open the door...and stared. Patrick Hayes was good looking in his policeman's uniform. He was good looking in the jeans and sweaters he wore at McNally's. But there was good looking and then there was good looking! The man in her doorway might as well have had s*x stamped across his forehead.

He wore a blue collared shirt, open at the throat, chinos, and a navy blazer. The shirt picked up the deep-blue of his eyes, eyes that had little flames of heat dancing in them and a look that said, I want to lick you all over.

Kristi shivered, the walls of her p***y pulsed and throbbed, and her n*****s hardened as a little tingle shot through them. It had been far too long since she'd gotten that feeling from a man rather than from her stash of toys. She had to mentally restrain herself from licking her lips.

It seemed, however, Patrick had no such restraint. He ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip as his eyes widened.

"Damn, Kristi. I knew you were a knockout, but hellfire, lady. You are f*****g gorgeous."

She couldn't help the little thread of pleasure that wiggled through her. "Um, thank you."

He let his eyes roam the length of her again, taking in every inch from her head to her feet and back up.

"We should go." His voice was husky. "If not, I won't be responsible for what happens."

A wash of pleasure consumed her. How long had it been since a man-any man-had said anything like that? Four years, she thought. Four years that she'd locked herself away behind walls. Tonight, they were probably going to come tumbling down, and she wondered if she was prepared to handle it.

She smiled at Patrick, let him help her with her blazer then locked her front door. He guided her with his hand on her arm toward a dark-green SUV sitting at the curb.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he helped her into the vehicle.

"It's a surprise." He climbed behind the wheel, looked at her, and grinned. "Don't you like surprises?"

"I used to."

"Well, let's hope you enjoy them again."

They rode silently through the quiet residential streets, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. They hadn't gone far before Patrick reached over and took her hand. He squeezed it gently and held onto it, the contact leaving a little tingle on the surface of her skin, maintaining the contact until they came to a neighborhood cluster of businesses. They were all closed except the one at the far end, a beacon of light in the otherwise dark center. A discreet sign over the door read simply The Bistro.

"I understand they have excellent food here." Patrick pulled into a parking spot and turned off the ignition. "But before we go in, there's one thing I have to do. I can't wait any longer."

Before she could even ask him what he had in mind, he had her seat belt unbuckled and had pulled her as close to him as the console permitted. He threaded his long fingers through the waves of her hair, cupping her head and holding it in place as his mouth came down on hers.

The moment his lips touched hers, heat washed through her. Her pulse began beating so hard, she wondered if he could hear it. And if she'd thought her n*****s and her p***y throbbed before, now she felt as if her entire body thrummed, heat searing all her nerve endings. Despite her resolve to maintain control, the moment Patrick touched her at all, every good intention flew out the door.

His tongue licked between her lips, invading her mouth and scouring the inside with bold sweeps. She sucked on it, scraping it with her teeth, lost in a whirlpool of sensation. The kiss went on and on until she could no longer catch her breath. Kristi broke the contact but she was breathing hard.

What was she doing here? Her carefully constructed walls were crumbling, leaving her unprotected. For a moment, panic flared, but then desire overrode it, and a sixth sense whispered, This is different. Patrick lifted his head, the look in his eyes broadcasting the need for one thing. While she still had some control of her senses, she pressed herself away from him, just enough to break the contact.

"We'd, uh, better get inside." Control, she told herself.

Yes," he agreed. "Before I forget where we are and lose my head altogether. Sit tight while I open the door."

He helped her out of the car as if she were a precious gem then put his arm around her and held her close to his side as they entered the restaurant. The inside was all wood and soft carpet and candles on the tables. The air was filled with the low hum of conversation. Soon, they were seated at a corner table, water glasses filled and menus placed in front of them.

Kristi looked around. "I didn't even know this place existed."

"I'm still learning my way around the area," he told her, "so I asked at the precinct. Several people recommended it."

The food was excellent and the service impeccable. Kristi was still dealing with her attack of nerves, although, by her second drink, she felt herself relaxing, despite the little invisible sizzles that lit up her nerves. Patrick took every opportunity to reach across the table and touch her hand, at least when he wasn't giving her one of his penetrating looks she swore could see deep inside her. Or looking as if he wanted to sink into her body as deep as he could and stay there forever.

Imagination much, Kristi?

How long had she known him now? A month, maybe, although it seemed longer. Later, she'd be shocked to realize she didn't remember one thing they talked about, yet there didn't seem to be a lull in the conversation. And, all the while, that feeling of s****l awareness continued to buzz around them. She had no idea how long they sat there over coffee and after-dinner drinks before Patrick finally called for the check. She just knew it was one of the most pleasant evenings she'd spent in what seemed like forever.

The same feeling clung to her on the drive back to her house. When Patrick helped her out of the car and walked her to her door, she hated the thought of the evening ending. She hadn't felt this way for four years and she was so afraid she was going to fall off the wagon in a big way. If she did, she hoped she wouldn't regret it.

When she fumbled with her keys at the door, Patrick took them from her, unlocked the door, and pushed it open.

"Best night ever," he told her.

"Me, too," she whispered, shocked to realize it was.

He cupped her face in his large hands, lowered his head, and lightly touched his mouth to hers. His lips were warm and firm, the contact so sensual every one of her erogenous zones was sending out pleas for help. All her nerve endings crackled, her panties were suddenly wet, and her breasts felt heavy and achy. All this from a simple, not very erotic kiss.

But then he slipped his tongue into her mouth and all her systems went on high alert. She clutched at his biceps while their tongues did a sensuous tango. He lunged deeper, weaving his fingers in her hair to hold her head in place.

"Ask me in," Patrick murmured in a hoarse voice. "Please."

"Come in," Kristi whispered.

They paused in the living room while Patrick divested her of her jacket and tossed his own. He took her mouth in another hot kiss, murmuring against her lips, "Which way to the bedroom?"

"Down the little hall to the end."