Page 85 of Close Pursuit

She uncovered the plates with a flourish and he stared, surprised. Hot dogs. Piles of French fries. Ketchup. Mustard. Chili, chopped onions, and shredded cheese. “I didn’t know how you like your dogs, so I ordered all the trimmings.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. I’ve never eaten a hot dog.”

“I knew it!” she exclaimed. “Your father raised you like a European. A stuffy one. You need to embrace your inner American. And in this country, we raise eating sloppy, fattening, unhealthy food to an art form.”

He watched in amazement as she popped the lids off two bottles of beer and poured them into tall, frosty mugs.

She handed him one and intoned solemnly, “Look out teeth, Look out gums, look out belly, here it comes.”

“Am I supposed to say something in return to that, umm, poetic greatness?”

“Yes. You say, ‘bottoms up.’ And then take a swig of beer.”

He couldn’t help smirking. “I gather Americans like their beer and their women the same way?”

Katie laughed and lifted her beer glass to him saucily.

He flipped the TV channel to a basketball game and, after a little experimentation, determined that he was a chili-dog with onions man. They kicked off their shoes and sat on the bed with their plates propped on their knees, drinking beer, and watching the game.

Whether it was the company or the sheer brainlessness of it all, Alex found himself relaxing.

They finished eating and set aside their plates. He asked, “What’s next in this ode to America?”

“Well, for most people, they get a little drunk and make a pass at whoever is closest of the appropriate gender for their tastes.”

“Which helps explain the proliferation of STD’s in this country,” he added dryly.

“Beer. You definitely need more beer,” Katie declared.

At her insistence, he downed another beer, and he had to say he was starting to see the appeal. Hard liquor hit hard and fast, but beer crept up on him slowly. Gave him a little more time to observe his good judgment slipping away.

Katie turned off the lights so only the flickering glow of the TV lit the room. She excused herself to the restroom and returned wearing a white silk nightgown that barely skimmed the top of her thighs. It was simple and elegant, outlining her body’s curves like a seductive whisper. He had to give her credit for great taste. She managed to look sexy and classy all at once.

“Like it?” she asked shyly from the doorway.

“Love it. Although I’ll love getting you out of it even more.”

“Really? It’s not too…” She trailed off.

“No matter how you were going to finish that sentence, I assure you, it’s not too anything. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Great,” she said brightly. “And as for you, Dr. Peters, shirt off and on your stomach.”

“Only my shirt?”

“It sounded weird to tell you to strip. But naked would be better for what I have in mind.”

She didn’t need to ask him twice. He chucked off his clothes and stretched out on his stomach. A silky leg went across him, and Katie straddled his thighs. Startled, he tensed.

Her hands landed in the middle of his back, soft and warm. “You’re always tense,” she murmured. “We need to fix that.”

“Why? I like tense.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried relaxed,” she retorted.

He generally didn’t like back rubs, but he had to say this one felt pretty damned good. Maybe it was the beer, or maybe it was Katie’s enthusiasm for the project that was contagious. Either way, he found himself sinking into a state of blissful contentment.

She kneaded her way across his shoulders and neck, then down either side of his spine, outward across his ribs and further down his back. She pulled down hard on his hips, stretching his back before she went to work on his gluts and hamstrings. Down his calves to his feet, and then, holy crap, she sucked his big toe. Who the hell knew a toe was such an erogenous zone? His body went on full alert as her hot, wet tongue laved between his toes and then sucked them one by one.

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