I was out on stories most of the day, tracking down sound bites from the mayor and covering a feature about a group of kids raising money for their classmate with a life-threatening diagnosis. None of it required a live shot, so I was back at the station before the five. Carrie had a mirror out and was giving her hair a fluff, something she did daily before walking down to the studio. She regarded me out of the corner of her eye.
“Good stuff today?”
“Medium stuff. Sweet stuff.” I shrugged. “It was a good day.”
“Now what?”
“Now is the best part. I get to watch you bring it all to the people.”
Her eyes lit up, and it stole the air. “You’re really going to watch? Here?”
“I’ll watch the five here and the ten from home. With popcorn. And my dog, Micky. Micky adores popcorn. Catches it in the air. You’d like him.”
“Maybe I’ll meet him?”
“Oh, I think you definitely will.” The thought gave me such a rush of energy that I couldn’t contain myself. “Hey, can I show you something in bay three?” It was empty. I’d just passed it moments before.
She checked her watch, likely making sure she wouldn’t be late to the studio, and nodded. “Of course. A story?”
“Yeah, I need your opinion.” I led her into the tiny dimly lit room, closed the door, and turned. “Hi.”
She grinned. Gave me a head shake. “You’re sneaky.”
“A little.” And with a confidence that might be fleeting, I seized the moment and kissed her with all the desire I’d had building in me for the past eighteen hours. She might have had me against that hallway wall the night before, but I had her against the door of the editing bay, my tongue in her mouth, my hands creeping up from her waist closer to the undercurves of her breasts, which without even seeing them had to be the most fantastic breasts on the planet. Round. Medium in size. My hands itched to hold their weight and then run my thumbs across her nipples. My tongue longed to lick circles. The idea alone had me wet.
“Good God,” she murmured as I kissed off the gloss she’d likely just applied. She apparently didn’t mind and came back for more, capturing my mouth and running her tongue along my bottom lip. My shirt was being untucked, and her warm hands were on my back. I heard myself moan at the simple touch. I’d never felt my responses so intense. My knees shook.
“You have to get to the studio,” I said around a kiss. “I really, really don’t want you to go.” Another kiss. “But you can’t get fired for standing up”—a kiss—“all of San Diego. That would really dampen the mood.”
“Mm-hmm,” she said, her lips clinging to mine as if savoring this last moment.
“But you’ll”—kissing—“need more”—kissing—“lip gloss. I kissed it off.”
She pulled her face back. “Good thing I have some. Come here,”she said and hauled me in for one last toe-curling go round. Who taught this woman how to kiss, and could I get an amen in their honor?
“Praise God.”
“What’s that?” she asked, smoothing her hair back in place.
“Reflex celebration.”
She touched my chin. “We have to stop kissing in dimly lit small spaces.”
“I’m fully in favor of exploring larger ones. And medium. More of the small is fine, too. Did I say praise God a minute ago? Meant it.”
“You’re so cute. Have I told you that?”
I took a breath, letting my heart rate settle. “You have. I don’t mind it at all. Would sex kitten be better? Sure. But I can work with cute.”
She opened the door and looked back at me. “You’re just proving my point.” She dropped to a whisper. “And sex kitten is definitely in there, too.”
The door closed and I was left hot and bothered and wondering what was next.
“Hey!” Ty yelled, popping his head in and scaring the life out of me. “You in here editing something?”
“What?” I placed a hand on my terrified chest. “You can’t just walk in on someone and scream.”
“Yes, I can,” he said and looked around, taking in the blank monitors. Caught. “What are you doing?”