Page 76 of Starry with a Chance of Nightshade

He dipped his head, his hand still on my cheek. “I see that now. I’m sorry. I should have called.”

“Yes,” I replied. “You should have, even if just to say you had a change of heart. It would have kept me from worrying all day.”

He lowered his head more. “I understand and I’m sorry. It’llneverhappen again. From this point forward, I’ll be sure you’re updated.”

“Good,” I said, without thinking too much beyond the fact his lips were really close. And they were so tempting. Every ounce of worry and then relief I had at knowing he was indeed fine came to a head and left me doing something that made no sense. It left me grabbing for his face and going to my tiptoes, my lips meeting his.

Holy moly, I’m kissing an officer of the law.

Any concern I had that he might reject the advance vanished as he tossed the flowers onto one of the tables just inside the door, then grabbed me, yanking me against his powerful frame. He lifted me, his tongue meeting mine as he walked us farther into the café. The door shut behind him and he reached back, breaking contact with my lips momentarily as he engaged the lock.

We stared at one another, our breathing rapid, the moment filled with what felt like years’ worth of pent-up sexual tension. The knowledge that I wanted to jump the man’s bones, to hell with him learning about my rather questionable past run-ins with law enforcement, should have left me shutting down what was happening.

It didn’t do a darn thing to quench the thirst I had for him.

In the next breath, we were kissing again.

He lifted me higher, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as our tongues entwined. He growled, teasing my lips with his before giving me a blisteringly hot kiss.

My knit cap fell off, but I didn’t care. All that I cared about was his mouth on mine. The man was an exceptionally gifted kisser. That made me wonder what else he was good at. My guess was a lot. I wasted no time on my quest to see if my guess was right.

I ground against him like I was in heat.

He had one hand under my backside, holding me off the ground, and the other went to my hair. He took hold of one of my braids and tugged just enough to make me gasp.

I’d never really understood other women’s obsession with having their hair pulled during sexy times, but I was quickly beginning to see the allure. As he deepened the kiss, tugging harder on my braid, I quickly found myself totally and completely in the hair-pulling-is-hot camp. Our tongues laced and the temperature of the café increased dramatically.

The heat made me aware of just how many layers of clothing were between me and the good stuff. Too many. That had to change, and quick. I went to work rectifying the situation by unbuttoning his dress shirt, hungry for more.

He bit at my lower lip as I untucked his shirt.

My hands went to the hard planes of his sculpted torso. His was a body I could touch all day and night.

He walked into the café more, heading in the direction of the restrooms. Never once did he make a move to set me down or seem tired in any way of holding me. With each step he took, the level of the kiss went up. At some point we’d reach boiling point, and I wasn’t sure what would happen from then.

I cupped his face and nipped at his lips, grinding on him more.

Stratton twisted and deposited me on the countertop, near the area where customers paid for their orders. He jerked me forward on the counter, leaving my backside close to the edge as he then pushed my thighs apart. He stood between them, taking control of the kiss and the situation.

There had been only one other time in my life I’d had this much of a pull to a man, and that had been eighteen years ago with Shaggy Professor. Sure, I’d had sex over the years with various men, all of whom were simply men I’d hooked up with, not had a relationship with. But I’d never felt this attracted to any of them. It didn’t matter how good-looking they’d all been. This pull was like a magnet. It didn’t feel natural, yet it didn’t feel wrong either.

As he pressed his groin to mine, I moaned into his mouth. His hands found their way under my shirt and he skimmed them up, to just beneath my lace-covered breasts.

“Restroom,” I managed between kisses.

He nodded. “Yes.”

We didn’t budge.

His hands moved over my breasts and mine found his steely pecs, before sliding down the length of him to the top of his dress slacks. He kissed his way over my face, to my ear and then my neck, making manly, possessive noises as he did.

I tilted my head back and he licked my neck, making me laugh in a wicked way.

My name came from his lips in a hushed whisper against my neck and it went down in my personal hall of fame for hottest moments. We’d not even made it to the nitty-gritty yet and I was already so hot and bothered that a fire hose would need to be turned on me to cool me down.

He groaned softly. “We shouldn’t do this here. We should stop and find a place better suited for it.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, my fingers going for his belt. “That.”

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