“I almost maced you,” she says and covers her chest with her hand, panting.
God, I want to make her pant like that for entirely different reasons. Just the thought of it has my cock on high alert.
“Sorry,” I say again and try to think of dead puppies and spaghetti to calm my dick down.
“Why are you here?”
“To walk you to your car,” I reply and fall into step beside her.
“That’s very chivalrous of you, but I’m fine walking a block by myself.”
“Yes, you carry mace.” I smirk, and then laugh when she bites her lip guiltily. “Let me guess. You don’t really have any mace.”
“I could stab someone with my heel,” she suggests and I can’t stand it. I have to touch her, so I take her hand in mine and kiss her knuckles.
“You’re adorable.”
“No. I’m not.”
She is.
“Okay.”
“My car is right there,” she says and speeds up, trying to pull her hand away, but I don’t let her go. Not yet.
“I like it.” She drives a ’68 Camaro. Jesus, I might have to marry her.
“So do I.”
She unlocks the driver's door, but before she can open it, I turn her and lean in, her back against the door, my body inches from hers. I feel the heat coming off of her, I can smell the fruity shampoo she uses, and it’s a big boost to my ego when she takes a long, deep breath, then braces her hands on my hips.
She’s not pushing me away, so I take that as a good sign.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Calliope.”
“How did you know my name?” she whispers, those ice blue eyes pinned to my mouth.
“Adam,” I reply.
“He’ll pay for that. I hate that name.”
“I like it.” I lean in closer and drag my nose down her cheek, breathing her in. God, she’s more potent than the tequila. “It’s pretty and unusual, just like you.”
“Is that a compliment?”
I grin. “Yes, ma’am.”
Her hands travel up my sides, over my shirt, and fist over my ribs, gathering the cotton tightly as my left hand glides down her side to her ass.
“I like your height too, you know,” I murmur. “When you’re in heels like this, I don’t have to practically bend in half to reach you.”
“Happy to oblige,” she whispers. She’s still gripping onto me, but she’s not leaning in to me, as if she’s waiting to see where I take this.
And if we weren’t in the middle of the street, I’d fuck her brainless. Right here.
But instead, I let my lips drag up her neck and then hover over mouth, barely touching her. “If you’re going to push me away, do it now.”
She doesn’t push me away. Instead, she pulls me in, and our mouths take over, nibbling, exploring, enjoying.
I could kiss her all damn night.
And I will.
But not tonight.
Before I boost her up and bury myself inside her for all of God and the whole French Quarter to see, I pull back just a bit and turn the kiss from hot to sweet. She purrs.
She mother-fucking purrs.
And then, she lets go of my shirt, drags her hands down my sides, and with a cocky smile on those full red lips, she grabs my ass, her nails digging in just enough to bite, and tugs on my lower lip with her teeth.
Without moving away, I leave my lips on hers and say, “Monday.”
Then I pull back and stand on the sidewalk as I watch her lower herself into her car, cool as a damn cucumber, and drive away.
Jesus, she’s going to be fun in bed.
Chapter Two
Callie
“Up or down?” I ask Adam as I rush out of my bedroom to where he’s cooking something that smells just nasty in the kitchen.
Adam never could cook worth a damn.
“What you do with your pants is none of my business,” he replies, not looking at me at all.
“You’re a riot. My hair, Adam. Up or down?”