I lean in to kiss her and as her eyes slowly close, something stirs inside me. I pause and study her face.
I am a lustful man. I look. I lust. I fuck. But this woman makes me feel more. She stirs something deep inside me and I wonder again who the fuck she is.
When my lips touch hers, the softness is like velvet, and the taste of her is sweeter than honey. I am prepared for the rush of emotion that hits my gut unguarded, but it still takes my breath away. My tongue cannot resist, it slides inside to touch hers. When our tips touch, blood fills my cock, and I’m ready for her in an instant.
Blake comes out of the kitchen whistling a Christmas song, and I gently let her lips go. As I stare into her eyes, I envision pouring oil over her prone body later.
Chapter Six
Laura
The whistled melody of Jingle Bells floats in the air, forcing reality to return.
My lips quiver with need as Zane releases them. My eyes refuse to open, desiring to dwell longer in the fantasy his lips were creating within me, wanting him to be in control.
His kiss … wow … is everything I remember it to be and more. Oh, so much more. Pure passion. Raw and real.
“Yo, Zane!” Blake calls from the counter at the entrance.
My eyes open to drink in Zane’s essence, and his expression, god help me, says he intends to fully ravage my body, and I will beg him for more.
He tenderly traces his fingertips down my face, then he runs his thumb over my lips. It tickles so I bite my bottom lip.
He smiles, then leans out of the booth to see where Blake is.
Blake must have seen him because he says, “Sorry about that. I forgot these.”
Zane looks at me as he slides out, “Beer.” Then he strolls to the front to get them.
I slide to the edge and lean out to watch his ass rolling in his jeans. He looks as fine leaving as he does coming. Damn. His broad back tapers sharply to a small waist and his fine ass sits on massive tree trunk legs that promises his thrust will be mind-blowing.
He picks up the two beer bottles and heads back. His bright white smile shines in the low light, and a little thrill shoots through me.
When he arrives, he twists the tops off both, then pushes one to me, and I tell him, “Thanks.”
He pushes the other beer across the table, as his body lowers onto the seat, then slides tight to mine. His essence overwhelms my senses, and I try not to melt. He smells so masculine. Clean, woodsy, fresh, yet musky. Umm!
The heat radiating off his body not hot, but warm and inviting, like the bath I soaked in earlier. The kind of warm you want to wrap around you, the comforting kind.
He lifts his beer to his lips, and I cream my jeans, watching the slight pucker they make as the tip of his tongue rest behind his bottom lip. Then as the glass presses against them, and he sucks the amber liquid from inside, the way his jaw moves, and his Adam’s apple strokes his throat, forces me to swallow the low moan that ached for escape from my chest.
He lowers the bottle, and his eyes smile into mine. I feel all the fucking butterflies I felt when I was thirteen and he kissed me. How can he still have that effect on me? That was fourteen years ago.
He asks, “Do you drink beer?” Then he waits for my response, but I’m wondering, if after all these years our chemistry is still this strong, will it always be this way? Will my body swoon when his body presses against it, year after year after year?
I look at my beer and smile as I lift it to my lips. I think my question deserves research. I suck the liquid down my throat, thankful it burns a little. Then I set it on the table, turn to him, and ask, “How long have you been a K-9 Officer?”
He leans back in the booth, stretches his long legs out, rests one arm along the back of the booth behind me, and the other spins the beer bottle on the table.
I turn to face him, lifting my leg, resting my knee on his thigh. It’s an innocent position, but it suggests intimacy.
He looks down at it as he recounts how Batman came to be his partner. He explains the process of how the dogs are trained at the Academy, then how he met Batman, and what that day was like.”
His deep tone is mesmerizing, and as my eyes move back and forth from his eyes to his lips, I realize I could listen to him talk all day. When he gets to the part about taking Batman home, I discover he was single, so I ask just to be sure, “So … are you still single?”
His eyes narrow, and he is taken aback by my insinuation. “Yeah, I’m single. Did you think I might not be?”
I smirk and bat my eyes, trying to soften the accusation, as I admit, “It wouldn’t be the first time a married man tried to step out on his wife with me.”
"I wouldn’t do that.” He gives me a direct stare, “I’ve been on the receiving end of a cheater.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Wow!” I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”
He shrugs, “It’s no big deal. Actually, it was one of the best things to ever happen to me.”
“Really?” His answer surprises me.
He chuckles, “Well, not at the time, but because of it, I dropped out of college and joined the military.”
I shake my head in disbelief and ask, “You’re telling me a girl cheated on you?”
“Yeah. With my best friend. At a Christmas Party.”
“Wow! I’m shocked!” I tell him, truthfully. “What woman in her right mind would cheat on you? What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. I was good to her. They got coked up and went at it.”
“No, that’s not what I was asking. What I meant was, what did you do when you discovered their betrayal?”
He laughs, staring out over the dining area. “I cleaned fucking house. Threw out the damn trash.” His eyes drift back to mine and the righteous conviction that stares at me is sobering. I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. There would be no mercy. “That’s the night I perfected, ‘Bah Humbug, Motherfucker.’”
I shake my head stunned. “Friends don’t do shit like that to each other. Friends respect each other.”
He lifts his beer to toast my comment. “I’ll drink to that.” We clink our bottles, then he asks me as his beer travels to those perfect lips. "Ever marry?”
"No," I shake my head, then lift my beer, and before I take a drink, I ask him. "Kids?"
We take a long draw together, then he says as he sets the beer on the table. ”No, no kids. Do you?"
"No, I don’t either." I smile and set my beer on the table too.
Blake calls from the kitchen. "Your pizza is coming up in ten minutes. You two ready for another beer?”
Zane lifts his empty bottle in the air.
Blake says, “Sit tight. I’ll bring ‘em over.”
Zane smirks at me, and we both know Blake is curious to talk to us.
When Blake sets the fresh beers down, Zane takes them, sliding one to me like before and I thank him.
Blake looks from me to Zane, then back to me expectantly, then he grins at me. "It’s so good to see you. It’s been a while since you stopped by.”
“Yeah, I practically live at Been Jammin’, and my apartment is closer to Henderson. I don’t make it over this way much anymore.”