Why Not Tonight?

8

Saturday, 10:00 p.m.

ADAM HELD MALLORY in his arms and headed swiftly toward the darkened hallway, which he assumed led to the bedrooms. “Where’s your room?” he asked.

“This way,” she said, clicking on her flashlight and pointing with the beam. “Last door on the right.” She nibbled on the side of his neck and he increased his pace. “Give up on the sofa?”

“I thought it best to get out of the foyer and as far away from the front door as possible. I survived one interruption-barely-and even liked your neighbors in spite of their bad timing, but it’s not a scenario I want to repeat.”

“Good thinking. You know, without the air-conditioning running, it’s going to get really hot in here soon.”

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s really hot in here right now.”

“Exactly. So probably we should get these clothes off.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

“How about first one to get naked wins a prize?” she suggested, slipping her fingers beneath the V opening at his neck to touch his chest.

“Works for me-especially since I don’t see anybody being a loser in that contest.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he heard a faint musical sound. He paused and listened for several seconds. “Did you leave that radio on?”

“No. That’s my cell phone.” She worried her bottom lip. “I should-”

“Don’t even think about it.” He started toward the bedroom again, but before he’d taken one step, another sound chimed in. He stopped again and groaned.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“My cell phone.”

She buried her face against his neck and made a noise that sounded like a muffled laugh. “We should probably answer them.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. Whoever it is can wait.” He didn’t bother to add I can’t since it seemed patently obvious. He started walking again.

“They’ll just call back.”

“That’s what voice mail is for.”

“It might be my mom,” she said. “Worried about me with the blackout. If I don’t pick up, she might decide to drive over here.”

That stopped him like he’d walked into a brick wall. “Where’s your phone?”

“Kitchen counter.”

“Mine’s in my bag in the foyer.” Muttering a litany of very creative curses, he turned around and walked swiftly back down the hall. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a giggle vibrated against his neck. “You’re not laughing, are you?”

“You have to admit this is sort of funny.”

“I do? Maybe funny later. Not funny now.”

“I guess we could ignore the ringing and call whoever it is back in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? Ten minutes? Sweetheart, if you think you’ll only be in that bedroom for ten minutes…” He shook his head and gently lowered her to her feet. “Not happening. Of course, I have to actually get you there first, a task that’s turning into a Holy Grail-type quest.”

He strode into the foyer, grabbed his bag then walked back to the kitchen. Settling himself in the far corner, he fished out his cell phone, noting that she’d already answered hers. He glanced at his missed-calls list, which indicated Nick had been the person phoning him. A spurt of guilt worked its way through his frustration. A blackout couldn’t be an easy situation with a new baby.

Bracing his hips against the counter, he watched Mallory lean against the opposite wall. He dialed Nick’s number, but received a busy signal. Then, in an attempt to forestall another interruption in case she heard about the blackout on the news, he dialed his mother’s number in South Carolina. Her answering machine picked up and he left a brief message assuring her he was fine and he’d check in again tomorrow. Then he redialed Nick and this time the phone rang. Waiting for his friend to pick up, he noticed Mallory had ended her call and set her phone on the counter. She shot him a heated look filled with the wickedly playful mischief he remembered so clearly-that had so thoroughly bewitched and inflamed him. Then she walked slowly toward him in a cat-stalking-its-prey way that spiked his temperature another few degrees.

Nick’s voice sounded in his ear. “Hello.”

With his gaze glued on Mallory, Adam said, “Hi, Nick. Everything okay?”

“Except for the no lights, no power thing, yeah, we’re fine. Caroline’s actually asleep, and Annie’s lit a bunch of candles. I was calling to check on you. Where are you?”

All thoughts of answering were driven from his head when Mallory pressed herself against him, raised up onto her toes and lightly bit his neck.

“Hell…” he said on a soft exhalation of breath.

“Yeah, it’s hot as hell. But where are you? Still at the studio?”

“No.” He managed to get out the word before gritting his teeth when Mallory’s hands skimmed underneath his shirt. He reached for her with his free hand, but she smiled and shook her head at him.

“Finish your call,” she whispered, her fingers trailing over his abdomen. “Don’t mind me.”

Yeah, right.

“Damn, you’re not stuck on the expressway, are you?” Nick asked. “According to the last radio news report I heard, the traffic’s turning into a nightmare.”

She lowered his zipper and slipped her hands inside the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“I…I’m here on the island,” he managed to say. “Uh, safe and sound.”

She freed his erection then slowly sank to her knees before him.

“Good. You want to come over here and crash?”

He looked down and watched her slowly swirl her tongue over the head of his penis. A guttural growl rumbled in his throat.

“Adam, dude, you okay? I can barely hear you. Damn cell phones.”

“I’m…good.”

She drew him into the satiny heat of her mouth, and he dropped his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “I’ve gotta go, Nick.”

“You coming?”

“Huh?”

“You coming over?”

“No. Thanks,” he said through gritted teeth, his breathing jagged. “I’ve already got…ahhh…place to stay.”

“Okay. Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. Right. Bye.” He shut the phone and dropped it. Before it even hit the floor, he was sifting his hands through her silky hair. Lifting his head, he watched her draw him deeper into her mouth and he sucked in a sharp breath. Every nerve ending tensed, ignited with the erotic pull of her mouth, the teasing glide of her tongue. His muscles involuntarily flexed and he thrust forward into the warm, wet heat.

Sweat broke out on his forehead and he clenched his jaw to hold off the increasing need to come. When he couldn’t take any more, he grabbed her shoulders and urged her to her feet. After fastening his button to keep his pants up, he scooped her into his arms and headed purposefully toward the bedroom. She snatched up the flashlight from the counter as he walked past.

“You don’t play fair,” he said.

“Hey, all’s fair in making love.”

“Wait until it’s payback time.”

“Hmm. Is that a threat-or a promise?”

“Both.”

“Hopefully I won’t have to wait too long. But I don’t know-we’ve headed down this hallway before.”

“And nothing is stopping us this time. I turned off my damn phone.”

She combed her fingers through his hair. “Clearly we’re on the same wavelength. I did the same thing. And I spoke to my mom and best friend, reassured them of my safety, so no worries.”

“Good.” He entered the bedroom, then lowered her to her feet at the edge of the bed. “Now, as I recall, before we were so rudely interrupted-again-we’d just agreed we should get these clothes off.”

“I remember,” she said, her eyes glittering in the dim light. “Ready, set, go.”

In the history of mankind, there might have been a guy who managed to get his clothes off quicker than Adam, but he strongly doubted it.

“I win,” he said, eyeing her skirt and panties that she’d only managed to lower to her knees.

She released the material and they slid to the floor, pooling at her ankles, leaving her naked. Her gaze strolled slowly over him, lingering on his erection. The erotic image of her, on her knees, drawing him into her mouth, slammed into him. He could almost feel her lips gliding over him and he involuntarily jerked in response. When her gaze rose to meet his, her eyes brimmed with a heat that he imagined matched his own.

“Either you cheated, or you set some sort of world record,” she said in a smoky voice.

“World record.” Wanting, needing his hands on her, he reached out and clasped her hips then moved closer…until his erection brushed against her stomach. “Besides, how could I possibly cheat? Clearly I have nothing up my sleeve. Are you saying I didn’t win fair and square?”

She splayed her hands on his chest then slowly rubbed herself against him. He could practically hear whatever small amount of blood still remained above his neck whooshing down from his brain to his groin.

“Actually, I was thinking that it wasn’t really fair for you because clearly I’m going to benefit from you winning.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind sharing. Especially with you.”

“Still, you had an unfair advantage. I’d already unzipped your jeans-”

“For which I thank you-”

“-and I had to set down the flashlight.” She nodded toward the beam of light rising from the night table to point toward the ceiling, casting the bed in a hazy glow. “That cost me several crucial seconds.”

“You could have just tossed it on the floor.”

“True, but I was thinking of you.” She raised a brow. “Still like making love with the lights on?”

“I’m flattered you remember.”

“Oh, I remember plenty of things. And I can’t wait to see if you still like them.”

“Gotta tell ya, there’s not much chance of me not liking anything you’d care to do.”

Her gaze roamed over him while her hands ran up his chest and over his shoulders. “It’s such a shame that you’re not actually gorgeous,” she said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “It’s a real stretch for me to pretend I’m enjoying myself here, but since you’re my guest…well, I suppose it must be done.”

“Certainly feel free to do whatever you think must be done.”

She whispered a single fingertip over the engorged head of his penis. “Clearly you’re very glad to be here.”

“You have no idea.”

He leaned forward to kiss her, but she shook her head and stepped back. “Oh, no. You already had your wicked way with me.”

“And you had yours with me in the kitchen.”

“Not really. That was just to get you in the mood.”

He gave a short laugh. “Like I haven’t been on the verge of detonation since the minute I saw you.”

“Then to keep you in the mood.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t an issue. But mission accomplished.”

She stroked him again and his eyes slid closed. “So I see,” she murmured. “But it’s still my turn.”

“Well, if you insist… Far be it from me to argue with a woman who’s clearly made up her mind.” Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her against him then tumbled them onto the mattress.

“Good answer.” She urged him back until he reclined with his head propped on her double row of pillows. Reaching around him, she slid open the drawer in her bedside table and withdrew a condom, which she tossed onto the bed within easy reach. Then she urged his legs apart and shifted until she knelt between his thighs.

She tickled her fingers lightly over his inner thighs. “Just lay back and relax.”

“Relax?” A breath huffed from between his lips. “You can’t be…” His words melted into a groan as her fingers dipped into the crease of his thighs and cupped him. “Serious,” he finished.

“Oh, I’m serious. I owe you for the greeting you gave me in the foyer. And I always pay my debts.”

“Good to know,” he managed to say, although his ability to make small talk depleted more rapidly with every arousing pass of her hands and fingers over his flesh. “But as I recall, we agreed you owed me two. Possibly…aaahhh…three.”

“Hmm, that’s right. And I still owe you your prize for getting naked first on top of all that. Looks like it’s going to be long night.”

“That’s a shame. Really-” He sucked a hissing breath as one hand wrapped around him and lightly squeezed while her other hand continued to wander lazily. His ability to string together a coherent sentence fled, so he just watched her touching him, arousing him, watched her arousal increase along with his, and let her see how profoundly she affected him.

Gritting his teeth against the intense pleasure, he endured the sweet torturous stimulation of her cupping him, stroking him, squeezing him until he was on the verge of exploding. Then he grabbed her wrists to still her marauding hands.

“Can’t take any more,” he said, his voice jagged with need.

He vaguely noted the gleam of feminine satisfaction in her eyes, but he was much more interested in her reach for the condom. He barely controlled the urgent need clawing at him while she rolled the protection over him. The instant she finished, she straddled him then slowly sank onto his erection.

That slow slick slide into her body ripped a groan from deep inside him and his eyes slid closed. For several seconds she remained still and he absorbed the incredible feel of her tight heat wrapped around him.

But those few seconds were all the reprieve she gave him. She rocked her hips, and he sucked in a breath. When she rocked again, he grasped her hips and thrust upward, his control rapidly deteriorating. Again and again in rhythm to her movements, harder, deeper with each stroke. A long feminine moan filled his ears and she threw her head back. The instant he felt the first ripple of her orgasm tighten around him, he let himself go. His release pounded through him, dragging a guttural sound from his throat.

She collapsed on top of him, her arms loosely encircling his head, her face pressed against his neck. Her choppy breaths puffed against his damp skin, and a memory flashed through his mind, of the two of them just like this years ago, sated, breathless, her forehead nestled on his shoulder, his hands drifting slowly up and down her bare back.

She lifted her head and their eyes met. An odd sensation enveloped his chest, sort of like his heart rolled over and stuck its little heart arms up in the air and proclaimed Ya got me, I give up-an unprecedented reaction for him after sex.

And usually after sex, he had no problem making light small talk. But looking into her eyes, nothing that came to mind could be categorized as “light.” No, there was nothing “light” about God, I’ve missed you. Or How the hell could I have let you get away? Or No one’s made me feel like this since…you.

A half smile pulled up one corner of her mouth. “Just like old times, huh?”

He mentally shook himself, but he remained unsettled by his thoughts. Echoing her half smile, he said, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“That’s called ‘being on the same wavelength.’”

“Yeah. Except, I was thinking that hard as it is to believe, it’s even better now.”

“And there’s that same-wavelength thing again. Or maybe we’re both just really smart.”

“We are. You know, I always did like that you were smart.”

She shook her head. “You did not. Not always.”

“Oh, yeah? Like when?”

“Like when I’d beat your pants off at Scrabble.”

“You’d beat me because I was more interested in trying to get your pants off than playing the game. So instead of wasting time trying to figure out a great word to fit in the triple word score, I’d flop down something like it or two or the just to keep the game moving along.”

Even in the dim light there was no missing her incredulous expression. He had to press his lips together to keep from laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Hell, yes. What-did you think I didn’t know any words with more than three letters?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you were just a really bad speller.”

“Nope. Just wanted the game over with faster.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I used to beat you at Monopoly, too.”

“Right. ’Cause I used to make deals that were very advantageous-for you. Next thing I’d know, I was broke, you’d won the game and off came your clothes. Which, in my opinion, really made me the winner.”

She shook her head. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe you tricked me like that.”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d be stupid enough to sell you half a dozen properties for a couple hundred bucks.”

She lifted her chin. “Humph. Well, if you’d been really smart, you might have suggested an alternate way to get my clothes off sooner.”

“Like what?”

“Strip Monopoly.”

An image of naked real-estate wheeling and dealing popped into his mind and he grinned. “Sounds like fun. Don’t suppose you have the game?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I also have Scrabble. And Twister. Maybe after dinner I could interest you in a little friendly competition?”

“Sweetheart, I’d be happy to play any game with you that involves stripping.” An image of them, naked, assuming pretzel-like positions, flashed through his mind. “Twister sounds especially promising. Actually, I remembered how much you liked to play games, so I brought one with me.”

“What game?”

“It’s a surprise. For later. For now, how about I open the bottle of wine I brought?”

“Sounds great. Are you hungry yet?”

He leaned up and lightly bit her neck. “Starving.”

She dropped a quick kiss on his lips then rolled off him. “Bathroom’s right across the hallway,” she said, handing him the flashlight. “Don’t stub your toe. Or anything else. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Five minutes later, clad in his boxer briefs, Adam entered the candlelit kitchen carrying Mallory’s rose and Mrs. Trigali’s radio that he’d plucked from the foyer table. Mallory, wearing a short pale pink satin robe, stood at the sink, looking out the window.

After setting the flower and radio on the counter, he came up behind her. “What’s going on?” he asked, sliding his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

“It’s completely dark outside.”

“That’s called ‘night.’”

“No, I mean no lights-no streetlights, no lights on in the neighbors’ houses, nothing.”

“Oh. That’s called a blackout,” he murmured, brushing her hair from her nape so he could kiss the vulnerable bit of fragrant skin. And absorb the quiver that ran through her. “You, me, alone in the dark… Talk about the perfect date. If only I’d known, I would have brought over a pair of night-vision goggles.”

She turned in his arms and shot him a skeptical look. “Night-vision goggles?”

“The better to see you with, my dear,” he said in his best big-bad-wolf impression.

She laughed, then slid from his embrace and reached for the corkscrew on the counter. “While you open the wine, I’ll turn on the radio to see if there’s any news about the power outage.”

He applied himself to the bottle of pinot grigio he’d brought while Mallory fiddled with the dials. Seconds later an announcer’s voice filled the kitchen.

“…Technicians are working to restore power, but have not yet announced any estimates as to when the system will go back on line. Police are asking that people avoid driving as traffic signal lights are out, making for hazardous conditions.”

“Guess than means I’m going to have to stay for a while,” he said, pouring the pale gold wine into the crystal stems she handed him.

“Guess so. Boy, did you luck out, ’cause otherwise I would have pushed you right out the door.”

“…We’ll continue with updates to keep you apprised of all the latest blackout developments as they become available. We now return to our regular program, Sensuous Songs and Decadent Dedications. Give us a call and tell us what song you’d like to hear played for that sensuous, decadent someone. For all you people who are stuck together in the dark, here’s a special selection from us to you-‘Something to Talk About.’ Hey-don’t do anything we wouldn’t do.”

Smiling, he lifted his glass. “Great choice of song. Here’s to givin’ ’em something to talk about.”

She touched the rim of her glass to his. “I think we already have. In fact, I bet Mrs. Trigali and Mr. Finney are talking about us right now.”

“No doubt. They’re nice people.” He sipped his wine, enjoying the smooth slide of subtle flavor down his throat. “I wasn’t surprised to discover that you’d have a good relationship with your neighbors. Block captain, are you?” he asked in a teasing voice.

She smiled and nodded. “We all sort of look out for each other.” Walking around to the snack bar, she slid onto an oak bar stool and indicated the platter on the counter. “Antipasto. I made it because I figured with having pasta for dinner, the antipasto would cancel out the calories.”

He chuckled and it struck him that no other woman had ever made him laugh as she had. Made him feel as relaxed and able to be himself. Of course, that shouldn’t surprise him as her sense of humor was one of the many reasons he’d fallen in love with her.

Sliding onto the bar stool next to hers, he said, “Great theory, except now we’re not having pasta.”

“Still, it never hurts to work up a good sweat…” Her eyes alight with teasing sensual promise, she snagged an olive from the platter and slowly drew it into her mouth.

“I can think of a dozen ways without even trying.”

“Then we’d better eat now-to keep up our strength.”

She picked up another olive and offered it to him. Lightly grasping her wrist, he drew the olive and her fingers into his mouth. After slowly withdrawing her fingers, he shot her a wink and savored the tart, salty taste on his tongue. “Delicious.”

While he chewed, he looked around. The kitchen was cozy, with glossy white cabinets accented with antique brass knobs and a green granite countertop. It led to an eating area with a white tile-topped table and four oak chairs set by a huge picture window looking out into what he guessed would be a small but neat backyard.

“I like your house.”

“Thank you. I love this neighborhood. It’s a great mix of young families and empty nesters. The homes are small, but that’s the only way I could afford to buy-that and the fact that this house was in foreclosure and a real fixer-upper.”

“Guess it helps that you’re in the business.”

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t have known about this house otherwise. Even though it needed work, I knew that with the steady increases in the market it was a good investment. With the repairs I’ve made, its value has already gone up considerably.”

“What sort of work did you have done?”

“Mostly plumbing and electrical. Replacing some Sheetrock. Updating the bathrooms and putting in new kitchen cabinets and countertops. Adding this snack bar.” She eyed him over the rim of her wineglass. “You know how to do all that sort of stuff don’t you?”

“Yes. I like working with my hands.” To prove his point, and also because he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off her, he reached out and skimmed his fingers up her shapely calf.

“Noted. And very much appreciated. I did all the painting myself.”

He glanced at the sunshine-yellow walls and glossy white trim, then nodded. “Nice job.”

“Never let it be said that I don’t know the business end of a paintbrush.”

Drawing lazy circles around her knee with his index finger, he looked around again and realized that this wasn’t just a house, it was a home, with little personal touches everywhere, from the leafy plants gracing her windowsill to the pretty patterned curtains, to the grouping of various-size polished oak picture frames filled with family candids hanging on the wall.

“You’re happy here,” he said. “I’m glad.”

“I’m more than happy. I’m…content. Buying this house, settling in one place, has given me the sense of stability I’ve always wanted. Out of all the places I lived growing up, I loved Long Island the best. It was the place where I lived in a house-even though it was a rented one-for the first time. It was the first place that ever felt like…home.” She smiled and popped another olive into her mouth. “And now I finally have the home, the house I’ve always wanted. No more apartments, no more temporary housing. Heck, I even love mowing my lawn.”

His gaze moved to the refrigerator where several drawings, obviously done by a child, decorated the surface.

“Who did the artwork?” he asked, nodding toward the drawings.

She selected a slice of rolled salami and a wedge of cheese. “Emma, the little girl across the street. I watch her occasionally for Bob and Deb-her parents. Emma likes to come here because I always have Rocky Road ice cream in the freezer and Hershey’s Kisses in the pantry.”

“Good to know.” Snagging a bread stick wrapped in Italian ham, he thought about her watching her neighbor’s kid, the friendly camaraderie she shared with Mrs. Trigali and Mr. Finney, and an odd yearning filled him. “It’s nice that you have such a close relationship with your neighbors. Except to exchange an occasional hello, I barely see any of mine, let alone know them well.”

“Maybe that will change now that you’re not working such crazy hours.”

“Maybe.” But he doubted it. There was something about an apartment that just didn’t have the same homey quality as a house. Given her upbringing, he could understand why she’d craved owning her own house. Not having that prospect of moving hanging over her head. And it suddenly occurred to him that while his apartment was where he lived, it didn’t feel like a home. Not like this small, cozy, fixer-upper house of Mallory’s.

A frown yanked down his brows. Damn, he was losing his marbles. His apartment was perfect. Sure it was a little sparse as far as decorations went, but it had all the basics a bachelor needed-beer in the fridge, take-out places within walking distance, a comfortable sofa, big-screen TV and a king-size bed. And what difference did it make? He’d be moving in six months when his lease was up.

Deciding to shift the conversation away from domestic stuff, he asked, “What did you say to Mrs. Trigali that had her relocating the meeting?”

“When I told her you and I were getting together for this evening only, she put two and two together and realized four was a crowd.”

This evening only…

Those words reverberated through Adam, and in spite of the fact that they were perfectly true, they left behind an unsettling sensation he couldn’t name other than to know that he didn’t particularly like it. And sizzled impatience through his system to have her again.

Standing, he snagged her hand and gently tugged.

“Where are we going?” she asked, sliding off the stool.

He unknotted the sash of her robe and slipped his hands inside the parted material to run his palms over the enticing curve of her waist.

“Let’s take a shower,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle her soft, fragrant neck. “I want to make wet, hot love to you in the water. See if it’s as good as I remember.”

“That sounds lovely. But with the power out, the water might not stay warm for long.”

“You have a problem with a wet, hot quickie?”

“Now that’s a rhetorical question if I’ve ever heard one.”