After Hours. Karen Kendall

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her and manicotti for Troy. They both chose the Caesar salad.

      “A good thing if there’s any kissing later,” Troy pointed out. “We’ll both have the breath of camels.”

      “Kissing?” She raised her glass to her lips and flooded her mouth with the tart Cabernet. “Aren’t you presuming a lot?”

      He avoided her gaze. “Yeah, I guess I am. And I shouldn’t.”

      She set her glass down. “Why did you ask me to dinner, Troy? Because I could swear that you had no intention of doing it. All that stuff about how you wanted to get to know me, and then when I called, you didn’t seem pleased to hear from me.”

      He swore under his breath and ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. “Peggy, it’s not that. Believe it or not, I was thrilled when you called.”

      “Yeah, you were turning cartwheels. Come on, Troy!” Encouraged by the wine, she leaned forward and said in low tones, “Just go ahead and give me the speech about how it’s not me, it’s you, or tell the truth and say that since we had our sex-a-thon, you don’t respect me anymore. Because I must be loose, and while you might screw that kind of woman, you sure don’t want to date her—”

      “Peggy—”

      “You already got a bucket of free milk, so why tow around the cow—”

      “Hey! That is complete bullshit—”

      “Right, of course it is. Then give me your version.”

      “Damn, woman! Look, I like you a lot. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you’re challenging and you turn me on like you wouldn’t believe. But the thing is that you’re also my nieces’ coach. And when you called I was just thinking that it’s not a good idea to take this any further. That’s all.”

      “Then why did you ask me to dinner?”

      “Because I wanted to anyway, even though it’s probably not smart. You’re an amazing woman, Peggy. I like to look at you, I like to talk with you, and I damn sure like to touch you….”

      Heat blossomed all over her skin, and she felt foolish. She’d just behaved like a raving lunatic, but Troy still sat opposite her instead of storming out. He had a perfectly reasonable explanation for his hesitance on the phone.

      A waiter, not Benito this time, appeared at the table. “Cacciatore?”

      She nodded, and he placed the dish before her.

      “And manicotti for signor.”

      Troy thanked him.

      Dinner was served, and Peggy was intensely grateful to be able to concentrate on her food. What were she and Troy going to talk about next? They’d already covered sex. Might as well move on to the other taboo subjects: politics and religion.

      Then he turned the tables on her. “So, Peggy-Sue. If you didn’t think I really wanted to ask you out to dinner, then why did you accept my invitation?”

      10

      TROY ASKED THE QUESTION partly to make her squirm after her tirade, and partly because he really wanted to know the answer.

      Peggy avoided his gaze, finished chewing her bite of chicken cacciatore and pushed a piece of zucchini around her plate before she answered. “Because I wanted to see you again.”

      He smiled. “And why would you want to see me?”

      “Well, you’re not the ugliest guy I’ve ever taken back to my apartment.”

      “Thank you,” he said, hugely entertained. “And?”

      “You left your lips at my place and I wanted to return them to you.”

      “That’s so generous. A man with no lips is a tragic sight. He’d never be able to kiss another woman.”

      “Yeah, and I was worried about that.”

      “So when are you going to give my lips back? Where are they, in your tote bag?”

      “Nope.”

      “Tucked in your bra?”

      “Nope, not there, either.”

      His smile widened. “Oh, lower down, then?”

      Her white teeth flashed. “Yup. They’re all puckered up and I’m sitting on them.”

      Troy choked. “Are you trying to tell me that I’m kissing your freckled little ass?”

      “It’s the natural order of things, dude.”

      “I am so going to enjoy punishing you for this later.”

      She laughed. “Promises, promises. Maybe you’ll get the chance, and maybe not. My aunt Thelma would say you got way too much free milk last night.”

      “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I figure you’d get upset if I tried to pay you for it.”

      Peggy threw her napkin at him.

      “So that’s not what Aunt Thelma is suggesting?”

      “Not exactly.”

      Benito came over to ask if their food was okay, and they assured him that it was delicious. He brought them each another glass of wine without asking.

      “You trying to get us drunk, Benny?” Peggy asked.

      “Sì, so you can take advantage of him.”

      Troy could think of nothing he’d like better. His appetite right now was not for food, it was for Peggy. Forget scruples and ethics and all that…he wanted to reach across the table and pull her into his arms. He wanted her ripe, soft mouth; he wanted her full breasts filling his hands, her pink nipples thrusting against his palms.

      He wanted her lips on his cock and her sweet ass riding him, urgency filling her as much as he did. He wanted to be sliding into her hot, wet body, smell her desire and hear her gasps and whimpers in his ear as he sent her into a frenzy.

      Jesus. He had to get a hold of himself—they were sitting in a public restaurant, and he was so hard he could knock a plank off the table.

      Opposite him, Peggy picked up a bread stick and met his eyes as she brought it to her mouth. Christ, she was reading him like a book. Her eyes slanted like a cat’s, she darted out the tip of her tongue and licked at the end of the bread. She wrapped her lips around it and pulled gently. Then she slid it halfway into her mouth, caressing the bottom of the stick with her tongue.

      “I’m so gonna make you pay for this,” Troy said hoarsely.

      Peggy bit the end off the bread stick. “Mmm.”

      That was when he felt something sliding against his crotch. Troy grabbed it and found that it was her small renegade foot.

      Her

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