“Would you like to come inside for a drink, Drey?”
She inwardly flinched at the question, sure he had been asked that a thousand times by different women. He probably recognized it as the old “hit” line it was, one that had played out years ago, and was likely wondering if that was the best she could do. Unfortunately, it was. She didn’t want to give the impression that she was anywhere close to being promiscuous or an easy mark, because she was far from it.
“I’d love to come in and share a drink with you, Charlene.”
It hadn’t gone unnoticed that he had called her Charlene this time instead of Charlie. His words, spoken in what she thought was an overly sexy tone, reeled in her thoughts and caused her to focus once again on his eyes. He was staring at her intensely, as if she was a puzzle he was determined to figure out. The thought bothered her until she felt surprised he was even taking the time to do so.
On their own accord her eyes then lowered to his mouth. When she thought of that mouth pressed against hers, a warm sensation flowed low in her belly.
Without saying anything, she took a step back inside the house and he followed.
Drey found himself drawn to Charlene’s alluring sensuality as he stepped across the threshold into her home. With each step he took he felt something happening to him, something that could be perilous to his well-being as well as to his state of mind. Yet he was at a loss to stop it even with all the caution signs flashing at him.
He was used to women inviting him inside their homes with all kinds of intent and had always been careful to make sure it wasn’t a setup of the worst kind. When it came to his sex life he maintained control. There was never a discussion on the matter. He chose his bed partners as meticulously and carefully as he chose anything else. He wasn’t one to take anyone lightly. He could spot ulterior motives a mile away, and with the keen sense of a man who could most times read a woman like a book, he could figure out—even long before they could—if they wanted him.
Charlene wanted him but for what reason he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t even certain if she knew. There was something about her, something about her invitation to come in for a drink that made him smile. Most women he knew just came right out and asked at the end of the date, “Would you like to come in for sex?” They didn’t beat around the bush about anything and usually by the time the door closed behind him they had stripped naked.
He glanced across the room at Charlene. She was fully clothed and the thought flitted through his mind that he would give anything to see her naked. Seeing her without her lab coat was an eye-opener. Removing her clothes was a boner just waiting to happen. Even now he could feel desire flowing through him. Heated lust that was increasing the flow to his brain up north and a certain other body part down south. Whether Charlene knew it or not, she was an extremely desirable woman. Why had she kept it hidden?
“So, what would you like?”
Her words pulled in his thoughts and immediately a vision flashed across his mind. Sexual imagery, hot and enticing, shot through his brain and threatened to short-circuit his nerve endings.
“What would I like?” he asked, shooting the question back at her, pausing to fully enunciate, sensually articulate every single word. He watched her tense as she realized she had unintentionally set herself up for that one.
She tilted her head at an angle he thought was sexy and glared at him. “What would you like to drink?”
He smiled, tempted to tell her sipping on her would satisfy him rather nicely, but decided not to do so. He might be wrong, way off base, but he had a feeling she was trying to downplay a certain innocence about her, while at the same time trying to prove something. What? And to whom?
“I’ll take anything you have,” he finally got around to answering. “But I prefer a beer if you have one.”
She nodded. “Yes, I have one. I’ll be back in a second.”
He heard panic in her voice and when she left the room he shook his head. Did she think he would pounce on her the first chance he got? She had been the one to invite him in.
He smiled thinking he might not pounce on her right away, but he intended to kiss her before he left. For a long time he had wondered how her lips tasted and he intended to find out tonight. Her lips had always intrigued him, had always turned him on even when they had been discussing dead bodies.
Dead bodies.
He remembered one in particular. Joe Dennis. His concentration should be focused on working his investigation and not working Charlene. He sucked in air, trying to get a grip. Instead he got a whiff of Charlene’s scent. It was all over the place. Jasmine.
He moved to the center of the room and looked around. She had a cozy place, nicely decorated, not overly furnished and crowded. It looked lived-in in a feminine way with splashes of pastel colors blended with the boldness of some darker shades. He noted that her preference in style leaned toward Early American while his remained staunchly Asian. He thought it was an interesting contrast.
“Sorry I took so long.”
He turned to face Charlene and swallowed hard, while fighting back the sensations that suddenly engulfed him. Compared to him she seemed to be a tiny thing, no taller than five three if that. His six-four height seemed to all but tower over her. And then there was the way she filled out her skirt and blouse. She was just as shapely up top as she was around the hips. Usually, he didn’t make a habit out of sizing up a woman’s breasts, but with the way hers filled her blouse he couldn’t help doing so. He had seen her many times, but because of the way she normally wore her hair, he hadn’t noticed the red highlights in her hair and what they did to her medium brown complexion.
“No problem,” he answered as he took the beer bottle from her, deciding he needed to remember the reason he was there and take care of it and leave. There was no need wasting time thinking about how good she looked or just how delicious he figured she would taste. He had an important case to solve and didn’t have time for anything else, especially anything involving a woman.
“You have a nice place,” he said before popping the cap off the beer bottle and taking a long, needed gulp. It immediately quenched his thirst but did nothing to wipe away his desire. He had focused on her mouth too many times not to know a sampling of her taste was what he really needed.
“Thanks. It’s just right for me. Not too big and not too small.”
It was then that Drey noticed she hadn’t grabbed a beer for herself. “You aren’t drinking anything?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t drink much.”
He licked his lips, aware more than ever of her femininity. And just to think seeing her without a lab coat and wearing regular clothes could have this sort of effect. “So, what else don’t you do, Charlie?” There, he figured calling her by the name she disliked would get her dander up and put back up the space he wanted between them. Thinking of tasting her all over wasn’t a good thing.
Charlene glared at him and said, “I definitely don’t do guys who can’t seem to get my name right.”
Too late Charlene was aware of how that sounded, which was pretty bad considering she’d never done a guy at all. But Drey didn’t know that. The way his brows rose indicated he was evidently intrigued by her statement.
“So,” he said, dragging out the single word and looking at her with those deep, dark, slanted eyes that made heat stir in the pit of her stomach. “Do you do guys who get your name right?”
Charlene’s glare deepened. The last thing she would admit to him was that she didn’t do guys at all. Carlos’s abrupt departure proved what guys thought of overaged virgins. “That’s none of your business.”
He placed the beer bottle on the table beside him before taking a step closer to her. The heat she felt earlier intensified into a hot flame. “And what if I were to tell you, Charlene,