After Hours. Vicki Lewis Thompson

her about sex. That alone was reason enough to take him up on his proposition. She would probably live to regret this decision, but she would regret even more living the rest of her days without spending three wild nights with Shane Nichols. She swallowed. “Okay.”

      “Okay.” Excitement shimmered in his expression, but he remained standing quietly, as if waiting for her to make the next move.

      “I’m going home now.” She took a step toward the door.

      “And I’ll finish the system upgrade.”

      “I’m not going to kiss you goodbye.”

      “I don’t want you to.”

      “You don’t?”

      He shook his head. “What we have going is too hot for little goodbye kisses, and you know it. If you came over here to kiss me goodbye, we’d be rolling on the floor in two seconds.”

      He was right. She trembled with the urge to go over and unzip those soft denim jeans one more time. Judging from the size of the bulge under his zipper, he wanted that, too.

      “Good night,” she whispered.

      “Good night.”

      She turned and forced herself to head toward the door.

      “Eileen.”

      She paused, her hand on the knob.

      “About tomorrow night…”

      Glancing over her shoulder, she saw him standing there, so obviously aroused. Heat sluiced through her. “What about tomorrow night?”

      “Skip the underwear, darlin’.”