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Authors: Hope Tarr

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BOOK: It's A Wonderfully Sexy Life
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Josh slid his gaze down to her firing hand and then slowly back up. “Easy, you. There’s no need to pull a Dirty Harry on me.” He bent to retrieve her cell. Straightening, he handed it over. “I just didn’t want to give you the chance to sneak out without saying good-night.”

Feeling like an idiot, she slipped the phone back into the clip at her waist. “I wasn’t sneaking out. I was signing out.”

It was the first time she’d been near him without the portable bar as a buffer. Except for the rumpled white tuxedo shirt, he’d changed out of his uniform. If possible, he looked even sexier in softly worn jeans, scuffed boots and a faded black leather jacket than he had in the formal wear dangling from the dry cleaner’s hanger in his hand.

When he seemed in no hurry to go, she found herself searching her sex-soaked brain for something smart to say. “You’re, uh…done for the night, too, then?”
Brilliant, Delinski, really stellar. You’ll make detective yet.

He nodded, rolling his broad shoulders. “Yeah, thank God.” Thinking of how amazing he must look without the shirt and jacket, without clothes at all, made her mouth water in a way usually reserved for chocolate or some decadent dessert. Lifting long-lashed eyes to hers, he added, “Any chance I could persuade you to grab a drink or a cup of coffee with me?”

Oh my God
. Had he just asked her out? For the second time that night, Mandy had to resist the urge to look back over her shoulder.
Okay, a) I have a brain tumor that’s causing me to hallucinate, b) I’ve hit my head and gone into a coma orc) I’m already dead and hanging out in Heaven. Pick any of those three, and as long as I don’t have to come to or come back, I don’t care.

“Don’t tell me you don’t fraternize with civilians?” He raised one sandy-colored eyebrow and regarded her, waiting.

Set at ease by his teasing, she found her voice. “I can’t drink in uniform but, uh…coffee sounds good. Only it’s Christmas Eve. There won’t be much open at this hour.”

There it was again, that sexy, half-cocked smile that had her heart doing somersaults—and more southern portions of her anatomy going very warm and very wet.

“In that case, I should probably mention I make great coffee.”

Holy Mother Mary, he wasn’t just asking her out, he was asking her back to his place! Talk about moving with lightning speed. But as much as she’d been fantasizing lately about sex with a red-hot stranger, thinking and doing were separate activities. Beyond giving up her good-girl self-image, there was the very real, very deep-seated fear that because of her weight he might consider her desperate, an easy mark.

Reining in the heat, she took a step back. “Actually, I know of this great locals’ place, The Daily Grind. It may still be open.”

If he was disappointed, he hid it behind a smile. “In that case, officer, lead the way.”

2
Monday, December 25
1:00 a.m. (Too excited to sleep…)
Number of hunks potentially available for sucking face with under the mistletoe: one—but then how many does a girl need? Countdown to New Year’s Eve, the hands-down worst night of the year to be thirty and single: still exactly one week, but feel particle of optimism creeping in to disperse black cloud of despair as consider possibility may not have to ring in the new year alone after all.

Maybe not alone after all…

M
ANDY LIKED TO THINK
of The Daily Grind as the anti-Starbucks. A kitschy little locals’ enclave in the heart of Fells Point, the city’s historic waterfront district, it catered to lovers of coffee and conversation in an eclectic, low-key setting showcasing local art and a gumball machine that dispensed chocolate-covered espresso beans by the handful for twenty-five cents. In the warmer months, you might just as easily encounter a whacked-out homeless person occupying one of the restaurant’s two café tables and chatting with imaginary friends as a buttoned-down business executive carrying on a virtual meeting from his or her cell phone. But it was Christmas Eve, as well as bitterly cold, and the outside tables were deserted for good reason.
Off-duty use of the squad car didn’t permit taking on unauthorized passengers, so they’d driven separately, Josh following in his beat-up Buick. On the drive over, Mandy had worried they might not have anything in common—other than the sexual chemistry drawing them together like twin magnets—but the opposite proved to be true. Within the first five minutes, they’d discovered shared passions for classic black-and-white films, Art Deco antiques and any dessert with Death by Chocolate in the title. Settled inside with two large café mochas, their second round, set on the table between them, they couldn’t seem to
stop
talking.

Mandy took a sip of her drink and set the porcelain cup down on its saucer. “Audrey Hepburn is probably my all-time favorite film actress. Even playing an escort in
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
she came off as so elegant and self-possessed—and well, so skinny. I’d kill for a figure like hers.” She looked down at her cup. The thought of all the calories in the whipped cream alone had her holding in a sigh even as she dug in her spoon.

Josh shook his head. “She was a great actress, no doubt about it, but too skinny for my taste. When it comes to body types, I’m more of a Marilyn Monroe fan. Did you know she was a size sixteen?”

Mandy looked up from sipping whipped cream from her spoon. “Get out of here, really?”

He nodded. “That was back in the day when women had curves and were proud to show them off.” His gaze slid over her, openly appreciative rather than leering, and Mandy felt her heart tip over on its side like an overloaded cart.

Oh my God,
is this my dream guy or what! Before she fell any more head over heels, she ventured to ask, “You never did say where in New England you’re from—or do I have to guess?”

Again, that hint of hesitation from him that she’d picked up on at the museum. Even in the throes of a full-on hormone blitzkrieg, her police-trained mind kicked in, wondering what he might have to hide.

“Boston,” he answered after a longer than usual pause. “I grew up in the ’burbs, though.”

Watching his chiseled features for signs of deception, Mandy said, “I went there once on an overnight school field trip. Tenth grade American History with Sister Anne Marie.”

His smile dimmed and some of the sparkle seemed to leave his eyes. “It’s a great city as long as you don’t mind snow. You should go back sometime. If, make that
when
you do, let me know. I make a great tour guide.”

She held in a breath. Was he implying they’d be staying in touch, that coffee on Christmas Eve might be a prelude to something more? “Getting time off can be tricky sometimes but sure, that would be great.”

Elbows propped on the table’s edge, he leaned across, close enough that she could taste the rich chocolate and cream on his breath. “If you don’t mind my asking, what made you decide to be a cop?”

Usually she resented the question if only because her male colleagues were seldom asked to explain their career choice. Females in law enforcement weren’t the anomaly they once were, but men still represented the vast majority.

But looking into Josh’s eyes, she didn’t see censorship, only genuine interest, and she found herself reaching beyond her pat fifty-words-or-fewer answer. “Growing up, I was always watching cop shows, anything from reruns of
Dragnet
to
Barney Miller
. After high school, I floated from one dead-end job to another—restaurant manager, retail sales clerk, limo driver. Believe it or not, I even did a stint as a cosmetologist.”

“Why wouldn’t I believe that? You’re beautiful.”

Unused to compliments, she wasn’t sure what to say, so she only shook her head and pretended interest in the whipped cream melting into her cup. “Five years ago, my cousin, Vince, was killed during a robbery at his convenience store.”

A pained look crossed his face. He shook his head. “That’s awful. A violent death affects so many people—family, friends, even coworkers. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Warmed by his understanding, she said, “Thank you. It was awful for our family but especially for his wife, Theresa. She’d just had a baby and they had two little girls, twins, who barely remember their dad. What made it even worse was they never caught the guy who shot him. I wanted so badly to do something to help. Not Vince—it was too late for him and his family—but the crime situation in the city. Working patrol lets me help people hands-on, work with community leaders to come up with crime prevention programs for at-risk kids, that sort of thing. There are good days and bad, but overall I wouldn’t trade the badge for any other job in the world.”

He looked at her, gaze thoughtful. “You’re fortunate then to have a job you love. Most people I know hate what they do. They’re just in it for the money.”

She couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Well, I can definitely say I’m not in police work for the money. If anything, I’m in it in spite of the pay.”

One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile. “That good, huh?”

“I’m pulling as many overtime shifts as I can get to save up to buy a house. In the meantime, I’m back living with my folks.” What was in her drink, truth serum? As turn-offs went, admitting to living at home about topped the chart. It was just that he was so easy to talk to, she forgot to censor herself.

Instead of making a beeline for the door, he stayed put and asked, “Bad breakup?” He looked sympathetic, even a little sad.

“Yes, but with my so-called financial advisor. An old…friend from the neighborhood was working as a broker at the time. He convinced me to put my savings in the stock market—the month before the last big crash.” Thanks to that jerk, Lenny, she’d lost everything—her self-respect along with all the money she’d saved up since her babysitting days.

“That’s tough. If you ever consider reinvesting, you might think about diversifying your portfolio to include telecommunication technologies. WiFi networks are literally the wave of the future—the radio wave.”

Mandy recalled that several popular downtown coffee spots recently had expanded into Internet cafés, providing customers access to their wireless networks while sipping their lattes and chatting on their cell phones. Until now she hadn’t thought much about how the technology worked or that it might constitute big business.

Her ignorance must have shown on her face because he elaborated, “Wireless fidelity devices connect to the Internet at high speeds via radio waves instead of the old, cumbersome fiber optic cabling.” He flashed an apologetic smile that set her heart on its side. “Sorry, I’m sort of a geek when it comes to this stuff.”

“No, not at all, it’s interesting.” It
was
interesting though at this point interesting pretty much summed up everything about him. Fact was, he could pull out a newspaper and read her the weather report, and she’d be spellbound. “And thanks for the investment tip, but a money market is probably about as adventurous as I’ll ever get again.”

But there were areas of her life other than finance where she was prepared to shake off her old conservatism and be adventurous indeed, her sex life for starters. Earlier, he’d slipped off his black leather jacket. Watching the rise and fall of his chest, the broad planes outlined by the fitted shirt, was an amazing, make that an
orgasmic
sight to behold.

Realizing she must be staring like the cliché of the gauche Catholic schoolgirl she’d once been, she grabbed her drink and took a small, scorching sip. “Ouch!” She pulled back, setting her cup down with a clang.

All concern, Josh said, “You didn’t burn yourself, did you?”

She could already feel the roof of her mouth peeling but rather than admit it, she shook her head. “I’m okay.”

Staring at her mouth, he said, “You have a spot of whipped cream just…there.” Reaching across, he gently swiped the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, slowly tracing the arc. He brought his thumb to his lips and, holding her gaze, licked it very slowly and very thoroughly clean. “Hmm, you taste great.”

Oh my God
. Talk about blistering! Watching him, Mandy felt the wetness between her thighs heat to molten lava, the twinge of sexual awareness spike to full-throttle ache. There was no more ignoring the obvious—she wanted this man more than she’d ever wanted anyone in her adult life.

A throat being loudly cleared drew their attention across the room to the coffee bar. Standing behind it, the two counter workers regarded them with frowning faces and folded arms. A guilty glance around confirmed the other booths and tables were all empty. They were closing down the place—literally.

Wearing a cop’s badge carried certain perks but keeping merchants past closing on the biggest holiday of the year was definitely pushing the envelope. She turned back to Josh. “It is Christmas Eve. I guess we should let these folks go home.”

“Before they throw us out, you mean?” Standing up, he reached around to retrieve his jacket, giving her a close-up shot of his denim-clad butt, which definitely qualified as Grade-A American booty. Wow!

Swallowing hard, she pushed back from the table and stood. “Yeah, that.”

“In that case, I’ll walk you to your car.”

Under ordinary circumstances, Mandy might have pointed out that she was, after all, the one packing the pistol. But this was no ordinary night. Having a hot hunk with a heart of gold act as her self-appointed bodyguard was an experience she was determined to savor for however many more minutes it lasted.

They stepped out into icy air and bluster, the exterior shop lights cutting off as soon as their feet struck the sidewalk. Hugging their coats, they crossed Thames Street to where Mandy had parked.

Josh dragged a hand through his hair, pushing it back from where it had blown over his brow. Watching him, Mandy couldn’t help wondering how that thick thatch of corn silk might feel against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs as he kissed her intimately. Though the wind chill made the temperature feel subzero, the fantasy fired off a heated throbbing low in her belly.

Cars keys in hand, she searched for something to say that would wrap up the evening beyond goodbye. “I had a really nice time.”
Pretty original, Mandy—not!

Josh smiled. “So did I.” A strong wind blew off the water, hitting them full force. He moved closer, shielding her body with his. “The great thing is it doesn’t have to end.”

She gulped against the dryness in her throat, a striking contrast to the moisture pooling in her panties. “It doesn’t?”

“No, it doesn’t.” He settled a warm hand on her waist. “I live just about five minutes away in Canton.”

“That’s…convenient.” Five minutes away. Even though she had a pretty good idea of where this was leading, she couldn’t shake the feeling she was dreaming. Sexy encounters such as this didn’t happen to women like her or at least they hadn’t in the past. “You’re in my precinct, then.” Anticipating his kiss, she moistened her lips.

He smiled. “Yet another reason to love living downtown.” The smile faded and in the sketchy light, she saw his expression turn serious. “Look, I don’t mean to be forward or offend you, it’s just that…” He shook his head as if to clear it and admitted, “I’m not ready to say good-night to you, not yet.”

“You’re not?”

“No.” The hand anchored to her hip slid lower, cupping her trouser-clad buttocks. “What about you, Mandy?”

Oh, she was definitely ready all right, but leaving was the very last thing on her mind. Before she could find a graceful way of saying so, she was pulled flush against a hard male chest, with the cold metal of the car at her backside and the sexy lips she’d been salivating over all night zeroing in on hers.

He hesitated, his mouth a bare whisper from hers, his exhaled breath a warm balm to her cold-stiffened face, his solid body her sole source of comfort in an otherwise cold, cruel world. “Mind?”

“Nuh-uh.” She shook her head, dimly aware that some instinct had led her to widen her stance so that he stood inside her parted thighs, the heat and pressure of his erection penetrating their layers of clothes. Instead of visions of sugar plums dancing in her head, it was the vision of what she was certain must be a big, hard, beautifully-shaped cock sliding back and forth inside her hungry mouth, teasing the tip of her tongue and back of her throat, probing the slippery wet slit between her thighs.

She caught a glimpse of his answering smile and wondered what sort of wicked thoughts were dirty dancing inside his head. Before she could find the words to ask, he dipped his head and captured her mouth in the sort of soul-searing, silver-screen-era kiss she’d dreamt of since the age of eight but until now had never experienced. For once in her life she didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, didn’t worry, but gave herself up to the moment. She parted her lips and he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth, touching the tip to hers and then delving deeper. He tasted of rich cocoa and sinfully sweet whipped cream, and she kissed him back with a hunger that surprised even her, devouring the taste and texture of him, savoring with tongue and lips and nipping teeth.

For the span of several heartbeats, the only sounds on the street came from them—the wet tangling of tongues, the hitching of breaths, urgent hands pulling at layered clothing, seeking access to blood-warmed flesh. A moan, Mandy’s, broke the semi-silence.

Trailing kisses along the corded sinew at the side of his neck, she whispered, “Tell me this is real, that I’m not dreaming.”

“Oh, baby, if you are then I’m dreaming, too, and I definitely don’t want to wake up.” He slid a broad-palmed hand upward from her waist to brush the tip of her breast.

BOOK: It's A Wonderfully Sexy Life
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