Free Bo by Rie Warren Page B

peered at V, she wrinkled her nose at me.
    I took another large chunk on my fork and moaned at the taste. Slitting one eye open at her I said, “Hey. I’m a meat eater. What can I say?”
    “Me too.” Her eyes shimmered with a naughty light.
    Then her lips gleamed with some kind of butter sauce as the flounder melted on her tongue.
    I chewed an ice cube from my glass of water.
    “Want a taste?” She held her fork with flaky fish out to me.
    “I’d rather suck it right off your lips.” My eyes hooded with unveiled need.
    Throughout the meal her dress teased me as much as her mouth wrapped around her fork. Everything about her shined. She was exotic, not the prim and proper doc I’d wanted to keep clear away from.
    When she finished her entrée, she slid back her chair. She crossed one leg over the other, revealing the thigh high slit in her dress.
    I itched to touch her. My appetite turned to her. My jeans grew uncomfortably tight.
    “Dessert?” I asked.
    “Yes. Later.” Her hand moved to my thigh, caressing the thick muscles in unmistakable invitation. I hoped.
    Damn.
    I called for the check, paid it, and we were outta there a hell of a lot faster than the slow stroll we’d taken into the restaurant. Outside, muggy tropical air hit us. It slowed the racing pulse in my veins.
    “Want to go for a walk?” I asked.
    “Not going to make me run off those calories, are you, Drill Sergeant?”
    “I can think of better ways to burn off dinner, but not yet.”
    Her dress swished over her legs and brushed against mine, a reminder of the long bare legs beneath. I guided her along one cobblestone street after another. Courtyard gardens spilled onto the narrow roads, tall skinny houses with gaslights almost kissed each other.
    We stopped at an Italian ice stand, and I bought two cones of the colorful glacial treat. Veronica’s lips turned strawberry red as she licked the shiny globe. I looked over at her finishing her ice, and her gaze lifted to mine. Pulling the empty cone from her hand I tossed our paper wrappings into a nearby bin.
    The silence, the heat, between us intensified.
    Leaning in, I placed both hands on the sides of her face. My thumbs brushed her cheeks, and I slowly brought my mouth to hers. I kissed the cool ice off her lips, warming her skin with mine. Pulling back from our kiss, I gazed at her. A soft smile spread across her lips, one I mirrored.
    We continued our stroll, hand in hand. Eventually we made our way back to my truck. I didn’t open her door this time but pressed her against it.
    Threading my hands through her hair, I titled her head to mine. “So you set me up with an old dude, huh? Doctor Cartwright?”
    “Didn’t want to leave any chance you might employ your anti-talking tactics on another female doctor.” V’s hands slid to my hips.
    “Oh yeah? What tactics might those be?” I kissed her neck from the pulse point in her collarbone to the soft lobe of her ear.
    “The ones when you try to get into your therapist’s pants so you can avoid answering questions.” Her voice hit a high note as I trailed back to her neck.
    “ Ahh. But that’s not why I wanted to get into your pants, Doc.” I growled. “Or skirt.” I gathered the material in my hands, slowly skimming it up her legs.
    “It’s not?”
    “I’ll show you why.”
    My face angled to hers, I pressed my lips against her. Just a touch. Just a taste. I pulled back, licking my lips.
    V joined her hands around my neck and guided me back down.
    My tongue melted against the parted seam of her mouth. She met my lunge, pressing against me. I touched the tip of her tongue then slid all the way inside. Her hot sleek cavern detonated my brain cells. I grasped her hips, thrusting my thigh between hers as I licked her tongue, cajoling and coiling it into my mouth.
    Breaking away, I cupped her face. “You can’t come at me like that unless you’re sure.”
    “Take me home, Bo.” Her irises shaded, her russet hair