Free Turn It Up by Inez Kelley Page A

easy.
    “Say hello to your palm then because I’m going be on your butt like those Fruit of the Loom. Okay, then. Everyone has their assignments. Send your emails to DocandHoney, all one word, at WTXT dot com. Pick a side and make sure you put one of our names in the subject line. Send the spicy ideas to me, the sweet ones to Doc. Just remember, you catch more flies with honey, and I’m after one fly in particular.”
    “News update, Honey. I’m going to catch you in my web and put a ring on your finger.”
    The switch keying up the theme song nearly broke in her hand as she whirled to face him. All she saw was his empty chair and the swinging door to the broadcast room. It took her a few seconds to cue up the next commercial segment but she was out the door before he made it down the hall.
    “What in the hell was that? What gives you the right to broadcast your personal mission on the air without talking to me? That shit had no business in the show. Don’t walk away from me, Bastian! Get back here.”
    The long line of his spine stopped just before the exit door. Broad shoulders straight, he faced her, jagged fortitude carved in his face. Three long strides brought him back to her. Her lips flew open to hurl more insults but were silenced by his kiss. Deep, passionate and full of resolve, he snatched the breath from her lungs. The power took her by surprise. Since last night, he’d kept their flirtation light and sweet.
    This was not sweet. This was spicy. This was Doctor Hot.
    Twenty-four hours of being free to kiss him had spoiled her hands and they crept along his arms to circle his neck without getting clearance from her brain. Her tongue danced with his, a tango of wet heat and unspoken promise. Tacks and papers slid from the bulletin board as her back met the cork.
    Had he tasted this good last night around the campfire? She didn’t recall the savory taste of control he had now. His hands on her waist, her breasts pressed into his chest, their heartbeats mingled in time. When he pulled back, her whimper threatened to follow him.
    “I’m going to marry you, Charlie. You love me as much as I love you. I know it like I know your favorite color is royal blue, you despise politics and you like Apple Jacks for a late-night snack. You’ve never lied to me so stop lying to yourself. I’m your best friend and I’m going to be your husband. I will love you until the day I die, but I will not make love to you until the time is right. Get used to it.”
    “You’re a cocky son of a bitch.”
    “Have to be to handle you.”
    Across the hall, the control room door snapped open. Justine blinked, seeing their embrace, then beamed a wide smile at them, her graying brown hair scattered about her head. “Holy shit, you two were serious! About damned time, if you ask me. I have no idea when you two cooked up this little surprise but Nathan’s going to have a heart attack. You’ve got fifty-two emails already. The server is struggling to keep up with all the hits the web page is getting. Now’s the time to ask for a raise, kids. The race for Wed or Bed is gold.”
    Bastian dropped a hard kiss on her mouth and stepped away. Determination sparkled in his eyes. “Love you. Now go back to work. And start picking out china patterns because I’m going to win.”
    Charlie watched the door swing closed behind him before allowing a hedonistic grin to lift her lip. “Oh yeah? Just wait. I’m about to turn up the heat. Let’s see how much fire Dr. Hot can handle.”
     
     
    “I’m bored.”
    The tapping pen created a rapid staccato against the table but Bastian ignored the sighing man behind him. Every few minutes, the pen stilled before scribbling a note.
    “Seriously, my brain is oozing into mush.”
    “Rav, go do charts.”
    “I did. I’m all caught up. God, don’t people wreck their cars on Tuesday mornings anymore? Is nobody falling down and breaking anything?”
    Chuckle hidden, Bastian clicked another icon.