Free Love in the Air by Nan Ryan Page B

moved through the air as he talked, the fire flashing in the black eyes, the mobile mouth stretched into a grin, exposing dazzling white teeth in a dark, handsome face.
    “Exactly.” Sullivan pounded the table for emphasis and reached out for another cigarette. He felt in his pocket for a match. “Give me a light, will you, Jeff?”
    Jeff, absently turning a match pack over and over in his right hand, flipped it to Sullivan. “By the way—” Jeff’s eyes began to twinkle with mischief “—what ever happened to that gold lighter you always carried? You lose it?” Jeff could hardly suppress his teasing laughter. He had a very good idea what had happened to the lighter his old friend had valued for so long.
    Kay watched as steady brown hands lit the cigarette and flipped the matches back to Jeff. Sullivan, his face devoid of expression, said calmly, “A long time ago.”
    Sullivan’s changed attitude made life more pleasant for Kay. And for everyone else who came in contact with him. Kay surmised he’d finally decided to let bygones be bygones. He was like the Sullivan she’d met all those years ago: congenial, patient, but holding her at arm’s length.
    Kay became relaxed around him and hurried in and out of his office with ideas just as she’d done when she was a starry-eyed kid eager for advice and praise from her knowledgeable mentor. Sullivan was never too busy to listen, to make suggestions, to offer help.
    Kay, working late on Friday evening, swiveled around in her chair, rubbed her tired eyes and decided it was time to leave. Rapidly cleaning off her desk, she locked her office and started toward the lobby. At the end of the corridor, Sullivan’s door stood open, though there were no lights burning inside.
    She started grinning.
    Without qualms, she strolled into his office, tossed her handbag onto the leather couch and looked up at the high chinning bar. She’d been dying to try it since the day she returned. She could recall so vividly Sullivan showing her how to chin herself and the two of them breaking up with laughter over her awkwardness. When finally she’d managed the feat, she’d been rewarded with warm, loving kisses from the laughing man standing below her.
    Kay kicked off her shoes, smoothed her hands on the skirt of her dove-gray dress and walked to the bar. Tossing back her head, she lifted her arms high in the air toward the steel cylinder. Biting her lip, she lunged up and her fingertips touched the shiny bar. Standing on tiptoe, Kay stretched as high as possible and managed after a couple of failed attempts to wrap her fingers tightly around the bar. She did it underhanded, just as she’d been instructed.
    With a little gasp of victory, she laboriously lifted herself up until she was able to press her lifted chin over the cylinder. Face flushed, stockinged feet swinging in midair, Kay giggled happily. Deep male laughter joined tinkling female laughter.
    Startled, Kay’s laughter subsided as her surprised gaze went to the man lounging in the doorway. “Very good.” Sullivan chuckled and started toward her.
    Kay, clinging to the bar, froze, speechless, and watched him nearing her. He stopped directly in front of her and slowly wrapped his long arms around her hips. “Sullivan, I can get down by—”
    “Release the bar, Kay,” he said, the warm smile still on his upturned face.
    Kay did. She moved her chin back and uncurled her fingers, letting her hands go to the tops of Sullivan’s wide shoulders. Laughing again, she said, “Guess it’s a good thing you came by. I might have hung up there all night.”
    “Yeah,” he said softly. For a time he held her there, his arms folded tightly beneath her bottom. Kay, her pelvis resting against his hard chest, hands on his shoulders, saw the laughter leaving the dark eyes.
    Slowly, carefully, Sullivan let her slide downward, never releasing his hold on her. Their eyes locked. She felt her body moving sinuously down his, felt the tight