Free Payback by Kim Brogan Page B

get this second date?”
    “You haven’t had a first!” 
    “I’ve been to your house.  We were alone.  We talked.  We spent time together.  We even had our first fight—which, judging from your disposition, I should get used to—so I’d say we’re up for our second date.”
    “Dream on, broomstick cowboy.”
    He gave me a smile that I’d see numerous times, a smile that said, “We’ll just see about that.”  I felt his hand snake through my arm and around my waist.  “Now, let’s try that kiss again.”
    “I would have thought you’d see from the first one that kissing is not my forte.”
    “All I need is a willing pupil.” He pulled me in so close my breasts were smashed against his chest.  His free hand slipped up through my hair, sending goose bumps down my arms. Tilting his head, he closed his eyes and softly kissed my lips with no tongue, just gentle, slightly open-mouth kisses.  I felt like the Wicked Witch of the West—I was melting.  If he didn’t stop, I was going to be a puddle on the ground.  Just when I thought it was over, there came his tongue, slipping past my teeth and gingerly touching my tongue, as his hand behind my back began to move down.
    I could feel his erection grow , as I gave into his increasing passion.  If he had told me to pull down my jeans so he could have our second date, I would have done it right there.  As it was, he finally pulled back, swallowed hard, and adjusted his trousers.
    “I think we ought to take this to my cottage.”
    Being a cash cow for the studios has its perks.  Caden had been given a studio cottage for the duration of filming.  In a few weeks, the studio would ask Caden to vacate the cottage but not without giving him help and several gift bags to make it worth his while.  We walked hand in hand over to his cottage, which faced the west parking lot.  It was very pleasant inside. Each cottage had a little, wood-framed fireplace, a nice, comfortable sofa and a matching chair facing the fireplace. 
    He turned on a table lamp next to the sofa , and we sat down.  I thought we might start a conversation, but he leaned in, and I took a deep breath.  His mouth was on mine, and I was more than ready to receive.  Together, we slid down so that we were prone on the couch.  The distraction of the movement helped slow me down, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on Caden.  Once he had me horizontal, his hands started wandering. It seems my ass was his favorite territory for the next few minutes.  His hand slid over my jeans, cupping my ass, while his mouth made love to mine.  Then his hand slid further, between my cheek and my thigh—right where everything was tingling.  I should have stopped, but I wanted him to touch me there. Touch me!  Touch me, damn it. But he didn’t touch me.  Instead, his hand slithered back up to my front and managed to burrow under my T-shirt.  I had on a T-shirt bra, one that slipped over your head and had no wires. His hand landed just below my breast on my ribs.  We both knew where that hand was going, but he was testing the water. 
    I couldn’t breathe. I was waiting for him to make his move, slip his hand over my breast, but again, he didn’t do it.  Instead , he pulled his hand out and started unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt.  I watched, not sure what I was supposed to be doing at this point.  He pulled the shirt over his head, and my eyes flashed with appreciation.  He didn’t have these humongous muscles that you see in the movies, but he certainly had just the right definition.  The guy was in shape.  And my heart flipped when I saw the tuft of hair on his chest.  I remembered a few months ago that he had been shaved completely for his bedroom scene.  Manscaping, the art of removing hair from men to make them look like hairless Chihuahuas, was the “in” thing to do in Hollywood.  Men were shaving and waxing hair from their chests and genitals simply because the guy