Scene #142
"You can keep your hat on."
Bram’s voice drifted through the dark and wrapped itself around
Kylie, sending the fiery ice of desire coursing through her. He’d
misquoted the song, but no matter.
"I’m not wearing a hat," she said.
Bram chuckled. "Even better." Her body tightened and rose in
response. She quickly pulled her sweatshirt over her head, glad
she’d brought it, frumpy as it was. Damned if she’d let him see
just how much she wanted him. Not yet. But one of these nights, she
thought. Oh yes. She imagined herself, wearing only a hat, as she
eased down onto Bram, wearing only a smile. Oh my, yes.
"Anyway," Kylie continued, "I’m putting clothes on, not taking them
off. It’s chilly out here, not to mention dark. A little light,
perhaps?"
"You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?" Bram teased, his strong
white teeth glinting in the moonlight. "Or is it me you’re afraid
of?"
"No and no. But if we’re going to work out here, it would make it
easier if we could see."
Kylie heard the scrape of Bram’s chair as he got up. "Ever the
pragmatist, aren’t you?" he asked as he flicked a switch.
Lights tucked here and there in the landscaping illuminated the
patio. Bram lit several candles on the glass-topped table as well
and sat, bathed in the flickering glow, grinning at her.
Candlelight suited him as it did few men, intensifying both the
white of his shirt and the deep tan of his chest, emphasizing the
rugged planes of his face, softening his mouth. Put him in a pair
of riding pants and he’d look just like some rakehell from the
romantic books Kylie devoured in secret. Owner of Stoker
Investigations, ex-Marine, player, and Kylie’s boss, Bram was as
dangerously seductive as his namesake’s creation. And I wouldn’t
mind him biting my neck. Or anything else, Kylie thought as she
slowly walked toward him, mesmerized.
She stumbled a bit on the uneven flagstones. Business. She was here
on business. She had to remember that. "You okay?" Bram asked.
"Yes," Kylie answered, hearing the uncertainty in her own voice.
"What is it?" Bram’s voice was sharp, demanding.
She stared at the center of his chest, at the dot of light that had
suddenly appeared there. "I don’t—oh, crap," she said softly as she
recognized the blood-red mark of a laser sight, settled squarely
now over Bram’s heart.
Two running steps and she was in the air, flying over the table,
tackling Bram as the shot tore through the air above them and
shattered the wall of glass beyond. Kylie stared down into Bram’s
eyes for an endless moment before he caught her arms and rolled
with her, his hard body pressing hers to the ground as the second
bullet went screaming by.
"One thing you need to know, sweetheart," he said hotly, his mouth
close to her ear. "I like to be on top."
