“Actually, he’s also the person hosting the mystery weekend. It benefits the public library. He’s very involved with local causes.”

“Can we make Adam dress up for that one?” he asked with a smile.

Things got much better after that, although admittedly, it wasn’t a really high bar. Dinner was quite good, though, and the entertainment was even better. A modern film star gave a great tribute to movie stars of a bygone era, and then later, a Big Band orchestra began to play. Nothing, however, compared to the dancing.

It’s true that when he initially took me into his arms, I winced. But he figured out a way to hold me that avoided the ribs that were bruised. And I, in turn, made sure that I avoided the swollen eye. Mark was a really good dancer, and he led me expertly. I loved the feeling of being pressed up against him and having those strong arms wrapped around me. Not to mention the fact that he smelled wonderful again. Who would have thought that this night could have gone from Hell to Heaven?

“There’s a lot to be said for lined up parts,” he whispered in my ear, as he held me close and spun me around the floor to Benny Goodman’s String of Pearls.

“We fit together well,” I answered and he breathed in deeply and pulled me against him even more tightly. As corny as it may sound, I felt like I was floating on air, and it crossed my mind that I could definitely get used to this.

I was tempted several times to try to lure Mark off somewhere alone with me. After all, I knew this museum well, and I had to admit that the thought of a quick, secretive tryst excited me. I knew that in reality, though, I would probably knock him down a flight of stairs or something. I didn’t want to literally become a femme fatale.

Later, when he took me home, he walked me up to my apartment and I invited him in, not really knowing if anything would happen. Something did happen, something that didn’t involve pain. It didn’t involve sex either, but it was still good. He stayed for coffee and we talked for hours.

We discussed our families and discovered we had some things in common. He and I shared a passion for helping the underdog largely because of our moms. His mom was a social worker and my mom had always brought me with her to do volunteer work.

We talked about our college experiences and he told me some funny stories from law school about my brother. From there, we wound up talking about all kinds of things, books, music, movies, even art, and I discovered that being with him came easily when we were relaxed. It was the first, real, in-depth, grown up conversation that we had ever had. Time flew by and before we knew it, it was 2 AM.

“Wow, it’s late,” he said looking at his watch.

“Yeah,” I said regretfully. It really had turned out to be a great evening, even with the injuries, and even without a fun sexy tryst.

Standing up, he walked over to the door. When I came over to let him out, he turned, looking deeply into my eyes. “I have one more question for you. Was this a date?” My pulse shot through the roof and I got goose bumps on my arms.

“Did you want it to be one?” I asked breathlessly.

“Yeah. Does that mean I can kiss you goodnight?”

I nodded, not really trusting my voice not to come out like a squeak. As he stepped closer to me, the butterflies in my tummy took off and my heart started pounding like a sledgehammer in my chest. He smiled that flirty smile, and put his hands on my hips, pulling me up against him gently. He paused for just a beat, to gauge my reaction I think, and when I wrapped my arms around his neck, he seemed to relax.

He leaned in, and at first, our lips met softly, and then again, and again, just a taste to whet the appetite. His arms tightened around me, and he increased the pressure, urging me to open and invite him in. I demonstrated how inviting I could be, and his tongue swept into my mouth, making it clear that as long as I wasn’t resisting, he wasn’t going to hesitate to take what he wanted. I had heard that he was a force to be reckoned with in a courtroom, so it made sense he would be that way in the bedroom. Trust me, I had no problem with that. I liked forces to be reckoned with in the bedroom.

He tasted good, like coffee and mint, and he kissed as well as he danced. He moved his lips against mine, and made delicious little thrusts and flicks with his tongue, teasing and tantalizing. Meanwhile, he also pressed me tightly against him, and stroked my back, in the most incredibly sensual way. Kissing him was a full-body experience, and I was tingling from head to toe. Eventually, he pulled away and I felt so boneless that I took a big step back… right into the entry table, knocking over a vase. He grabbed it just in time. He had quick reflexes.

“Sorry about that,” I said, dizzily.

“It’s okay. It’s your vase,” he answered, with a husky laugh. He placed it back on the table, and turned around, taking a step forward… just as I was opening the door, which hit him right in the face.

“Oh my God! Are you okay? Do you need some more ice?”

“No, I’m okay,” he said rubbing his face. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

He left, and I stood there and watched him go. Then I closed the door behind me and leaned against it trying to steady my breath. I hoped I hadn’t injured him too badly.

Chapter Six

Mark

My head was still spinning as the elevator started moving and I don’t think it was because I just got hit with a door. That kiss was incredible. I started out worried about moving too fast, but she was so eager and willing. I loved how she pressed up against me, and that tongue….