Playin’ Cop (Heroes of Henderson ~ Prequel) by Liz Kelly Page B

was going to put the cat back in the bag.
    “Are you done?” he said, his eyebrows lifting. Annabelle nodded a weak little nod, terrified of his next words.
    Duncan turned to the waiter hovering in the distance. “Check, please.”
    “Oh my God. Duncan, no!” Annabelle pleaded, throwing her hands up to his shoulders trying to turn him around to look at her. “Please, don’t be mad….” she went on, becoming aware of a suspicious shaking under her hands as he turned around. Laughing.
    She threw him her very best pout, but he said, “You deserved that. You and your father. I cannot believe I was set up.”
    “Believe it,” she groaned. “And it was brilliant…all except for the part where I started to fall for you. Then it became weird and twisted and this big fat lie that I had to live with—”
    She saw the poor waiter scurry off again as Duncan pulled her close and shut her up with one long, hard kiss. Her toes literally curled. “You started to fall for me?” he asked against her lips, sounding very pleased.  
    Annabelle simply nodded against him.
    “Okay, then. How ’bout that steak?”
     

 
    Chapter Ten
     
    “Nervous?”
    Annabelle responded with a quick smile as Duncan unlocked the door. Yeah, she was nervous. The two of them were never at a loss for words, but the drive home had been noticeably quiet. Just like their walk from the car to Duncan’s townhouse.
    And now, she thought, now they were literally standing on a threshold.
    “Come here,” he said, reaching out, taking one of her hands and slowly moving it up to his shoulder. He stepped in like he was pulling her close for a slow dance when her feet came out from under her and, like Scarlett O’Hara, she found herself airborne and being carried off in the arms of her own Rhett Butler.
    “Duncan James,” she said, “you've been sweeping me off my feet all week.”
    Once inside, he backed up against the door, closing it with his backside, and asked her to lock it by throwing the deadbolt. Then he said, “How ’bout I give you a tour in the morning?” She simply nodded as that delicious nervous angst bloomed inside her chest.
    He walked to the stairs and set her feet down on the first step so they stood more or less eye to eye. His hands moved into her hair on either side of her face. “I’m crazy about you, Annabelle Devine.” With exquisite concentration, he took his time kissing her lower lip, lightly running his tongue across the upper one. “I want you in my bed something awful,” he drawled, his Southern accent growing heavy, his voice going sleepy. He trailed his lips across her jaw line. “I’m completely healthy,” he assured her, moving down her neck toward that one little spot she was growing so fond of. “I’m prepared. I’ll protect you,” he promised, his mouth settling on top of her shoulder then trailing a path to the sensitive place where he nipped at her flesh.
    Moving a hand to the banister and another to her hip, Duncan nudged her backward up the next step while his mouth played again with hers. “There’s no zipper on this dress,” he said between kisses, moving them further up the steps. The pressure of his hand on her hip was tantalizing. “So I’m gonna watch you take it off,” he said pulling her firmly against him halfway up the stairs.
    His tongue slid into her mouth and plundered. Annabelle moaned against him as the wave of passion tossed her under its magnificent surge. Gone again was conscious thought. Her mind drifted to another dimension while her body remained anchored by the onslaught of chemical combustion. Her breasts felt engorged and begged to be touched. Her thighs quivered with need. Her tiny lace thong grew damp from arousal. And just as it had been on New Year’s Eve, she longed to feel the firm, steely heat of him rubbing against the soft throbbing ache of her.
    “Annabelle…baby,” Duncan whispered in her ear. “Take your dress off for me, please. Right here. Right