Playing With Fire by Cathy McDavid Page B

here.” His thumb found the very center of her and circled it. “And here, too.” She tensed, sucked in a harsh breath. “I will, too. Soon,” he promised.
    That was all it took. He swallowed her cries with his mouth and held her until the spasms ended.
    "You'd better get dressed,” he said and eased her to her feet. He'd put her at enough risk for one day. Making her climax, learning she still wanted him despite their differences, was enough to satisfy him. Well, almost enough.
    "What about you?” she asked, tucking in her shirt and buttoning her shorts.
    "What about me?"
    "Aren't you ... wouldn't you like..."
    "Yes, I'd like.” He held her by the hips, positioning her in front of him, and kissed her belly through her shirt. “But this wasn't for me. It was for you."
    "There you go again. Being noble."
    He didn't know if she was joking or serious. She knelt in front of him, and he realized how serious she was. “You don't have to.” Yeah. Tell that to his throbbing erection.
    She covered him with her hands. “Trust me. I'm not doing this out of any misguided obligation."
    Jolts of pleasure ricocheted through him. “Why then?” he rasped.
    "Call it a power struggle.” She opened his shorts.
    With each ping of the zipper teeth, Matt relinquished more and more of his free will. “I give up. You win."
    "Not so fast,” she purred. Taking his rock hard penis in her hands, she began to stroke him. “I told you before. I'll succeed on my own, not because you disqualify yourself."
    Damned if she wasn't true to her word. With the speed and fury of an engine barreling through traffic, he reached the point of no return. Lindsay sensed it and increased the pressure.
    Matt gripped the bench seat and swore as his lower body convulsed. Sweat popped out on his face, neck and arms. Colorful spots of light danced in front of his eyes. They faded only when his pulse rate dropped to below two hundred beats a minute.
    Lindsay stood and extended a hand to him. “We'd better go."
    They both knew they'd pushed their luck to the limit.
    He dressed hurriedly, then pulled her in his arms for a last tender kiss. “We have a breakfast date this morning."
    "Matt."
    "Breakfast,” he reiterated. “We need to talk."
    Reluctantly, she nodded.
    "Are you always this stubborn?"
    "I'm not stubborn.” Her chin jutted out.
    "Neither is a mule.” He pinched her chin between his finger and thumb. “Don't worry. I like that about you. I like a lot of things about you, Lindsay. We can review the complete list at breakfast."
    "What's that noise?” Lindsay turned toward the door. “Did you hear something?"
    "Booter must have finished his cereal."
    Lindsay gave an exasperated huff. “That dog is a sweetheart, but he can be a real pain in the butt sometimes."
    Giving himself and her a hasty once over, Matt hustled them to the door. He opened it, and Lindsay stepped out.
    She came face to face not with the station mascot, but with Dennis.
    "Tsk, tsk, tsk.” The beefy man sneered at them. “Isn't this cozy? I wonder what the captain will say when I tell him Pfeiffer was in the equipment room playing kissy-face with Callahan?"

Chapter 7
    Lindsay tried her best to avoid having breakfast with Matt, but he refused to take no for an answer and dogged her the entire way from the station to her car in the back parking lot. She agreed, only because she didn't want to make a fuss in front of Dennis and Emilio, who also happened to be leaving. She and Matt did need to talk, and they'd be better off doing so in public. In private, they tended to lose their heads, as well as a fair amount of their clothing.
    Why, she didn't know. She'd never acted like that with any other man and the fact she did with Matt confused and worried her. Reckless abandon wasn't her style.
    What happened in the equipment room proved they couldn't be trusted. If Dennis had shown up one minute earlier, they'd be seated in Emilio's office receiving the reprimand they so richly