His objection sounded ridiculous because he’d picked up his share of women at this very bar. He must have been getting prudish the closer he got to forty.
“I think you’re spending way too much time thinking about that canelo, because you haven’t noticed I’ve been hitting on you,” Isadora used the word for cinnamon to describe McClunis’s hair.
His head snapped back around. She didn’t sound pissed, but more amused. “My bad. I guess my brain was still on duty.”
She sipped his beer. “Are you going to leave me hanging? We didn’t just meet.”
That was very true. They’d run in the same circles for years and on occasion had worked together for a common cause, particularly in her family’s sad situation. However, she’d been married then, and she’d never indicated any interest before today.
Her wedding ring, he knew, was three years in the grave, just like the age of her cousin’s tombstone.
“Why today?”
“I spent a full shift being someone else and getting hit on by guys who ‘slimy’ doesn’t even being to describe. What’s wrong with seeing what happens with someone I actually know?”
Resolving to forget the firehouse and its newest member, Mateo took her hand, which was as tan as his own. “In that case, would you like to take a walk?”
She tapped her chin. “Can you put in a little more effort?”
“Querida, it would honor me to take a walk with you to the desired location of your choice—be it my place or yours.”
“My place sounds good. My kitchen is very nice. It was just remodeled with my alimony money.”
He put out his cigarette and finished his beer. A taxi would have to do because he was not getting behind the wheel.
She lived on the west side, so he spent the ride examining the lovely Isadora Reyes with very different eyes.
Sure, he’d noticed her before as a colleague in the functional sense, and on occasion he’d idly wondered what she looked like naked. But then again, what guy didn’t do that?
Married women had always been out of bounds as far as he was concerned. Yet today, she’d made the effort to make sure he noticed she was in play.
To help him out, she leaned forward to show off her curves and licked her lips.
His cock twitched in response and jumped when she set his hand on her thigh. The small calluses on her right hand caressed the larger calluses of his left. Hers were probably from her cuffs and night stick. His were from gloves and hoses, drilling every day.
Guess he’d find out soon enough.
Chapter 2
Theymaintaineddecorumuntilthey were through the door of her apartment building. After she deadbolted the door, Mateo twirled her into him. “Your kitchen is very nice.”
There had been a recent remodel, not that he cared much.
He bent forward, being three inches taller than her, and kissed her open mouth. She kissed him right back, tongue darting out to meet his as the furious rush of desire climbed. They hadn’t even discussed a relationship or what this meant… why the hell wouldn’t he take a taste of this delicious offering?
“If you like my kitchen, the bedroom is even nicer. It has the best pussy cat you’ll ever meet.”
He stuck in hand in her hair and play-meowed. “You have a cat?”
“No, but this wig is pretty close.” She pulled a couple of pins and detached the wig from her head. The blonde hairball landed on her kitchen counter and he saw her real hair had been tightly coiled under a wig cap.
Before she could undo it herself, he took her wrist and whispered into her neck, “Let me.”
She dropped her hand and allowed him to begin.
From Mateo’s perspective, undressing a woman for the first time should have been a sensual and savored experience. Releasing her hair needed to be similar, and with every rubber band he removed, her hair expanded. By the last loop, she had a shoulder-length chocolate mass of waves that fit her far better than the bleach blonde monstrosity.
She sighed, “I forgot how good it feels to be free.”
