He nudged the front door of his house open, and then kicked it shut behind them. “Will spread it all over town that I carried you into my house? And will probably embellish it by saying that I practically stripped you on the sidewalk and fucked you against the street lamp.”

“She won’t say ‘fuck’, but yeah.” She arched her eyebrows. If people wanted anything to be discreet in a small town, they made damn sure the town gossip did not find out. He was from L.A. Maybe he thought it was only in Mayberry TV-land that gossips told the whole town, who then knew your business, and felt free to chat with you about it.

“Well, that’s fine.” He sounded unruffled as he set her on his kitchen counter. Oh, man. The whole place looked like something out of Architectural Digest. She almost whimpered.

Focus, Aubrey. Future sex life at stake here. She was not interested in having her customers comment about her boffing the police chief. Even if she intended to do so. “Um, you know I have to live in this town? And no nice girl is going to date you now because they’ll think we’re an item. It doesn’t matter if they all know Mrs. Chambers is making it up.”

“Then we’ll have to make it the truth. You’ll just have to date me.” He shrugged and started to feel her up. She told herself he was just checking for injuries, but her hormones didn’t care. Price was here, and he was sliding those big, strong hands over her body.

She clenched her teeth to hold back a different kind of whimper. “And fuck you against a street lamp? I think not.”

“We can improvise.” He angled a cocky glance up at her. “Fucking me in my house is close enough.”

She laughed, inserting as much derision in her tone as possible. He didn’t need to know that the thought of fucking him anytime, anywhere, made her quiver, did he? No. No, he didn’t. And that was her final answer… at least until they’d gone out once or twice. Well, once would probably do at this point.

She pushed herself forward on the counter until her feet touched the floor. “Well, thanks so much for—”

His eyebrow arched, and that wicked flash of white teeth in his tanned face was her only warning before he crowded her against his cupboard. His hands braced on either side of her. Trapped. He leaned forward until his eyes were level with hers, until his lips were a whisper away from her mouth. “Laugh now, sugar. But I’ll have you stripped bare and in my bed tonight. Count on it.”

She swallowed hard, fumbling for something witty to say, but nothing came to mind. Heat spiraled tight within her belly, and liquid flooded her pussy.

“I—” Her breath rushed out on a whoosh as she pictured them together, naked on soft sheets in a big bed. Oh. God.

Yes. She wanted that so much. Her heart leapt and began to race, the muscles in her legs shaking with the effort to keep her upright.

The sides of his eyes crinkled when he grinned. His green gaze dropped to her lips, and they tingled. She licked them, and his gaze followed the motion. One hand lifted to bracket her jaw and hold her in place while he closed the infinitesimal distance between them to brush his mouth over hers.

She shouldn’t let him get away with his cocky proclamation about sexing her up, but damn. The man could kiss. Her mind went hazy, and time seemed to stretch. His lips played over hers in slow, worshipful sweeps. Not demanding, not taking. It wasn’t what she’d expected. Nothing about him was what she expected. She shouldn’t let him touch her, but right now she couldn’t remember why.

His hands curved around her ribs, one sliding down to cup her backside, the other moved up to palm her breast. He pulled her pelvis flush against his, and the ridge of his cock rubbed her through their pants. She wanted him inside her. She burned with the craving. Still he kissed her, licking his way into her mouth, twining his tongue with hers.

His thumb chafed her nipple, circling the nub until lightning strikes of pleasure flashed from her breast to her pussy.

A moan tore from her throat and she tried to climb him, wrapping her legs around his waist.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as he ground against her. She fisted her fingers in his hair, sucked his lower lip into her mouth and arched into him.

Ripping his mouth from hers, he let his head drop back. She slid her tongue up his throat, the hot, masculine taste of his flesh flooding her mouth. His breath hissed between his teeth. “Aubrey—”

“Price.” She bit the corded muscle in his neck and he shuddered, jerked back and set her on her feet. Swaying, she slid her hands over the muscled planes of his chest.

“So, I was just about to have dinner.” He grabbed her wrists, stilling her movements. Her breath caught and her eyes popped wide in shock as he stepped away from her. The shrill beep of a timer going off echoed in the big kitchen. He smiled. “Right on time.”

“You’re stopping?” She was going to kill him. Dead. Her whole body screamed with want, her skin felt too tight, and she would implode any moment.

He stroked a finger down her arm, and goose bumps followed in the wake of his touch. “You’ve never heard of foreplay, sugar?”

Shoving both hands in her hair, she tried to straighten the mess. “That was more than foreplay, damn it.”

“Not the way I do it.”

Damn him, now she wanted to know how he did it. She bit back a snarl. She had two options here. She could stomp out in a huff for him toying with her and leaving her high and dry. Wet. Whatever. Or, she could eat dinner and then make him carry through on all those promises. The needs rushing through her body made the first one a non-option.

“Okay. We’ll do it your way.” She grabbed the edge of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head, dropping it on the counter. Her bra was a barely-there scrap of lace, and the cool air brushing over her arms and midriff made her shiver.

His eyes heated as he took in her bare skin, but wariness also flashed in his gaze. “What are you doing?”

She offered him up a smile sweet enough to send him into sugar shock. “Foreplay.”

His breath whooshed out as she flicked open the snap on her jeans and made a slow show of pushing them down her legs. He reached for her when she stepped out of the denim. She danced out of his reach, smacking his hands away.

“Ah, ah, ah. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

“You little—”

Arching an eyebrow, she ran her fingertip around the lace band of her panties. “Don’t start a game you don’t want to play, Chief.”

“Oh, I want to play,” he growled, emerald fire flickering in his eyes.

“Good.” She sauntered over to the stove to peek in and see what they were having. Some kind of casserole. It smelled great. She didn’t care, she just wanted Price to touch her again, but she’d play this out to the end.

Eating was a dance of erotic pleasure. Every movement, every bite, every breath heightened the need between them until she could have cut through the sexual tension in the room with a knife. Her nipples were so hard the lace of her bra brushing against them was painful. Her underwear was damp with moisture, and she kept her thighs crossed tightly to try and suppress some of the ache between them. A hot blade of want sliced through her until she couldn’t stand it anymore. Setting her plate aside, she stood from the dinner table.

In one fluid motion, he was on his feet, blocking her path. “Going somewhere, sugar?”

“Yes.”

He folded his arms across his broad, muscled chest. “Oh?”

Giving him the kind of smile that should have sent his blood rushing straight to his groin, she spun toward the staircase. She let her fingers trail up the silky smooth wood of the banister as she mounted the steps. His heavy tread followed her up. Her breathing sped until she was almost panting with the excitement twisting deep within her.

Reaching behind her, she unsnapped her bra and tugged it off to hang on the newel post at the top of the stairs. The wide balcony overlooked the living room as well as the dining room with their abandoned dishes.

An open doorway directly across from her showed rumpled navy blue sheets on a king size bed. Grinning, she spun around and crossed an arm over her breasts to cover herself from his view.

He chuckled. “You can’t play shy now, sugar.”

For each step he took forward, she took one back. He jerked his T-shirt over his head and dropped it on the carpet.

The backs of her knees hit the mattress and she let herself fall. She cupped her hands around her breasts, tweaking the nipples with her fingers. He groaned. Slipping one hand down over the swell of her stomach, she dipped into the damp lace of her panties. “You seem to think I have a problem starting without you.”

“Oh Jesus.” He stripped out of his jeans so fast, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he had rug burns on his legs.

Which was fine with her—he deserved some pain for making her stop for dinner earlier.

He didn’t wear underwear. Interesting. A smile curved her lips as she looked him over in all his sculpted glory. He was beyond beautiful. Golden skin stretched taut over hard muscles. His cock jutted in a heavy upward arc. The fading sunlight from the window flashed on the bead of moisture at the tip of his dick.

She bit her lip and rubbed her fingertips over her clit. Her knees fell open against the mattress, and she arched into her hand. Moisture slicked her fingers as she circled her clit slowly, teasing herself, teasing him. His brilliant green gaze burned a path from her taut nipples to her lace-covered pussy. She could feel the way he moved his gaze over her like a caress, and it only made her yearning deeper. Choking on a breath, she plunged two digits into her hot channel, fucking herself with her fingers while he watched. “Now, Price. I want you now.”