“You could have just tossed it on the floor.”

“True, but I was thinking of you.” She raised a brow. “Still like making love with the lights on?”

“I’m flattered you remember.”

“Oh, I remember plenty of things. And I can’t wait to see if you still like them.”

“Gotta tell ya, there’s not much chance of me not liking anything you’d care to do.”

Her gaze roamed over him while her hands ran up his chest and over his shoulders. “It’s such a shame that you’re not actually gorgeous,” she said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “It’s a real stretch for me to pretend I’m enjoying myself here, but since you’re my guest…well, I suppose it must be done.”

“Certainly feel free to do whatever you think must be done.”

She whispered a single fingertip over the engorged head of his penis. “Clearly you’re very glad to be here.”

“You have no idea.”

He leaned forward to kiss her, but she shook her head and stepped back. “Oh, no. You already had your wicked way with me.”

“And you had yours with me in the kitchen.”

“Not really. That was just to get you in the mood.”

He gave a short laugh. “Like I haven’t been on the verge of detonation since the minute I saw you.”

“Then to keep you in the mood.”

“Believe me, it wasn’t an issue. But mission accomplished.”

She stroked him again and his eyes slid closed. “So I see,” she murmured. “But it’s still my turn.”

“Well, if you insist… Far be it from me to argue with a woman who’s clearly made up her mind.” Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted her against him then tumbled them onto the mattress.

“Good answer.” She urged him back until he reclined with his head propped on her double row of pillows. Reaching around him, she slid open the drawer in her bedside table and withdrew a condom, which she tossed onto the bed within easy reach. Then she urged his legs apart and shifted until she knelt between his thighs.

She tickled her fingers lightly over his inner thighs. “Just lay back and relax.”

“Relax?” A breath huffed from between his lips. “You can’t be…” His words melted into a groan as her fingers dipped into the crease of his thighs and cupped him. “Serious,” he finished.

“Oh, I’m serious. I owe you for the greeting you gave me in the foyer. And I always pay my debts.”

“Good to know,” he managed to say, although his ability to make small talk depleted more rapidly with every arousing pass of her hands and fingers over his flesh. “But as I recall, we agreed you owed me two. Possibly…aaahhh…three.”

“Hmm, that’s right. And I still owe you your prize for getting naked first on top of all that. Looks like it’s going to be long night.”

“That’s a shame. Really-” He sucked a hissing breath as one hand wrapped around him and lightly squeezed while her other hand continued to wander lazily. His ability to string together a coherent sentence fled, so he just watched her touching him, arousing him, watched her arousal increase along with his, and let her see how profoundly she affected him.

Gritting his teeth against the intense pleasure, he endured the sweet torturous stimulation of her cupping him, stroking him, squeezing him until he was on the verge of exploding. Then he grabbed her wrists to still her marauding hands.

“Can’t take any more,” he said, his voice jagged with need.

He vaguely noted the gleam of feminine satisfaction in her eyes, but he was much more interested in her reach for the condom. He barely controlled the urgent need clawing at him while she rolled the protection over him. The instant she finished, she straddled him then slowly sank onto his erection.

That slow slick slide into her body ripped a groan from deep inside him and his eyes slid closed. For several seconds she remained still and he absorbed the incredible feel of her tight heat wrapped around him.

But those few seconds were all the reprieve she gave him. She rocked her hips, and he sucked in a breath. When she rocked again, he grasped her hips and thrust upward, his control rapidly deteriorating. Again and again in rhythm to her movements, harder, deeper with each stroke. A long feminine moan filled his ears and she threw her head back. The instant he felt the first ripple of her orgasm tighten around him, he let himself go. His release pounded through him, dragging a guttural sound from his throat.

She collapsed on top of him, her arms loosely encircling his head, her face pressed against his neck. Her choppy breaths puffed against his damp skin, and a memory flashed through his mind, of the two of them just like this years ago, sated, breathless, her forehead nestled on his shoulder, his hands drifting slowly up and down her bare back.

She lifted her head and their eyes met. An odd sensation enveloped his chest, sort of like his heart rolled over and stuck its little heart arms up in the air and proclaimed Ya got me, I give up-an unprecedented reaction for him after sex.

And usually after sex, he had no problem making light small talk. But looking into her eyes, nothing that came to mind could be categorized as “light.” No, there was nothing “light” about God, I’ve missed you. Or How the hell could I have let you get away? Or No one’s made me feel like this since…you.

A half smile pulled up one corner of her mouth. “Just like old times, huh?”

He mentally shook himself, but he remained unsettled by his thoughts. Echoing her half smile, he said, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

“That’s called ‘being on the same wavelength.’”

“Yeah. Except, I was thinking that hard as it is to believe, it’s even better now.”

“And there’s that same-wavelength thing again. Or maybe we’re both just really smart.”

“We are. You know, I always did like that you were smart.”

She shook her head. “You did not. Not always.”

“Oh, yeah? Like when?”

“Like when I’d beat your pants off at Scrabble.”

“You’d beat me because I was more interested in trying to get your pants off than playing the game. So instead of wasting time trying to figure out a great word to fit in the triple word score, I’d flop down something like it or two or the just to keep the game moving along.”

Even in the dim light there was no missing her incredulous expression. He had to press his lips together to keep from laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Hell, yes. What-did you think I didn’t know any words with more than three letters?”

“Well, yeah. I thought you were just a really bad speller.”

“Nope. Just wanted the game over with faster.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I used to beat you at Monopoly, too.”

“Right. ’Cause I used to make deals that were very advantageous-for you. Next thing I’d know, I was broke, you’d won the game and off came your clothes. Which, in my opinion, really made me the winner.”

She shook her head. “Unbelievable. I can’t believe you tricked me like that.”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d be stupid enough to sell you half a dozen properties for a couple hundred bucks.”

She lifted her chin. “Humph. Well, if you’d been really smart, you might have suggested an alternate way to get my clothes off sooner.”

“Like what?”

“Strip Monopoly.”

An image of naked real-estate wheeling and dealing popped into his mind and he grinned. “Sounds like fun. Don’t suppose you have the game?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I also have Scrabble. And Twister. Maybe after dinner I could interest you in a little friendly competition?”

“Sweetheart, I’d be happy to play any game with you that involves stripping.” An image of them, naked, assuming pretzel-like positions, flashed through his mind. “Twister sounds especially promising. Actually, I remembered how much you liked to play games, so I brought one with me.”

“What game?”

“It’s a surprise. For later. For now, how about I open the bottle of wine I brought?”

“Sounds great. Are you hungry yet?”

He leaned up and lightly bit her neck. “Starving.”

She dropped a quick kiss on his lips then rolled off him. “Bathroom’s right across the hallway,” she said, handing him the flashlight. “Don’t stub your toe. Or anything else. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

Five minutes later, clad in his boxer briefs, Adam entered the candlelit kitchen carrying Mallory’s rose and Mrs. Trigali’s radio that he’d plucked from the foyer table. Mallory, wearing a short pale pink satin robe, stood at the sink, looking out the window.

After setting the flower and radio on the counter, he came up behind her. “What’s going on?” he asked, sliding his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck.

“It’s completely dark outside.”

“That’s called ‘night.’”

“No, I mean no lights-no streetlights, no lights on in the neighbors’ houses, nothing.”

“Oh. That’s called a blackout,” he murmured, brushing her hair from her nape so he could kiss the vulnerable bit of fragrant skin. And absorb the quiver that ran through her. “You, me, alone in the dark… Talk about the perfect date. If only I’d known, I would have brought over a pair of night-vision goggles.”

She turned in his arms and shot him a skeptical look. “Night-vision goggles?”

“The better to see you with, my dear,” he said in his best big-bad-wolf impression.

She laughed, then slid from his embrace and reached for the corkscrew on the counter. “While you open the wine, I’ll turn on the radio to see if there’s any news about the power outage.”

He applied himself to the bottle of pinot grigio he’d brought while Mallory fiddled with the dials. Seconds later an announcer’s voice filled the kitchen.

“…Technicians are working to restore power, but have not yet announced any estimates as to when the system will go back on line. Police are asking that people avoid driving as traffic signal lights are out, making for hazardous conditions.”