He gave a slow nod.
“Wow. Maybe we could have coffee after the show and you could tell me all about temporal-spatial physics.”
A muscle flexed in his strong jaw and she sensed that he was uncomfortable talking about his lost profession.
She exited the freeway, and started to prepare herself for the night at the club. She’d been in her current line of work for only three months, and dancing half naked for a bunch of drooling lechers hadn’t gotten any easier than the first time she’d done it. One of the other dancers had told her to fix her eyes on one spot near the back of the audience as she danced, and pretend she was all alone.
That had helped, but it didn’t get the sound of the catcalls and whistles out of her head. So she thought of Drew’s asthma attacks and pharmacy bills that dancing enabled her to pay.
Turning from the service drive, she wound her way through the heavy Chicago traffic, then turned on to Kingsbury. She saw that the club was hopping already and swallowed hard, bracing herself for what she had to do. She felt Sean Dugan’s gaze on her.
“You seem nervous,” he said, sounding puzzled.
She gave a quick nod. “I . . . I’m just not used to this line of work.”
He still seemed bewildered by her statement, but otherwise didn’t respond. She pulled into a parking space behind the club, put the car in park, switched off the engine and turned to face him.
“I’m really glad Mitch hired you. Scientists aren’t usually as buff as . . .” She couldn’t believe what she almost said. “You won’t let anything happen to Drew. Or to me. Will you?”
He gave a shake of his head, his gaze roving from her eyes to her mouth. Staying on her mouth. “No. I . . . What does the man – the stalker – look like?”
It was hard to catch her breath when he looked at her like that. She leaned a little closer, hoping to catch the scent of his aftershave. “He’s tall, but not as tall as you,” she said quietly. Sean moved a fraction closer. She could see every one of the thick black lashes that framed his eyes. “H-his head is completely bald, but he has a tattoo on the back of his neck. I think it’s a bird – maybe an eagle – with its wings spread.”
Dugan touched the edge of Erica’s hair with one finger, then slid it down the side of her face. Her eyes closed and she felt her heart speed up as he cupped her cheek. No one’s touch had ever affected her so quickly, so potently.
She felt his breath on her face, and then a soft feathering of his lips against hers. Shivers skittered up her spine.
Erica leaned in. Slipping her hand around to the back of his head, she pulled him closer, meeting his kiss, deepening it. She hardly noticed how chaste a kiss it was until she slid her tongue past his lips and felt his gasp. He pulled away and looked at her, stunned.
“I – I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I never should have—”
He pulled her to him and kissed her, a hard, open-mouthed, hungry kiss, full of promise, full of . . . wonder.
Erica lost herself in it, in the pure, raw sensuality of his kiss. She’d never been touched this way before, with pure sexual heat in tandem with an unexpected sense of something entirely different. Reverence? Astonishment?
He tasted fresh and pure. His passion seemed innocent and safe, but at the same time it was sophisticated and dangerous. Confusing.
She pulled away, touching his lips with her fingers. “I-I have to go, Sean. I’m on in ten minutes.”
“On?” He looked as stunned as she felt.
“Stage.” She blushed for the first time in a long time. “Dancing. You know.”
“But . . . The neuro lab. I thought—”
She looked at him, startled. “How do you know about that? Did Mitch tell you?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah. Mitch.”
She put her hand on his forearm. “Listen. This was the only job I could get that pays the bills. As soon as the economy turns around, I’m going to finish my PhD and get out of here.”
Five
Sean was in so far over his head, he didn’t know quite what to do. Erica jumped out of the vehicle and practically flew to the door of the building. Sean didn’t get out right after her, but stayed where he was, looking around for the bald stalker while he tried to gather his wits.
And do something about his unfortunate state of arousal.
Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. He’d never been kissed or even thought of kissing a woman the way Erica had kissed him. Sex in Sean’s time had been downgraded to one of the lower functions, done only when absolutely necessary. And certainly without the kind of zeal Erica had shown.
