Page 7 of Hot Under the Collar

She started to walk away from him, but he gently caught her hand again before she was out of reach.

“Please come inside. Just for a little while,” he said. His voice was low, a little rough from kissing her. “I don’t … I don’t want this to be over yet, Lynne.” He swallowed hard, looking at her like he was memorizing her. “You’ve spent all night taking care of everyone else. Let me take care of you.”

He knew she knew what he meant by it. She was dressed like a goddess, and if she’d just follow him inside, he’d spend the rest of the night worshiping her.

Lynne stood frozen, a torn look on her face, but her fingers still twined with his.

“Look,” Leo started, “I know I’m younger and—”

She cut him off. “I need you to not remind me of that right now. And if you say the word ‘babysitter’ even once, I swear—”

“Okay,” he chuckled. “Got it. Fair enough. And I know even suggesting this is probably insane. But …” He exhaled audibly. What could he possibly say to convince her he was sincere? That she wouldn’t regret staying with him a little longer and seeing where this went? “Ten minutes,” he murmured. “That’s all I’m asking. If you still want to leave after that, I won’t stop you.”

She turned and glanced down the alley toward the bar then slowly back toward him. Then, without another word, she followed him into his apartment building. He grabbed the jar of cherries and helmet on their way in, still holding her hand as they walked down the hallway to his door. He remembered all the times this had been in reverse when he was a kid—her holding his hand as she led him somewhere, not how it was tonight. It sent a thrill through him. He released her hand for a moment to unlock the door. But before they could even make it inside, she was all over him again, hot and bothered and desperate for his touch.

They stumbled against each other, tangled up, teeth clanking clumsily as they tried to kiss in the dark. His helmet fell to the floor with a clang, and for a moment they lost themselves in muffled laughter. Leo found the light switch by touch and flicked it on, the dim glow haloing her hair like something unreal. He nudged the door shut behind them then slowed their pace, pressing soft, deliberate kisses against every part of her face except her mouth.

He lifted her hands and planted a kiss against the tender inner wrist of each one, breathing in the warm, sweet scent of her. Her fingers skimmed up the back of his neck, a featherlight glide that sent a sharp, electric shock down his spine.

“Holy shit, Leo,” she whispered against his earlobe.

He couldn’t have said it better.

He led her to his bedroom, thankful he’d cleaned up the place earlier today. Aside from some of his gear, the apartment was spotless in anticipation of his buddies coming over or possibly ending his birthday night like this, in the arms of a beautiful woman. Just not with Lynne. He’d never imagined the beautiful woman would be with Lynne. A part of him still couldn’t believe it was with Lynne.

He gestured to his bed, and she sat hesitantly on the edge of it, eyes scanning every inch of his room. But as he slipped off his turnout coat and suspenders, her gaze returned to him again. He caught her blue eyes and held them with a smile as he shimmied out of his pants and peeled his feet out of his boots and fire-safe socks.

He stood before her in just his navy station t-shirt and boxer briefs, measuring her reaction. He didn’t get to linger this close to Lynne very often anymore. It wasn’t like their paths naturally crossed. A wave at the grocer’s. A nod at the town’s Fourth of July fireworks. He wanted to burn this image of her sitting in his bed into his brain, all while hoping it wasn’t the last time he’d get to see it.

She bit her lower lip.

“I know you’re concerned this might be a mistake. But I promise you—it’s not,” he said. “Let me show you.”

He knelt and kissed her knuckles, slowly, one by one, and massaged the palms, offering tenderness to a part of her she always used but rarely pampered. Her bare fingernails and velvety skin warmed as he caressed her. Then he lowered to her feet and removed her slippers. She pulled her feet back for a moment. “You don’t have to, Leo.”

“Why? Are you ticklish or something?” he asked.

“No, just,” she swallowed, “self-conscious. About my feet. I wasn’t expecting this. I haven’t had a pedicure in—”

“Your feet are perfect, Lynne.”

His thumbs worked circles into her arches with a slow, deliberate pressure that made her bite her lip again. Each slow press coaxed her deeper into comfort, and she melted at his touch. Shoulders dropped, jaw softened—tiny changes he felt proud to cause. He felt ridiculously honored that she let him do this for her. Clearly no one ever had taken the time to before. To him, those small, delicate feet were just another thing he could worship, even icy cold. It was simple, but it felt like the most intimate thing he’d ever done.

His fingers stroked up the inside of her calf—a single, teasing pass—and he heard her breath catch again.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he blurted out. He didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help himself.

But what she said next cut him. “We go way back, Leo. Just … be honest. This isn’t some phase, is it? You know—being with an older woman?”

Leo knew the town had talked about him like this ever since he’d hit puberty. Ladies’ man. Heartbreaker. Playboy. And, yes, sometimes he was those things. He loved to flirt. But there were other sides to him, too. Sides Lynne had known well before all of that. Sincerity. Vulnerability. Those parts of him were still here, in this room, with them.

“I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you right now, Lynne,” he told her. “Not just this. You.”

She sighed. “I just—I don’t want to be crossing a line. I don’t want to take advantage of you either.”

“You’re not.”

“And you’re not, like, a virgin?” She seemed embarrassed to ask. “I’m really ruining this, aren’t I? I mean, I’ve heard things, but I don’t want to make assumptions.”