Part 5 (1/2)

That kiss had been a far cry from lame. It had been perfectly hot and thoroughly stimulating. Almost comparable to New Orleans.

Kisses she'd been unable to find since. A kiss that had just walked out of her dressing room.

Stunned out of her heat-induced ignorance, Paige grabbed her s.h.i.+rt from the nearby chair and raced from the room. She barely had time to shove her arms inside before she barreled into the throng of the club.

Her gaze raked her surroundings. Who the h.e.l.l was that? What the h.e.l.l was that?

She scanned the faces in the crowd, then realized she had no idea who or what she was looking for.

What was the woman wearing? Had she even gotten a chance to notice her clothing with all those hot breaths against her flesh? What color was her hair? How tall was she?

”f.u.c.k!” Paige desperately searched the cl.u.s.ter of people. She now knew what it felt like to be mugged and be unable to give a decent description.

”Was the perpetrator male or female?” an officer would inquire.

”Female. Trust me, she was all woman.”

”What color were her eyes?”

”Yes. She had eyes. They were on her lips. I mean, s.h.i.+t! Chocolate. Sinfully chocolate.”

”How tall was she?”

”Oh, about yay high. Her mouth came to about here.”

”Can you tell me what she was wearing?”

”Um. Not sure if she was wearing any clothes because her tongue was in my mouth.”

How pathetic!

No one stood out. The bar was lined with women and men. Her bartender was handing out flyers for the community park cleanup for the following day.

Great. Just f.u.c.king great! What the h.e.l.l just happened? Why was she so d.a.m.n turned on? There was something seriously wrong with her that the only time her core awakened was when someone was hiding behind a mask, hypnotizing her with hot whispers and a velvety tongue.

She needed some serious help. Lord help her, every part of her body was alive. Paige hadn't felt that kind of heat since a masked stranger pulled endless cries of satisfaction from her.

And once again, she was gone.

Paige drove home without any clear idea how she got there. She couldn't stop thinking about that kiss. How perfect it'd been. Wanting another. Wondering who the h.e.l.l the mystery woman hidden behind the mask had been. Her lips promised much, if only she'd stayed around long enough to deliver.

Was the phantom the answer she'd been seeking all these years? That her emotions, her libido, only awoke behind a secret?

She didn't believe so, but at this minute in time, she wasn't so sure anymore.

With a grunt, she entered the house and locked the door behind her. She went directly to her bedroom and kicked off her shoes. She needed to be alone with her thoughts, with her fantasies, with the memories.

Was there a chance the woman would show up again? A possibility that Paige might get to experience New Orleans all over again?

She shouldn't hope, or wish, but she couldn't help herself. She longed for it. Craved it. Was desperate for it.

When she turned to the bed, she found Damien curled in the center watching her.

He knew good and d.a.m.n well her bed was off-limits. Someone was in a brave mood tonight.

She crossed her arms and the staredown began, Mr. Evil glaring with those hard green eyes, refusing to give up his territory. Her territory.

Paige glared back, refusing to lose the staredown battle, again. Seconds ticked by, his tail doing that determined slow wag against the comforter, the one that said, ”Try me, b.i.t.c.h.”

”I should have left your starving, fur-knotted a.s.s in the Dumpster where I found you.”

His tail slapped again with a wicked thump.

”You could have been doggy treat for some ferocious Rottweiler if not for me.”

Slap.

”Maybe I'll just get a pit bull. A big a.s.s pit bull.”

Slap.

Paige's eyes burned.

”With a ginormous head and teeth like a werewolf.” She demonstrated by loudly chomping her teeth together.

Evilness hissed at her. His tail slapped hard again.

Paige's eyes watered.

”I'll name him Rocky, or Monster, or even Killer. Yeah. Killer. Got a nice ring to it.” She s.h.i.+fted to her other hip, water pooling in her eyes from her determination not to blink. ”Killer's favorite meal will be evil orange cats. And he'll use your whiskers for dental floss. And hide your tiny little bones all around the house to chew on when he's bored.”

His tail slapped again, and a low rumbling growl penetrated from somewhere deep inside him, yet he didn't turn away, nor did he blink.

d.a.m.n cats and their ability to win every staring contest.

Paige lost the battle and blinked. She stomped her foot and pointed toward the door. ”Get the h.e.l.l off my bed!”

He slapped at her, hissed again, then he jumped down and fled from the room.

Paige undressed, crawled into bed, and pulled the computer onto her lap. She opened the link to her blog, then tapped her fingers.

Normally, she'd already have a blog written out in her head. She'd know exactly what she wanted to get off her chest or what s.e.x toy she wanted to brag about.

But not tonight. Right now, she couldn't think of anything to say other than posting a reward for the mystery woman. She'd pay handsomely for just one night with her. One f.u.c.king hour.

She read through some of the comments on her blog earlier in the night hoping the words would stir within her. The Goth. Pink hair. She'd turned her down, then slunk to her secluded little garden to blog.

The garden. That was it! She'd blogged on the bench. A person had been shuffling their feet and clearing their throat. Paige had heard them but was in a hurry to get her thoughts into cybers.p.a.ce before her routine.

The person wearing white sneakers and faded blue jeans had been her mystery woman. f.u.c.k! Why hadn't she looked up? Why hadn't she acknowledged that someone was trying to get her attention?