Incandescent (15-Chapter Excerpt)

Incandescent: Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Self conscious and nervous during their dinner, Anna talked too much and too fast. She recounted stories from her childhood and growing up in Eaton. She also told him about her freelance photography career and the offer to teach a college course.

"Sounds like you have a good thing going here," he observed.

"I suppose. If you had asked me yesterday morning, I wouldn't have agreed. Strange how one thing can alter your outlook isn't it? Wow, this has been a one-sided conversation," she quipped. "Oh wait, it isn't a conversation, is it? This is an interview. Do you think you have enough notes?"

Aaron looked into guarded eyes and watched her jaw clench.

"No, this isn't an interview," he said. "I'm trying a new tactic. It's called, 'being nice.'"

She caught her breath as he grinned, his teeth flashing brilliant white against dark skin. "Do you think you might call me Anna, now that we're better acquainted?" she asked.

"I might."

"Good. So, tell me about you. About your work. About your childhood."

"I'm not interesting," he said, intense green eyes raking her. "Where did you go to college?"

"Uh huh, quit changing the subject. It's your turn. What's your heritage?"

"Lebanese," he said. "Third generation. My family immigrated through Ellis Island in the early 1900s."

"Lebanese?"

"Mostly. My mother is American."

"How long have you been a fireman?"

"Fire fighter," he corrected her. "A long time. Seriously, I'm boring. What did you say your dog's name was?"

"Aaron," Anna pleaded, placing a hand over his.

Hungry to touch her, he took her hand into his and stroked her palm and wrist. His warm touch ignited a blaze in her stomach. "Your dog's name is Aaron, too?"

The corner of her mouth twitched. "It's my father's dog and his name is Fred. Any more questions?"

"Would you like dessert?"

"Thank you, no."

She looked down at her hand still clasped in his, then lifted limpid eyes.

"My God, you're breathtaking," he whispered.

"I was thinking the same thing about you."

"Let's get out of here," he said. He flung several twenties onto the table and stood, pulling her out of the booth. He strode towards the exit, his hand burning Anna's back. "Keep the change," he muttered to the waitress.

Outside in the twilight, he pulled Anna towards the truck at the back of the parking lot. She stood silent against the cool metal as he unlocked the passenger's door and opened it. Then he turned sideways, holding out a hand.

Instead of getting into the truck, Anna curled into the crook of his arm. She felt his hot breath on her cheek and turned towards his mouth. She sank her fingers into his hair, grabbed a handful and pulled his head down, her mouth fusing to his.

Aaron would have fallen over if the truck door hadn't been open and supporting him. His hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer, his head exploding as her tongue danced with his, her teeth nipping his bottom lip. He hissed as her mouth seared his cheek, moving to his ear.

"You asked for this," she whispered. "You've been coming on to me all evening."

"I, ah, have no excuse."

"Neither do I," she said, laying her head on his shoulder. "I'm not sure what's come over me. I guess I've been a little lonely."

Aaron grasped her wrists, pulling them from around his neck. He cradled her fingertips, not wanting to lose physical contact.

"It's a good thing you're not a suspect," he said. "I'd have to remove myself from this investigation."

"Don't worry; I'll behave."

"It's not me I'm worried about," he said, "and it's too late to start behaving."

He hoisted Anna inside the truck, jumped in after her and slammed the door behind him. His mouth captured hers as he pressed her onto the bench seat, pulling her shirt from the waistband of her jeans. Fevered hands stroked her ribs, then cupped her breasts. She moaned into his mouth as he rubbed his thumbs against her bra. Anna tugged at his shirt, frantic to touch his hot skin.

He continued to caress her with one deft hand, while the other unbuttoned her shirt.

"Yes, touch me," she whispered. 

His tongue sizzled as it slid along the edge of the lacy fabric of her bra and Anna moaned, arching her back. He tugged at the straps, his touch burning a river. She whimpered when he sucked a rosy nipple and bucked under him, tormented by the ache he created.

Aaron raised his head, adoring her flushed and frantic face. Relishing her kiss, he captured her mouth again.

Anna slid cool hands down his back and beneath the waistband of his jeans, pressing him closer. Her hips wiggled against his erection. He groaned at her touch. She squeezed and stroked, encouraged by his response.

Aaron fought for control, his forehead pressed against hers as he gritted his teeth. "Stop, stop. Don't do that."

Embarrassed, Anna flinched, dropping her hands to her side. She turned her head, focusing on the gas pedal. She took a risk, following her instincts, but she'd gone too far. He didn't want her. 

He shifted his weight, swinging into a sitting position. He sat silent, staring out the side window while Anna pushed her bra straps back on her shoulders. 

Scooting against the far side of the truck, she straightened her shirt and buttoned it. She combed her fingers through her hair and licked swollen, dry lips. She stared straight ahead and waited for Aaron to make the next move.

"Well, unless you're going to drive, I guess I need to move over," he said, his voice strained and husky.

Mortified, she struggled for composure as she scrambled into the passenger seat and searched for her shoe. Her hands shook as she buckled the seat belt.

Aaron studied her profile. Her chin was high, a sure sign she was embarrassed and insulted. She thought he rejected her. "Anna, I don't want to treat you with disrespect. If I had made love to you tonight ..." he said, his breathing still ragged.

Anna lifted a hand, a barrier between them. "But, you didn't," she interrupted.

Aaron started the truck and drove out of the parking lot, heading down Main Street towards Gretchen's house on First Avenue. He stopped the truck, letting it idle in park.

She opened the door and flung herself out. Aaron tried to follow, but it was too late. Anna raced up the porch steps and slipped the key in the lock. Within moments she was inside, the door slammed behind her, the light turned off.

Aaron climbed back into his truck, then roared off into the night, putting First Avenue and Anna Johnson far behind.