The Heat of Angels

by Lisa Girolami

  “What?! No!”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “And I’m saying there’s no way. A kiss is one thing, but damn, Paige. I’m not that irrational.”

  “Who says falling into bed is irrational? Love doesn’t follow the laws of logic.”

  “I’m turning my hair dryer on now.”

  “Crazier things have happened.”

  “Not to me.”

  “Don’t knock it till—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence.”

  “I’m just—”

  Chris flicked the dryer switch on. “Not listening.”

  Paige raised her voice over the noise. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you got horizontal with grocery lady.”

  “Sarah. Her name’s Sarah. And the chances of that happening tonight are zero.”

  “Okay.” Paige stood. “Got coffee?”

  “Yup.”

  Paige left and Chris tried to focus on the menial task of drying her hair but, instead, grew more and more nervous. What if Sarah tried something like that? Things were supposed to go slowly. That’s how the world stayed in control. That’s how her heart stayed in control.

  *

  Chris followed her GPS toward Sarah’s house. Heading toward a cluster of homes nestled in a neighborhood close to the Hollywood sign, she turned onto Holly Oak Drive, a beautiful tree-lined street that was as private as most people could ever wish for. Due to the hills, the houses were only on the upward side of the curvy, ascending street. The other side dropped down to the backyards of the houses below.

  She parked at the address she’d been given and took in the house. It was a 1940s home with a classic stucco exterior, painted a stark white that reminded her of island homes in Greece. A short driveway rose upward from the street, meeting a two-car garage, and above it, the first floor was of simple, mid-century modern construction, its conventional windows designed with simple mullions. Typical of most houses in the hills, the steep front yard wouldn’t easily accommodate a lawn mower, so it was planted with ivy.

  It was a very practical place. Chris liked it immediately.

  Chris walked up the steps to the door and cleared her throat. She felt like she’d swallowed sand and chased it with sifted flour. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

  Sarah answered the door wearing a pink-and-blue-flowered scoop-neck tank top over white jeans. Chris sighed in relief. Her own jeans and long-sleeved brown tunic tee had been the right choice.

  “Hi,” Sarah said quickly, and her crooked smile reassured Chris she probably wasn’t the only one anxious.

  They stood inside the foyer and, after a moment of awkward silence, Sarah said, “A tour. Would you like a tour of my place?”

  Post-and-beam ceilings ran throughout the house, and the white paint scheme, which extended inside as well, made the place peaceful. All the rooms were loaded with light from an ample arrangement of windows. The living room flowed into the dining room that connected to the kitchen. A wrap-around deck outside provided the perfect vantage point to take in the gorgeous mature trees and lush hillside.

  “And the hallway off the living room leads to the bedrooms,” Sarah said when they’d stopped in the kitchen. An appetizing aroma of rosemary greeted her. The oven was on, and covered dishes sat on the counter. Sarah had obviously spent some time preparing for this date.

  “So, what would you like to drink?”

  “What do you have?”

  “Wine, water, whiskey, soda.”

  “Anything diet is fine.”

  She opened a cupboard. “I’m sure I have some diet Jim Beam in here somewhere.” She turned back to Chris with an impish grin.

  There, that look. It was the same one she’d had when they were talking in Laurel Canyon.

  Sarah turned toward the refrigerator. “How’s a Coke sound?”

  “Perfect.”

  Drinks in hand, Chris followed her into the living room where a long, off-white linen sofa lined the wall opposite a stone-faced fireplace. Sitting down, Chris noticed two leather armchairs on either side of the room. A few books were stacked on the floor by one of them.

  “What do you like to read?”

  “Anything fiction. That’s obviously a very general statement, but I really don’t have a certain preference. Right now I’m reading a modern-day vampire story. Next it could be about World War Two, outer space, or the Alaskan mountains. I like it all.”

  As they talked about books they’d read, Chris relaxed enough to truly enjoy the evening. Never too far from her thoughts was the kiss they’d shared. She watched Sarah’s lips as she spoke and began to daydream. What would those arms feel like if they were wrapped tight around her? Were her thighs as strong as they appeared to be? How would she look when she was about to—

  “Are you okay?” Sarah asked suddenly.

  “Yes, why?”

  “You started shaking your head.”

  She couldn’t tell her she’d just scolded herself for libidinous thoughts that centered on Sarah’s body. “The diet Jim Beam is going to my head.”

  Sarah laughed and got up from the sofa. “Well then, we’d better get some food in you. I don’t want you blowing past the legal limit.”

  Chris let out a huge breath when Sarah disappeared into the kitchen. Get your mind out of her panties, she told herself. One kiss and you’re already undressing her.

  That thought startled her because it was wrong. They needed to have lots more dates before they ended up in the bedroom.

  *

  Sarah took the rosemary chicken out of the oven and checked the temperature. Perfect. Transferring the food to the dining-room table that she’d set earlier, she retrieved a bottle of wine and paused. Chris had asked for a soda earlier. Did that mean she didn’t drink? Maybe she should serve water instead.

  Would she even like the chicken? She was fairly confident of her summer-slaw salad and home-baked rolls.

  Bottle in hand, she walked into the living room. Chris had one of her books opened on her lap. She looked so incredibly sexy just sitting there. A flurry of excited little jolts swirled around her stomach.

  “Is this okay?” She held up the wine.

  “How about something diet?”

  “Darn, I just ran out of zero-calorie Merlot. But I think I have some Diet Cokes.”

  “Are they from a good year?”

  “A little young. Two thousand fourteen, I’m afraid.”

  “Let’s try one anyway. I like to live life on the edge.”

  Sarah grinned. Dinner would go fine.

  *

  Sarah couldn’t believe they’d sat and talked until the chicken was cold and the trees outside had been obscured by the darkness that had fallen some time ago. They’d shared stories about crazy things they’d seen in Los Angeles, about the schools they went to, and about interior decorating. She loved hearing about the police academy and told Chris more about the wildlife refuge.

  Things were going very well, and the dizzy buzz of delight whirred in her head.

  “That’s the one thing,” Chris was saying, “that I need more of. I have hardly any artwork on my walls. I have photos taken by my best friend, Paige. They’re all in black and white so I think I need some color.”

  Sarah nodded. “When I travel, I always look for pieces by local artists. It’s my way of supporting them. Usually, I like unknown artists better than the famous ones. It’s really fun to discover someone on a city street or at a neighborhood art fair who’s just starting out and proud of their work.”

  “Do you buy paintings or photographs?”

  “Come here, I’ll show you.”

  Sarah took her to the long hallway off the living room. “This is where it all goes. It’s kind of like my own newbie gallery.”

  She turned the light on and was thrilled when Chris took in a breath and said, “Wow.” She watched her get close to each one, studying the designs and themes.

  “This one,” Chris said, pointing to an oi
l painting of two old women sitting on a park bench, “is really nice. Is it kind of like an Impressionistic painting? I’m not that versed in art history.”

  “Yes, it is. I really loved it because you can’t make out a lot of details, but the artist captured the mood. It’s like it tells a whole story about their friendship.”

  “And what’s this one?” She stepped over to the one next to the oil.

  “That’s an abstract,” Sarah said as she moved up behind Chris. “It’s called Kiwi Explosion.”

  “That’s a perfect title. I can see about twenty different shades of green.” Chris backed up and bumped into her. She turned around, quickly saying, “Sorry.”

  Sarah had automatically reached for Chris’s hips to catch her as she turned, and in that moment, standing so close, Sarah couldn’t tell what Chris’s eyes were saying.

  The look of surprise remained, but Sarah also saw a hint of what looked like either fear or hesitation. Whichever it was, Sarah moved one hand up and caressed the side of Chris’s face, to reassure her.

  Ever-so-slight glances at Sarah’s lips told her that maybe Chris was just a little tentative, so she leaned toward her and kissed her.

  Chris’s sexy and responsive tongue met hers, and Sarah was certain that any wavering must have just vanished.

  Strong hands reached around her and pulled her until they bumped into the wall behind Chris. Every part of Chris’s body seemed to complement hers as their hips and chests and legs fit together perfectly. Even their breathing increased in a harmonious concert that played the same rhythmic song of immediacy.

  Chris groaned and broke the kiss, resting her head back against the wall. A vein in her neck throbbed quickly, and Sarah eagerly ran her tongue over her warm, pulsing skin.

  The intensity of their kisses grew more feverish, and suddenly Chris was pushing off the wall. She drove Sarah backward until they crashed into the other wall, and Sarah felt an incredible gush of wetness between her legs.

  She was aroused beyond control now, edging to the precipice of any semblance of restraint. Each time Chris moaned, pinwheels whirled in her chest and then let loose, spinning down toward her hips and between her legs.

  Unable to stand any longer, she broke the kiss and led Chris down the hall to her bedroom and over to the bed. There, they began kissing again, and Sarah became hopelessly lost in the way Chris seemed to want to devour her. With both hands, she encircled Chris and grasped her pants, tugging her toward her. They dropped onto the bed without breaking contact. The crisp, clean sheets underneath Sarah felt wintery cool against flesh that burned as hot as the L.A. fires outside.

  Without a word between them, she eased Chris’s pants off. Chris sat up, quickly pulling off her top, and Sarah reached around to unhook her bra. A profuse urgency filled the air, thick with a demanding hunger that made Sarah grow dizzy and her legs shake.

  Chris was removing her clothes, her expression so driven and powerful, Sarah would have jumped off a cliff for her right then.

  Chris pulled Sarah down on top of her, and the sudden touch of their exposed bodies made Sarah gasp with pleasure. As if finally taking a breath from a long ocean dive, she’d never felt more alive and satiated.

  Sarah found Chris’s mouth again, wanting to connect and meld into her. They kissed for a long time, exploring each other with their hands and Sarah finding a few scars on her incredible body. She felt muscles strain and soft, supple skin. Chris’s body was like a novel and she read every page, over and over.

  Chris’s hand massaged Sarah’s nipple, drawing it into a tight erection that ached in the most beautiful way. And then Chris’s mouth was upon it, sucking and licking, causing the ache to travel down, between her legs, and grow there like an oncoming storm. And as a captain responds to the demands of the sea, Chris lowered herself between Sarah’s legs and, suddenly, Sarah gasped loudly.

  Chris’s mouth was doing things Sarah hadn’t felt before. Some incredible, hypnotic movements of her tongue and lips sent Sarah spinning uncontrollably toward orgasm.

  She clutched Chris’s shoulders, reeling from the sensations of Chris between her legs and that luscious mouth consuming her. She was reduced to nothing but the feel of her own lower lips, hot and swollen against Chris’s mouth, and then, suddenly, the beautiful tension reached its threshold, exploding with an exquisite release. Sarah screamed out a primal roar that rose and fell with the rhythm that was completely overtaking her.

  Chris held on tight as Sarah clutched her, writhing and bucking from the powerful grip of her orgasm. She came close to passing out and didn’t care. Something so incredible was happening, and she would give in to it no matter what.

  As the spasms subsided, she felt Chris stroke her stomach and they lay there, suspended in a moment of extreme satisfaction.

  Chris moved up the length of her body and Sarah caught her face in her hands, kissing her deeply. The feel of Chris’s strong arms wrapped around her brought her back to Earth, and when Chris buried her face in Sarah’s neck, she wrapped her arms around her, squeezing as hard as she could.

  “My God,” she whispered, still breathing in slow heaves. “That…that…was amazing.”

  “Mmmm,” Chris mumbled into her neck and then rolled to her side.

  “I’ve never been that loud. I hope I didn’t scare you.”

  “Not even a little.” Chris’s eyes were dreamy half slits.

  “I had no idea what the ‘serve’ part of ‘protect and serve’ meant with you cops.”

  Chris laughed and shook her head. “You’re touched.”

  “You’re just now finding that out?”

  Chris turned onto her back, lying hip to hip with Sarah. They looked toward the ceiling, and Sarah was reminded of children witnessing the awe of the nighttime stars.

  “I hope you know I had no intention of ending up here. I truly was just showing you my artwork.”

  “I didn’t expect this either.”

  Sarah found Chris’s hand and squeezed. “It was wonderful.”

  From somewhere up in the hills, a coyote yipped and was answered by another farther away. Other noises from outside came back into focus—leaves tangling in the breeze, the melodious bells of a wind chime.

  “I can’t stay the night,” Chris said after a while.

  They both sat up and Sarah reached for her top. “It’s okay.”

  It took a moment to find and then sort their clothes. They stood next to each other, and Chris looked over to her, smiling, as she turned her top right side out.

  As they dressed in silence, a bothersome thought pestered Sarah, and she fought to ignore it. She wouldn’t react to what felt like a sudden departure by Chris. She had to have a good reason, she told herself.

  As Sarah straightened her hair, Chris put her arms around her. She looked into Sarah’s eyes with an attentiveness that calmed her immediately.

  “Tonight was wonderful,” Chris said.

  They kissed, and this time it carried the gentle message that comes after a cherished evening, like a tender “sincerely yours” at the end of a letter.

  Chapter Five

  Chris scrolled down the backlog of calls on her monitor and sighed. Normally, she was off from Sunday through Tuesday, but she’d asked to work that morning to avoid climbing the walls at home. Because she was one of only two K9 officers at her station, the lieutenant easily granted her request. But as much as she’d originally hoped a busy day would occupy her mind, it just ended up being a blur of chores that required a lot of mental acuity, of which she had none.

  It was dangerous to answer police calls with a mind as absent as a politician’s promise. Most of the calls she’d answered had been mundane, largely people squabbling or reports of break-ins. If a serious call came in, she hoped to hell she’d be able to think clearly.

  As soon as she’d gotten home from being with Sarah, a torrential monsoon of guilt poured down on her. What the hell had she done? Why had she so quickly fallen into bed with Sarah? Cert
ainly, something primal had taken over in the hall—a force stronger than anything she’d ever experienced or ever thought could be possible. She’d been aware of her actions and a lone voice from somewhere in the back of her mind, telling her to stop. But she hadn’t. She’d lost control and made decisions based solely on her body’s needs.

  That was so not who she was.

  Her squad car was parked in back of a convenience store, which was good, because she needed to close her eyes for a moment and try to get rid of a hangover-sized headache of self-reproach and contrition. She laid her head back and even rubbed it roughly, but nothing was working. Her body wasn’t in agreement with her head. She could still feel the weight of Sarah’s body on hers. The feel of her soft, warm skin was so intoxicating, she could have sworn she’d been high on something.

  And even now, Chris’s uniform pants felt too tight. She couldn’t still be swollen after this many hours, but she was stimulated. Her desire was so surprisingly fervent that if Sarah suddenly walked up to the squad car, Chris would pull her inside, turn off the radio, and surrender to anything she wanted to do.

  And sex in her squad car was absolutely, unquestionably, seriously wrong. It scared her that she felt unable to resist Sarah. One stupid, irresponsible act like that and she could lose her career. The way she’d so easily imagined breaking the rules made her no different than an addict looking for a fix.

  One of the air-conditioner vents was broken, and it rattled like a metal sign in the wind. Why was it so loud today? She glared at the ninety-seven-degree reading on her temperature gauge and snatched a pen from her front pocket.

  This was so unlike her. Fear bubbled into irritation at the thought that she’d lost control so quickly. She smacked the pen on the AC vent. Impervious to her alpha personality, it kept rattling.

  There was another thing, Chris realized. She’d just blown it with Sarah. Gone was the dating period, the getting to know each other and the excitement of the buildup. It had been an absentminded, irresponsible rush to sex.

  But, oddly, it hadn’t felt like sex. Her night with Sarah had seemed so natural and not simply some kind of score.