His Purple Heart

8 - Dark Alley

So there I was, for the second time, talking to the enigmatic and charming Trystan Debney in a dark alley in downtown New Orleans. The clouds had drifted so that a sliver of moonlight landed across his face. He watched me intently as if I was some kind of puzzle he couldn't figure out.

"So what's it's going to be?" I asked, referring to his comment about not letting me get away this time. "Kidnapping or punishment?"

His eyes widened, but he recovered quickly, a small quirk curving his lips. "Neither. Although I must say, I'm very good at punishments. I usually use my bare hands on bare skin and sometimes the occasional paddle. You would hate and love every moment of it."

I licked my suddenly dry lips. "You get down dirty."

"Only if you want me to."

What was happening right now? Were we flirting?

His eyes narrowed and then traveled from my pointed heels, caressing my heated skin, up past my short dress, over my breasts to my face. Goosebumps rose up on my skin and my nipples hardened beneath the frisky material of my bra. I cleared my throat and adjusted my bra strap, totally overwhelmed by the feelings he was evoking in me.

He wore a black leather jacket, a white t-shirt and jeans. Again I found myself fascinated by the tattoos peeking out at his neck. He had a strong neck, the kind a girl could hang on to for dear life. His leather jacket didn't help much in hiding his fit physique. It was open, and hanging on his shirt I spotted the army tag I'd suspected him of having. He never took it off apparently.

"Why is your lipstick smeared?" he asked.

His question caught me off guard and I wasn't sure what to make of his tone. He sounded serious and I watched as his bedroom eyes hardened into courtroom eyes. I lifted my hand to touch my lips, but he stopped me. A small jolt of lightning struck me where his hand touched mine and I shuddered. Every cell in my body had been awakened by that one simple touch to the back of my hand.

"Let me,' he said.

His calloused thumb gently wiped away the smudged lipstick. I kept my eyes locked on his face. He was so gentle that I felt tears prickling at the back of my eyes. This was just what I needed to erase the memory of the douche bag touching my face earlier.

I wanted to tell him about what had happened to me, but I couldn't speak. Or breathe for that matter. His touch had stolen the words from my lips and the breath right out of my lungs..

Slowly, I found myself leaning toward him. His lashes lifted and his intense gaze pinned me down with a look I couldn't really read. I glanced away, afraid he might be able to read the want in my eyes. Using his index finger, he nudged my chin upwards and this time his eyes were windows. I looked through them and saw his need... raw, pure lust. Something inside of me melted, hot liquid discharging into my veins.

He licked his lips and I couldn't help but follow suit. Frown lines appeared on his forehead and I worried that I'd done something wrong. I shifted uncomfortably and he smiled.

"What is it?" I asked in a whispery tone.

"You're a little seductress." His hold tightened on my chin.

"I am not."

He stared at me for a long time saying nothing. The heat from a few seconds ago was back in his eyes. He was going to kiss me. I could tell. Did I want him to kiss me?