The request surprised him. He couldn't imagine what she found so interesting but did as she asked, watching her watch him.

Audie was fascinated by the single thick vein that ran the length of the inside of each arm, branching off into smaller veins that wrapped around the forearm and wrist. His arms were a soft pink-peach, sprinkled with light freckles and covered with a dusting of hair. The same hair covered his chest and narrowed to a V shape between the ridges of his stomach muscles.

It came as a shock to realize she knew exactly what he felt like in all those places, how warm his skin was, how hard his muscle felt beneath her fingertips. She also knew how bracing he smelled and how smooth he tasted.

She sighed. So what if Quinn was full of himself? He was the most exquisite male specimen she'd ever seen, and beneath the hard-ass cop routine, he was the kindest man she'd ever known.

And he said he loved her, so he must be a very brave man as well.

Audie stared, breathing quietly, feeling the room grow thick with tension and desire. She'd tried to be honest with him. But was she honest with herself?

She told herself she didn't know how to love him-but she desperately wanted him, right now. Was it wrong to want his body? Was there anything wrong with taking what she wanted and giving him what he obviously wanted, too?

"The belt, Quinn," she said, her voice unexpectedly husky and low. She laughed at herself, embarrassed. "I mean, what's in your little pouch, good-lookin'?"

Quinn enjoyed the way her cheeks and chest flushed. "This is called a sporran, Homey, and its made of horsehair, and I keep real important stuff in here, so don't be smart."

His hands went down to the snap and opened it for her, revealing a wilted twenty-dollar bill. "Beer money."

"How about in the back?" Her eyes were expectant and bright.

Quinn twisted the black leather belt around to reveal a second, larger pouch and opened it. He took things out one at a time, held them up for her inspection, and placed them on the chair. "Car keys. Badge. Service weapon. Handcuffs." He unbuckled the belt and laid that on the chair as well.

She harrumphed a little and her brows drew up tight. "Do you always have to carry your gun, Quinn? All the time?"

"Except when I'm in the shower or asleep or naked with you, yes."

She inclined her head thoughtfully and saw him bring his hands to the button at the waist of his kilt.

"Stop right there, buster," Audie said sharply. "Don't move."

She scooted down and let her legs flop over the edge of the bed. Her nose was level with the button in question.

She leaned back on her hands and looked up into his eyes. "Tell me all about the kilt, Stacey." The corners of her mouth rose ever so slightly.

"What do you want to know about it?"

"Absolutely everything," she said, shaking her hair around her shoulders.

Thesight of this woman beneath him, her hair spilling out behind her, her breasts just screaming to be touched-that was all bad enough. But then he felt her left toe start to tickle the hair on his right shin, moving higher along the inside of his calf, then around to theback of his knee.

He noticed that to inflict this agony, she had to crook her knee out to the side, and the flared skirt of her dress fell away, revealing lots and lots of bare inner thigh.

"Jaysus, Audie."

"The kilt."

"Yeah. Uh, the colors of the plaid are, uh, Douglas blue for the Chicago Police Department, green for Ireland, and white for the City of Chicago. Do you like it?"

"Lovely," she whispered, removing her toe from his skin. "Could you come a little closer, Quinn?"

Heput his hands on his hips, and it was then that Audie noticed a definite change in the neat, straight pleat at the front of Quinn's kilt, as if it was hitched on something, something that was becoming more of a disturbance with each passing second.

She let her eyes travel up to his face and saw how his green eyes burned down at her.

"I'm not going to bite you," she said demurely. "At least not too hard. And I've had all my shots, like Michael."

He tooka step closer, and Audie let her fingertips graze along the backs of his knees. She was surprised when Quinn shuddered and started snickering.

"Don't tell me you're ticklish, Detective!" Her hands pushed higher beneath the light wool tartan, her palms resting flat against the long, solid muscles at the back of his thighs, the warm skin, and the fine covering of hair.

Quinn tried to breathe easy, but he was looking at her face, and that was not the place to be looking if he planned on relaxation. She was holding his gaze and bit down on her bottom lip with a question. Then the little pink tip of her tongue licked at the very same spot, and Quinn let out a soft groan.

Suddenly her hands swept higher and cupped nothing but bare muscle, and Quinn felt his skin burn beneath her touch.

"So it is true," she whispered, smiling up at him with delight.

"Only on special occasions."

"Such as…?"

"Such as whenever you plan on putting your hands on my ass-that's special enough."

She tilted her head back and roared, which he watched appreciatively. "So you knew I was going to do this, did you?"

"God, I was hoping. I ditched my drawers in the kitchen."

She laughed some more and then squeezed his hard butt with her hands. "And how about this, Detective? Did you hope I'd do this?"

She leaned forward and brought him closer, her hands clamped on his ass, and began nibbling at him through the plaid. First she scraped her teeth into the root of him, then helped herself to a hard mouthful.

"Jaysus." Quinn whispered, his head thrown back and his eyes closed. He spread his feet a little wider for balance and let his hands drop to his sides.

Audie moved her knees apart and snuggled him in tight, resting her bare legs against the outside of his calves. Her hands still gripped him, held him secure, while her mouth searched and kissed and bit at the big erection threatening to push through the flap of the kilt.

Audie grabbed the edge of the scratchy fabric with her teeth and moved it to the side, and the thick, satiny head of his penis burst through the curtain.

She was there to catch it, and he was inside her mouth, polished-smooths hard and hot, and she felt his fingers brush through her hair and grab on. His body moved instinctively to take advantage of what she offered.

Audie trailed her fingertips in lazy circles around his bottom and then reached up under his legs to cup his testicles. She felt his entire body shiver under the light touch. She pulled away.

"Wait, Quinn. I'm such a slow learner. I'm supposed to give it a little slap first, right? To get the juices going?"

"Whaaa…?"She did.

"Holy God, woman. You're going to kill me."

"And then I put my mouth on the reed and blow, right? Then play the chanter with my fingers?" She ran her tongue along the underside of his cock. "It might take some practice before I get the hang of circular breathing. I hope you don't mind."

Her wet lips parted and she welcomed him back inside. Quinn didn't know whether to laugh or cry and his head was pounding and the room was spinning and all he felt was Audie and it was as if all the power in the universe was concentrated right there in her hot little mouth.

"Audie?" he croaked out, his hands now reaching down to gently touch her face.

She raised her eyes but continued to give him a wealth of slippery, sucking kisses. She stopped when she saw a shadow of unhappiness in his face.

"What is it?" She sat up straight, thinking to herself that she'd done something wrong or she'd hurt him-but she didn't slap him that hard-or maybe he didn't like what was happening, though it certainly didn't appear that was the problem. "What's wrong?"