Red Hot Heart
by S. J. Perkins

 
 
 

Fire in the Hills 
Part One

 I saw her watching me as she bumped and swayed to the heavy pounding beat.  She watched me as I sat, long legs stretched out, feet planted firmly on the burgundy industrial carpet.  I had my drink in my hand and my back to the bar as I sat and watched her watch me.

 At first I thought she was playing some game with a lover; a lover who had caused her some recent grief.  Sheíd picked me out as soon as sheíd arrived at the club that night.  She reached the top of the stairs and strode across the bar on long lean legs, full ass swinging with each step.  She glanced in my direction as she approached the bar; a certain huffiness about her that said, "donít bother me, Iím a royal bitch."  Showing no outward expression, I looked off toward the dance floor.
 
     With her back to me safely now, I had the pleasure of checking her out.  She was a nice-looking woman -  no doubt.  Long smoky brown hair falling in heavy waves around her shoulders, the rounded ass snuggled up tight in faded denim.  She wore her jeans long over black pointy-toed cowboy boots.  Very tasty looking, very sexy.  

 She mustíve felt my eyes on her as she ordered her drink, for she threw another ice pick my way with her steely gray stare and bounced off through the crowd.  Shaking my head slightly, I chuckled softly to myself and sipped my drink.  Some women take themselves way too seriously.  Not me, I was just out blowing off some end of the work week steam. 
 
   Friday couldnít have come too soon this time around.  The week had been hell.  Monday started off with a nasty officer-involved shooting; the officer involved being one of my green rookies.  A simple vandalism in progress call had rapidly evolved into a thirteen-year-old boy with a wide hole in his chest.  I donít think I would have mistaken the spray paint can for a gun, but then I hadnít been a rook in over ten years.  I wanted nothing more than to spend a leisurely couple of hours unwinding and watching the crowd.

 As I scanned the dance floor mob, I caught her staring at me.  She was dancing with a tall blonde chick with a spiky haircut and staring hard at me.  Iíd seen this game before; in fact Iíd been the victim of this little ploy on more than one occasion.

   Donít ever dance with a woman whoís mad at you.  Especially if her reason for being angry has something to do with your alleged wandering eyes.  Itís legendary - she catches you or just imagines that she has caught you resting your eyes somewhere they donít belong.  She has a small hissy and you try to appease her by taking her out to the dance floor.  Your intention: show her just how into her you really are by taking her out on the floor for a public display of your genuine attentiveness.  Her retaliation: she will find a woman sitting off to the side alone, catch her eye and proceed to give her the full treatment. The whole hip shaking, ass wiggling, lip pouting, breast heaving show while you stand like a dummy trying to prove to her that you werenít flirting five minutes before. 

 Like I said, itís legendary and I was sure this long-legged fox was putting on the same show for me right now.  All the signs pointed in that direction.  She was wearing a black cowboy hat.  Not the ten-gallon cowpoke variety, but the sexy Rodeo Drive variety.  The brim was smaller and curved down in the front.  She wore it low down on her head and was watching me intently from underneath the brim.  The long ends of her loose, white button up blouse were knotted and pushed into the top of her jeans.  Her breasts stirred sensually under the flowing loose cotton of her blouse.  

 I watched for a moment then looked away.  Like I said, I knew this game well and I wasnít about to be a party to her partnerís humiliation.  She could find another target for her jealous games.  I watched the top of the stairs for awhile; watched the ladies enter the bar, look around briefly to get their bearings, then proceeded on into the action.  I found it fascinating to watch people adjust to their surroundings.

 A couple songs later and my eyes roamed back across to the dance floor.  She was still at it.  But something wasnít right...she was dancing with a different woman now and still staring me down.  I gave it right back this time...just to see where it would go.  The song ended and to my great surprise, she turned to her dance partner and put a friendly hand on her shoulder in a gesture of what seemed to be gratitude.  Like "thanks for the dance, stranger".  Maybe I had her pegged wrong after all.

 As the next song began she headed off toward the ladiesí room while I followed with my appreciative eyes.  She had a modelís willowy figure.  Halfway there she stopped to speak to a foursome of women seated at a low table, they all greeted her warmly, some standing briefly to peck her cheek.  She carried on toward the ladiesí room and I turned on my stool to order another drink.  

 When I turned around again she was there directly in my line of sight, headed straight for me.  I decided to play it cool.  I planted one boot firmly on the floor, cocked the other up on the wrung of my stool and leaned my elbows back on the bar.  She strutted toward me presenting me with a beautiful view of her tanned, freckled cleavage.  She had readjusted in the ladies room and apparently it was for my benefit; she was bringing it to me on a platter now.

 I would be a liar if I said I was completely calm at that precise moment.  But it was my immediate goal to at least appear to be in control, so I reached over for my drink and took a quick pull.  She stood in front of me now, watching me with that same intensity that had seared me from the dance floor.  I stared right back at her in silence; this was her game...let her serve it up.  Finally she spoke and the honey just dripped off her tongue.  Her words came sugarcoated in the most delicious Southern accent.

 "Hey there, gorgeous,Ē her voice was low and velvety.  In a flash my whole-preconceived notion of this woman melted to the ground.  The slate that had "royal bitch" previously chalked up on it, was wiped as clean as the first day of school.  "Hi, yourself," was about all I could manage, just happy as hell that I hadnít choked on those two simple words. 
 
 "Buy you a drink?" she proposed.  "Absolutely,Ē I replied, my hand still wrapped around a fresh Bacardi and Coke.  She moved sideways abandoning her spot in front of me, approaching the bar to place her order.  She was cool, copping a move that even I had never thought of.  She didnít ask me what I was drinking...she ordered her drink and asked the bartender to refresh mine.  Smooth move, very much in control.  I filed that one away for future use. 

 Moving back to her spot in front of my outstretched legs she handed me my drink, coolly ignoring the fact that I had a full drink sitting beside me on the bar.  This woman was surprising me with every classy move she made.  She carried herself with a refined elegance and an air of complete self-assurance that lacked any hint of audacity. 
 
 "Iím Chris,Ē I said, holding my hand out to her.  She took my hand and squeezed gently replying, "My name is Cass.  Itís nice to meet you, Chris."  She pulled her hand back slowly keeping her beautiful gray eyes on me the whole time.  "Youíre here by yourself arenít you?"  she asked, already knowing the answer.  "I am.  And you... is there someone waiting for you back on the dance floor?"  She smiled shyly now as her cheeks colored deeply.  "No, no one is waiting for me."  I sensed her embarrassment and realized she wasnít quite as bold as she was trying to appear.  "I saw you on the dance floor.  I like the way you move."  I smiled at her trying to ease her sudden shyness.  My statement seemed to have the opposite effect.  Her color deepened and she lowered her eyes with a reserved smile.  "I was trying to get your attention," she said in that sweet sexy drawl. 
 
 Now this was refreshing, I thought to myself - a devastatingly beautiful woman who is not only classy, but shy and polite as well.  And here she was volunteering information that most women wouldnít give up without a search warrant.  She actually admitted that she was trying to attract me.  A warm feeling began to spread across my chest as I looked into her eyes and invited her closer with a slight smile and dip of the head.  

 She read me correctly and took a step in closer toward me.  She now occupied that triangle of space between my outstretched legs.  I reached out, took the glass from her hand and set it down on the bar behind me.  A fast salsa type song ended and a slower sultry song began to play.  She looked at me with a questioning look, her eyes motioning toward the crowded dance floor.  I let my eyes burn into hers, and slowly closed my legs a bit trapping her into tighter quarters.

  Now she was feeling my vibe.  She let her left hand drop down onto my right thigh as she began to sway slightly with the music.  I closed my strong legs tighter now so that with every lean and sway of her hips she was pressing into my inner thighs.  I felt my stomach flutter with a trace of excitement and cocked my head back slightly not taking my eyes off her face.  This private dance continued and she reached her right hand out and caught hold of my waist at hip level.  She hooked her thumb down into the top of my jeans and seized me firmly by the waist.  The music rocked on as I reached for my drink and took a heavy pull.  Replacing the glass I leaned my elbows on the bar behind me and slowly arched my back, pressing my hips forward toward her now insistent body.

   Now totally aware of the sexual play that was unfolding before me, I dropped my eyes to her breasts and let them linger.  Seeing my gaze change direction and my jaw tighten, she began to wriggle her shoulders slightly, causing her supple, generous breasts to ripple under her open blouse.  I pulled my gaze away from her breasts and our eyes locked once more. 

  Pulling my elbows off the bar, I reached for her and wrapped my hands around her slender waist and pressed my legs even tighter around her swaying body, now holding her completely captive.  "Letís go," I said nodding toward the dance floor.

   I stood and led her across the room and up the steps to the crowded floor.  Our bodies pressed together and moved with the beat for a few moments.  Cass moved in toward me and purred hotly into my ear, "You have a gorgeous physique, Chris."  By this time I was on fire and her warm sexy breath in my ear nearly pushed me over the edge.  I pulled her in close with my hand at her back and felt her warm heavy breasts pushing against mine.  Breathing in her fresh clean scent, I spoke softly into her ear, "Weíre wasting time here...come home with me right now."  I felt her body tense up against me and cursed myself for speaking too soon.  Pulling back I searched her face expecting signs of hesitation, instead I found her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. 

 Suddenly she let her arms fall from around my neck and took my hands in hers.  She searched my eyes intently with her own; I waited for the question that was on her lips.  But she kept silent, biting down on her bottom lip.  There was something she wanted to say...or ask; I knew the look but didnít press it.  Finally a sly smile crossed her ruby lips and she pulled me off the dance floor and towards the door.

 My car was parked right out front.  I deposited her safely in the leather bucket seat, hopped in next to her and sped off into the night.  I punched on the CD player immediately.  Now that we were alone, speeding through the darkened streets it hit me that it had been quite awhile since I had had a casual one-night stand.  Suddenly at a loss for words, I turned the volume up and concentrated on maneuvering my car through the tight twists and turns of the Hollywood Hills.
  
 My concentration shattered as Cass turned sideways in her seat and began to wreak havoc on my sense of confident self-control.  She leaned over and ran her warm hand over the entire length of my thigh.  Then she tickled playfully around my neck and in my hair, and traced a ruby-nailed finger slowly over my lips.  "I imagine youíre a very good kisser...you have very sensual lips.  Has anyone ever told you that?"

   Now, Iíd had a wealth of sexual experience in my thirty-two years, but I hadnít been this worked up in a long time.  It took every bit of control I could muster to keep myself from whipping the car over to the side of the road and grabbing her right there in the front seat.  

 She leaned into me close now and began to lowly purr out her attraction and desire.  The overpowering combination of her long nails grazing the sensitive skin of my inner forearms and her hot breath whispering in my ear caused a riot in my brain and it took a mighty and concentrated effort just to keep my car in the correct lane of traffic.  Finally, my house came into view. I pulled into the long driveway and shut the car down.  She waited while I came around to open the door for her.

To Be Continued...


©S. J. Perkins


 
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