Chapter 1

"Meet me in front of the restaurant," Kate said over the phone.

"I'll be right there."

I flipped my cell phone closed and smiled to myself. I was already halfway to my car, and looked back at the big Antebellum house that was the Jazz Club. I imagined Kate, standing in the bar, slightly winded from her mad dash up the stairs, her leggy blonde friend staring at her in bewilderment.

The thought of Kate bolting out of the ladies' room and racing up the stairs, completely disheveled, appealed to me. I grinned at the thought. After the day I'd had, I needed a good laugh. All day I had spent my time counting (almost literally) the minutes until I could see her. When I finally had seen her, I had been this close--I mentally held up my fingers, a hair's breadth apart--to having sex with her in the ladies' room. But I hadn't, and that's the other reason I was smiling. Instead, I had given her my phone number and told her to call me. Then I had walked out of the restaurant, leaving her hot and bothered.

She had called me, and I had heard the desire in her voice. With another smile, this one of anticipation, I pocketed my cell phone and headed back towards the restaurant.

I was just rounding the side of the porch, heading for the front door, when it flew open. Still shrugging on her coat, Kate walked out onto the porch and looked the other way. I chuckled quietly and began walking towards her. At the sound of my footsteps, she turned towards me and her face softened. She finally got her coat situated and took a few steps towards me. I stopped, to let her approach me, and stuck my hands in my pockets, grinning the whole time.

She smiled as she walked towards me. When she saw my grin, she raised her eyebrows.

"What's so amusing?" she asked archly.

"You. Me. Us."

"So you think this is funny?"

I shook my head and tried to compose myself. "No, it's not really funny. But someday, we're going to look back on this and laugh." I couldn't help myself, and started grinning again.

"Oh? What makes you think we're going to be together long enough to reminisce?"

"Because you know what you like," I said teasingly.

Her eyes flew open in surprise.

"And I know what I like," I said quickly.

She cocked her head to the side and looked at me, still bristling.

"I like you," I said simply.

Her face softened and then she smiled. She walked towards me and hooked her arm through mine. When she started to pull me with her, I resisted. Her brow creased as she looked at me expectantly. I pulled my hand from my pocket and slid it around her waist, pulling her close.

"Mmm," she said. "I can't wait to get you home."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Let's go."

I shook my head. "Not yet."

She half frowned. "Not yet? I called you. What more... ?"

"Shhhhh," I said, and then kissed her. "I want to get to know you better."

"I'm a woman who wants to fuck you. What more do you need to know?" She ground her hips against me, and I almost gave in. "I'm not used to taking no for an answer," she said dangerously.

"Ah, good," I said, as lightheartedly as I could. "It'll build character."

Her eyes flew open in surprise, again, and I grinned shamelessly.

"Let's have some dinner, a nice bottle of wine, and get to know each other. Then we can see where things lead," I said.

"They'd better lead to my bed." She thought for a moment and then smiled ingeniously. "I know! Why don't we do things my way? I've got food at home, I've got wine at home, and we can get to know each other later. Right now, I need to be fucked."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Patience, Kate. Let's do things my way. I'll make it worth your while," I said seriously.

She leered at me and then pursed her lips in thought. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, she finally nodded. "Okay, we'll do things your way. But I think you're going to wish you'd done things my way after all."

"We'll see," I said.

I turned her towards the front door of the restaurant and pulled her close. Once back inside the Jazz Club, the hostess gave us a startled look. I chuckled ruefully to myself and had no trouble figuring out why. I had left several minutes before. Kate must have made quite a commotion, first when she flew out of the rest room, and then when she came bursting out the front door, looking for me. Now, we were back. Together.

I took Kate's recently donned coat and hung it in the cloakroom, then hung my own next to hers. When I stepped back to the stand, the hostess had composed herself and was looking at me with an air of professional competence. Her eyes were smiling, however, and I grinned in reply.

"Is the Jungle Room available?" I asked.

Kate looked at me inquisitively and the hostess smiled. She consulted her seating chart and then nodded.

"Could you put a table for two in there for us? We'd like to have a little privacy for our dinner."

"Certainly, sir. Just one moment."

As soon as she'd stepped away to find a busboy, Kate looked at me. Her look said she expected answers, and that I'd better start coughing them up.

"You know the dining room at the top of the stairs?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Behind that is what used to be an upstairs porch, or some kind of sun room. It's got a couch and a couple of chairs in it, but they also book it for small, private parties."

"I see."

"I don't know what they call the room, probably something boring like 'The Back Porch Room, ' but we call it the Jungle Room."

"And why is that?"

I smiled guiltily and explained. "The furniture is this wicker stuff, and the upholstery is a big jungle print. The room is decorated with bamboo and... well... it's just jungle-ish," I said sheepishly.

"I see. Well, Tarzan, while they're setting up our room, I'm going to go freshen up."

My eyes flicked to the rest rooms and I nodded. I almost chuckled, but caught myself at the last moment. Kate's hair was mussed and her makeup, slight as it was, was a little smudged. Also, her clothes were disheveled, from when we'd gotten worked up in the ladies' room, earlier.

I admired the swing of her hips as she walked away, letting my eyes drift up the long line of her back, to her shoulders. With a guilty grin, I realized that she was watching me, over her shoulder. When my eyes met hers, she smiled, tossed her hair, then closed the rest room door behind her.

When she returned, she looked lovely. She had straightened her blazer and school-girl skirt, freshened her makeup, and brushed her hair. Her shiny, dark brown tresses flowed around her shoulders in a wave, and she smiled as she walked towards me. Something was different about her, I decided, but I couldn't figure out what.

Just then, the hostess returned, and I stopped wondering what it was. The hostess picked up two menus and a wine list, and then escorted us upstairs. The Jungle Room was normally cozy, but with a small table and two chairs, it was downright intimate. I held Kate's chair for her and then seated myself. The hostess handed us our menus, and me the wine list, then silently departed.

I'd barely begun to study the menu (despite the quality of the food, I rarely ate at the Jazz Club) when Julie tapped lightly on the door and entered. She looked at us in surprise, but quickly composed herself, quirking her lips in a slight grin when she looked at me.

"Are you serving tonight?" I asked, surprised to see her.

"Yeah. The bar was slow, so I picked up a table in the upstairs dining room, then they gave me your table."

She told us the specials, and I looked at the wine list.

"White or red?" I asked Kate.

"Hmm?"

I nodded at the wine list.

"White, please."

I don't know wine like I know Scotch, so I simply ordered a Riesling from a vineyard I recognized. While Julie was gone, getting the wine, Kate studied the menu. I studied Kate, studying the menu. She caught me looking at her, smiled, and then licked her lips sensuously. When I shifted in my seat, to give my growing erection room to expand, she smiled knowingly and returned her eyes to her menu.

Julie returned in a few minutes, bearing the bottle of wine and two glasses. After I had gone through the motions approving the wine, checking the cork and tasting the small amount she poured in my glass, Julie filled Kate's glass, and then my own.

Julie took our orders, the grilled swordfish for Kate, and a salmon in dill sauce for me, and then left the room, closing the door behind her.

"You know her?" Kate asked, indicating Julie.

"We're friendly. I come here most every Tuesday, sometimes other days. When the bar is slow, we'll talk. She's a nice girl."

Kate merely nodded. Then she lifted an eyebrow speculatively, and I held her gaze. She grinned and took a sip of wine, and I silently started breathing again.

"I don't know if you actually had time to read that card I gave you," I said. She blushed at the unspoken allusion to her mad dash up the stairs. "But it would have told you that I'm Ethan Mackenzie." I extended my hand over the table.

She took my hand in her own, her grip firm and dry. "Kate Kirilov."

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Kirilov. So, what is it you do for a living?"

"It's Doctor Kirilov," she said with a smile. "And I'm a pediatric surgeon."

I couldn't keep the shock from my expression. "Really?"

"Are you surprised? Surprised that I'm a surgeon, or that I'm a woman surgeon?"

I felt my face and ears heat, and I brushed at an invisible crumb on the linen tablecloth. "Neither really," I said hastily. "It's just not what I pictured you doing."

"Oh?"

"Well, no. Not really. But... Well, there's this thing I do. I like people watching, and as I watch them, I like to make up 'their story' in my head. Who they are, what they do, why they're doing what they're doing, etc."

"So what was my story?"

"I don't know really," I admitted. "I hadn't decided yet, I guess. I was probably too busy going out of my mind with desire."

It was her turn to grin and blush, and I used the pause to regroup and change the subject.

"My partner and I have a company that does custom software and internet applications."

"I gather your company is doing well?"

"Well, we survived the Dot-Bomb. Not many companies did, not in our line of work. We do a lot more than web stuff, though, which is why we're doing well. We do a lot of different things for our clients, and we do them well, so our business is growing."

"If your business is growing, how come you spend so much time in bars?"

I blushed again. "Actually, that's only this month. December is a slow month for most of our clients, we don't have many retailers as clients, so Gabriel and I try to schedule things so most of our teams can have the month as a vacation month. Things get pretty intense when we're on a deadline, so we work hard, we play hard, and we let our people recover before we push them hard again."

"I see."

"'You can eat a sheep only once, you can shear it many times, '" I said, reciting the quote with a grin. "Also, a lot of our programmers are overseas, so all I've really got to do this whole month is keep up with them. Not to change the subject, but... Kirilov? Russian?"

"Yes," she said simply. "My parents are expatriates."

I sensed something in her voice, but I couldn't tell what; almost a hesitation. I worked with Russians--one of our major programming groups was in Moscow--and I was curious. I didn't want to press the issue, however, so I let it drop.

There was a soft knock on the door, and Julie entered with our Caesar salads. I thanked her and she left quietly, once again, shutting the door behind her.

"I almost forgot," Kate said as she unfolded her napkin. "I'm supposed to be making you regret not doing things my way."

I arched an eyebrow at her.

She grinned, nodded, and began unbuttoning her blazer. Then it struck me! I knew what was different about her, what I'd noticed when she'd emerged from the rest room, but what I'd failed to identify. The sheer blouse under the blazer was simply gone. For the past fifteen minutes, I'd been admiring her tanned neck and upper chest.

Her eyes sparkled as she slowly unfastened each brass button, revealing more and more of her chest. I became instantly erect as she reached the last button and slowly pulled the blazer open. She stopped just as the soft inner curve of each breast was revealed, and laughed richly when she saw my expression.

"You like?" she asked in a sultry voice.

"Very much."

"Would you like to see more?"

I nodded.

"If we were at my place right now, you could touch them, kiss them. I'd like that very much."

I looked her in the eye and she grinned wickedly.

"But since we're doing things your way, they'll have to wait for later." She chuckled and dropped her hands. The blazer hung open, revealing a narrow expanse of tanned skin; I shifted in my seat. She picked up her salad fork and began eating nonchalantly. "So tell me," she said. "Why did it surprise you when I told you I'm a surgeon?"

I was shocked for a moment at her abrupt change in conversation. Reluctantly, I drew my eyes away from her taut stomach, and picked up my own salad fork. "Most of the surgeons I know are men, and I always got the impression that it was a big Boy's Club."

"Oh, it is," she said quickly. "Not so much these day as it used to be. There are a lot more women surgeons than when I was in school. But we're still very much the minority."

"Is it as competitive as I imagine it is?"

"It depends," she said. "Yes and no."

I looked at her questioningly and forked another bite of Romaine lettuce into my mouth, determined not to look at the gentle swell of her breasts.

"There's competition in and out of the hospital."

I looked at her questioningly.

"Inside the hospital, sometimes it seems like it's more about 'I just did this incredibly complicated surgery, ' or 'I just got a patent on my new device.' Things like that. When I was a resident, it was very competitive, because surgeons are the cream of the crop, and most everyone wants to be one. With a limited number of surgical residencies, it's very competitive. Now, it's a different kind of competition.

"Outside the hospital, well, some surgeons are simply in it for the money. It is a big Boy's Club sometimes--who's got the best trophy wife, who's got the most expensive car, house, boat, whatever. I'd like to think that most of us are in it because we love it, and we like saving lives and helping people, but that's not the case. A lot of surgeons are, but a lot of them like the lifestyle more than the work."

"I gather you're an 'I like saving lives' type of surgeon?"

She nodded. "I'd have to be!"

I was taken aback by her intensity.

"Becoming a pediatric surgeon is a lot more work than just becoming a surgeon, and you'd have to really want it. Not only did I have to study pediatrics, I had to study surgery as well. That's not something you do if you're only interested in the money. I like the lifestyle as well, believe me, but I really like saving the life of a child, or seeing the look on the parents' faces when I tell them that their child is going to be okay."

"Yeah, that must be nice."

"It really is," she said, and took a bite of salad.

She used her hands when she talked, and her jacket strayed open, revealing more and more soft flesh. I shamelessly decided to ask her more about herself, in the hopes that the blazer would drift further open.

"Why did you decide to become a surgeon?" I asked.

"My parents. My mother really. She wanted me to be a doctor, but I wanted to work with children. I thought I wanted to be a teacher, but she kept pushing me to go to medical school."

She took a sip of wine and wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin. Her blazer slid open a little further, revealing her breasts almost to the nipples. My erection swelled further at the sight, and I shifted into a more comfortable position.

"But when I got to medical school, I found that I really liked it," she continued. "When we went through our rotations, the last couple years of school, I discovered that I liked surgery. I was second in my class, so I was easily accepted into the surgical residency, and then after that, I had a pediatric surgery fellowship."

"Impressive," I said.

"Thank you," she said graciously.

She set her fork down, and without warning, grasped the lapels of the blazer and pulled them apart. I refused to take the bait, and held her gaze. She smirked, and then moved her hands to cup her breasts. The thumb and forefinger of each hand pinched her already erect nipples, rolling them and pulling gently.

"I can't wait to get your lips on my nipples." She closed her eyes and enjoyed the pleasure she was giving herself. I let my eyes drift lower, staring intently at her perfect breasts, which were partially hidden by her kneading fingers. "I want you to fuck me from behind, and I want to feel your hands on my tits, pulling my nipples as you plow into me." She opened her eyes languidly and focused on me. "Would you like that?"

I swallowed hard, restraining myself from simply lunging over the table. When I nodded, she grinned, and I began to regret my choice in pants. The jeans made my butt and legs look good, but were tighter than I would have liked, especially with a swollen cock made harder still by Kate's teasing.

She let her hands drop, and demurely picked up her fork. "But we'll have to have patience." She smirked at me. "This salad is really good," she said, changing gears abruptly. "You should try it." She forked a bite into her luscious, red-lipped mouth and her eyes sparkled playfully as she looked at me.

I started eating, but I'd barely finished my salad when there was a soft knock on the door. Julie entered a fraction of a second later, but Kate made no move to close her gaping blazer. I looked at her curiously and she merely smiled. Julie did a double-take when she went to remove Kate's salad plate and the large charger plate beneath it. I looked up at her when she removed my plates, and her wide-eyed expression almost made me chuckle. But she wordlessly finished clearing our plates and left quietly. Kate merely grinned audaciously and took a sip of wine.

Julie returned a moment later with our dinners. I watched her as she set Kate's swordfish on the table, and smiled to myself while she covertly studied Kate's nearly bared chest. When Julie set my plate down, she smiled tightly, but I could tell that her breathing had quickened, and her face was slightly flushed. When our plates were both on the table, Julie refilled our wine glasses and then asked if we needed anything else. I told her we were fine. She nodded and quietly left the room, making sure the door was securely shut behind her.