�It�s hot,� she noted, seeing anew the blue of his eyes that matched his shirt. Duncan had been right to warn her, she thought somewhere vaguely in her head. Her laughing dark-haired friend had told her quite seriously to not look twice at his kinsman Connor MacLeod. His expression had been very solemn that morning: a curious thing when his eyes danced so merrily at the same time. Duncan warned her not to look twice.

And she had.

Stared.

Connor MacLeod stared back, eyes level and piercing right through her. The medium length brown hair was a bit unruly in the back and he was unshaven, altogether a bit untidy as if a room unswept. He wore a typical blazer and dress shirt. No tie. A white undershirt peeked out from his neck and she had the sudden urge to see if there was another layer beneath it.

All evening, while music played and wine was served and people laughed, she watched him � constantly aware of where he was in the room. He stared right back boldly.

Duncan caught her eye at one point and just shook his head at her as if admonishing a child. She frowned at him and could hear him laugh aloud from halfway across the room. He waggled one forefinger at her as if she had already committed a sin.

Don�t look twice. Forbidden fruit. Don�t touch. Don�t taste. Don�t look.

And now, the garden. She finally had to escape the heat and noise ... the sensation of her skin being on fire. And he was waiting; eyes just as measured, face just as stilled.

Those eyes! she thought, drawing irresistibly close to him. Blue on blue, like endless summer skies and when she looked in them, she could see ... forever.

He didn�t move when she reached to touch the coat and draw the lapels aside. It fell off his arms unhindered and pooled on the tile. The buttons were a small matter ... how many times had she stripped a man�s shirt off of him anyway? She had lost count.

He didn�t move until she reached the very top button and then it was only to lean slightly, eyes drilling intently into her face, lips parting � asking without a sound. Yes, of course, the kiss is the next step, she thought and straightened to meet him.

Wine. Heat. Softness impossible for a man�s lips, but truly his. Gentle fingers creeping around her waist. A curious tongue, touching hers only briefly and gently before his teeth nipped along her lips, exploring. She had to lean on him under the press of longing, waiting to be possessed again.

He took his time: nibbling, breathing, tasting the flavors on her lips and neck and ears.

Duncan warned me not to look twice, she said within. Damn. I should have listened. Damn. I�m glad I didn�t. What would he know about this?

She tugged on the undershirt until it was loose and slid her hands up the warm skin, so soft and nearly hairless beneath her hands. His nipples peaked under her circling fingertips and he sighed very softly against her neck. She could feel the thrum of energy and power gathering in his lean body, the instinctive press of his hips against her.

�Duncan warned me not to look at you,� he said and pressed his mouth over hers.

Heat. Passion. An insistent kiss that she surrendered to, plundered by those eyes that had watched her all evening and ravished by his sudden hunger. It was too hot outside under this moon and her clothes were too confining. He groaned against her teeth and blew his breath like a steed when she sucked on his tongue. Desire was like a fire through all their clothing.

�I warned you not to look!� cheerfully called Duncan MacLeod from the patio door. �By moonlight? Really, you two! Get a room or the dance will be called because of the night show!� He pointed his finger up at the window on the second floor. �Third door on your left,� then he turned to go.

He was almost inside, the music swelling around his silhouette, when he called back, �oh, Connor? Tuck that shirt in before everyone knows what you�re after. And you,� he fired at her in mock irritation, �try to keep your hands off him until you get upstairs, hmmm?� He returned to the swaying music and the swirling people, shaking his head in mock consternation.

Duncan grinned widely all evening as he danced ... and never saw his two friends reappear. He had to sleep on the couch. �I tried to tell them,� he said to the round moon through the window. �No one ever listens to me.� He was still smiling when he went to sleep.

MacNair
11/17/00
Fru attack by SharzCDC!
The title was supplied by the person who fru'd the picture on the board

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