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It occurred to them simultaneously that they were standing chest to chest. One was breathing with such agitation as the other. Their blood was running hot and their tempers were high. Emma felt her nerves sizzle like fallen hot wires that snaked across a rain-slicked street. His arms went around her, met at the center of her back, and jerked her against him. Emma went limp with desire. Then, mounting as one, their mouths came together in a ravenous kiss. She folded her arms around his neck and provocatively arched her body into his. His hands slid over her derriere and roughly drew her up high and hard against the front of his body. Their breathing was loud. So was the rustle of their evening clothes. Their mouths twisted against each other, their tongues were too greedy to exercise finessing. Ray walked her backward into the wall, which served the original purpose of his hands by keeping her middle cemented to him. Ray's fingers curved lightly around her head and held it in place while he gave her a hungry kiss. The kiss was carnal. It had a dark soul. It touched off elemental sparks that were exciting to Emma as the first tongues of flame were primal to man. It conveyed that much heat, that much promise. She attacked the studs on his shirt. One by one they landed sound lepsly on the carpeting. She peeled the shirt wide and bared his chest. Her open mouth found the center of it. He swore with pleasure and reached behind her for the fastenings on her dress. They eluded his fumbling fingers. Fabric was ripped, beads scattered, and sequins rained down. Neither was mindful of the damage. He worked the dress down over her shoulders and planted a fervent kiss on the upper curve ...

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