Thanks to everyone for waiting for over a month for this next chapter. So sorry it took so long. When we last left Bobby and Amy, they were up in Utica at the winery, and Bobby had just found out about the threatening letters. And so it begins, ladies.....thanks to ciaddict for her help, especially with the Mike Logan story line part; LOVE YOU!!!!! tuda!

Chapter 21

It had been a long two weeks and Bobby was exhausted. He was also frustrated; nothing was happening fast enough to suit him and now he was sitting in Captain Ross's office with Eames and Amy because of it.

Amy had finally and hesitantly revealed to Bobby that night that she had gotten ten similar letters in the two months since Laura's murder. There were two more in her office at the winery and seven in her desk back in New York.

She had watched slightly amused as he had treated the letters and envelopes with kid gloves. She was amazed when he took several food storage bags, notebook paper and duct tape and turned them into very serviceable evidence bags. Each letter and envelope carefully went into a bag, was labeled and sealed. He even explained to her everything he was doing and why.

He had wanted to go back to the city that night. They argued about it. He wanted forensics to get started on processing the envelopes right away. She countered that there was nothing more he could do other than turn in the letters. She wanted him to stay with her, as planned. She still wanted to stay and get her work done and show him around the winery. They went back and forth and finally reached a compromise. Amy agreed to let Eames into her office to gather up all the other letters and tag them for evidence. Bobby agreed to stay for the rest of the weekend, knowing that Amy was correct that there wasn't anything more he could do.

Although distracted, Bobby enjoyed the rest of his weekend at the winery with Amy. He was impressed by the setup and her intimate knowledge of all things wine and grape. Together, they climbed over and inspected every barrel in the warehouse, walked many of the rows of plants in the fields, and saw to it that the machinery was ready for the fall harvest. Amy taught Bobby how to tell if a grape was ripe or needed more time simply by the smell and feel of the small orb. She showed him the entire fermentation process, even encouraging him to participate in bottling and laughing with him at his feeble attempts at sealing the bottles.

On Saturday night, Amy even made good on her promise. She carefully dressed herself as Marilyn Monroe and slowly descended the stairs, catching him off guard in the living room where he was sitting in a large leather recliner, going over his notes from the night before.

"Happy birthday, to you," she began to sing breathlessly as she crossed the room to him. "Happy Birthday, to you."

She tried not to laugh and stay in character, but as Bobby began to giggle, she did to, finally scolding him to stop so she could continue. When she was done, she planted a noisy kiss on his cheek and he clapped appreciatively as she curtsied in front of him.

"Wow! Thank you," Bobby said.

"Oh, you're quite welcome," Amy returned in her best Marilyn voice. "My dear, sweet friend Amy said you recently had a birthday, and were a big fan, so naturally, I just had to come and serenade you."

She was gushing and cooing and playing the part of Marilyn to the hilt, loving the look on Bobby's face as she did.

"You're wearing my favorite dress," Bobby said, indicating the white dress Amy had chosen. The dress was a replica of the one Marilyn famously wore in the movie "The Seven Year Itch", and suddenly Bobby was wishing they were in Manhattan and she was standing over a street grate.

"I'm glad you like it," Amy said, falling back into her regular voice. "Well, since I'm all dressed up," she paused and spun in a circle, showing off to the fullest, "is there any particular fantasy you've had that I could help bring to life?"

The sudden look in his eye said she could be in trouble for that comment, but he let it go, instead telling her that he had watched lots of Marilyn Monroe movies with his mom while he was growing up, and he always wanted to be the lucky guy who got to dance with her and have her on his arm.

"Hmmm, I think I can accommodate that," Amy said smartly. She moved to stand right in front of Bobby and extended her hand to him. "Come with me."

He rose and offered her his arm, just like in the movies. She put her arm through his and led him out onto the large back patio. She asked him to help her plug in the small white lights that adorned the trees, railings and rafters then turned on the stereo system in the outdoor kitchen to an adult contemporary station. They danced and swayed under the twinkling white lights to the soft music, Amy playing the part of Marilyn to the hilt, and Bobby feeling like a teen-aged boy living out a fantasy.

Back home on Monday, Bobby sat down with Eames and Ross to go over what little they knew. Eames had made copies of all the letters and envelopes, knowing Bobby would need to scrutinize them. Amy was able to provide very little information as to what the mysterious letter writer could possibly mean by saying the foundation would pay. Captain Ross decided that Goren and Eames would have full access to all evidence and forensics results but would not be allowed to do any of the legwork, to avoid any appearance of conflict of interest.

On Tuesday, Eames brought Amy and Trey into the Major Case Squad room. Bobby had commandeered one of the conference rooms. There were bulletin boards on easels placed around the room. Each letter had been blown up to twice its original size, and was carefully pinned to a board with four large push pins, one pin in each corner of the letter. The letters and envelopes were arranged in the order they had been mailed. There was a map of Manhattan on a final board. Bobby had placed three large red push pins on this map, and then carefully drawn circles around each one at a precise distance from each pin.

Amy was amazed as she watched and listened to Bobby. He was wearing a suit, but had carelessly thrown the jacket over the back of a chair. The sleeves of his crisp, white dress shirt were unbuttoned and pushed up, exposing his muscular forearms. His red tie was loosened at the neck, but still held in place by a shiny, silver tie clip. She was mesmerized by his hands as he gestured at each letter and envelope while carefully explaining that each letter had been postmarked from one of three post offices in Manhattan. Going by the dates on the post marks, the writer had mailed several letters at a time. There was nothing to indicate whether the letters were taken directly to the post offices, placed in a drop box or picked up from a residence or even a business, just that the letters had passed through those post offices.

There were similarities between all of the letters, and Bobby had painstakingly listed those. Every letter had been typewritten on the same typewriter, on the same paper. Analysis of the paper showed that it was any one of several inexpensive multipurpose papers widely available in numerous stores. The typewriter was a run-of-the-mill electric typewriter popular in the 80's; there were no distinguishing characteristics in the type, indicating that the machine was in excellent condition. None of the fingerprints lifted from the letters and envelopes raised any red flags; Amy and Trey would need to be fingerprinted so they could be ruled out, as well as everyone in their offices.

The writer was escalating, Bobby told them, judging by the tone of the letters and their content. He was using stronger and stronger language, and more frequent cursing. His anger towards Amy was intensifying. The writer was planning something more than just writing letters; he wanted to physically hurt the foundation.

Amy was shaking and felt like she would pass out by the time Bobby was finished. She sank down into the nearest chair and held her head in her hands. When she finally lifted it, Bobby was squatting down in front of her holding a bottle of water. Her ashen face concerned him as he encouraged her to drink.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded and took another sip of water.

"Thank you," she smiled feebly at him. "This is all just so much, and seeing it all like this, I….uh…." She fluttered a hand in the air.

Bobby grabbed the nearest chair and pulled it around so he could sit facing her. He took her hand in his and encouraged her to drink some more water.

"Amy, why didn't you tell anyone sooner? We could have had people on this, had someone watching the house, the office, you," he was frustrated, but tried to keep his voice calm and his emotions in check.

"I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"You didn't think it was that big a deal," his voice became harsh as he suddenly rose up from the chair. "What do you mean? Look at this," his voice rumbled through the conference room as he gestured angrily at the letters posted around the room.

"You're a bitch," he read loudly from one letter. "Your refusal to give money to minorities has got to stop," he read from another. He continued on the around the room in long, broad strides, reading loudly and getting more and more angry.

"Amy! Don't you get it," he roared out of frustration as he wheeled back around to face her. He had raised his arms in frustration, but upon seeing the look on her face, the way she was pulled back and cowering in her chair with Trey standing next to her, ready to pounce on him, he stopped. He lowered his arms, and rubbed his forehead with one hand.

"I, uh, I'm sorry," he said softly after a few moments. "I just….."

He began to pace around the room, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

"Amy, this is serious." Alex spoke up from where she was leaning against the door, her voice soft but firm. "I don't know what this person plans to do, but it's going to be bad. The last letter says you and your foundation have to pay for your actions. When phrases like that get thrown around, it's never good. You and your family and employees could be in danger of physical harm. What that harm could be, we have no idea, but you need protection. Captain Ross wants to work out a schedule…"

She stopped suddenly as Amy stood up.

"No," she said firmly. "Just…no! I, we will be fine. I've had threatening letters before and nothing bad has ever happened. Maybe some protesters outside an event, or party crashers trying to pass out flyers and chase off patrons, but nothing serious. You're reading way too much into this." She turned sharply on her heels and walked out of the conference room.

Trey turned to follow her, but Bobby stopped him with a firm hand on the young man's shoulder and a pleading expression on his face.

"I'll try to talk to her," Trey told him sympathetically. "You go ahead and set up the protective detail. Just make sure you're the one who's closest to her, or she'll really pitch a fit."

Bobby sighed as he watched Trey leave the conference room and go after Amy. He watched as Trey caught up to her at the elevator and pulled her back into the squad room. They had a heated conversation involving many glances in Bobby's direction from Amy and rapid gestures from Trey. Finally, Amy nodded. Trey turned and met Bobby's gaze and gave him a grim look and a firm nod. Without so much as a look back in his direction, Amy led Trey out of the squad room and onto the next elevator.

Amy was not impressed with having a security detail. Even with Bobby as her main protector, she protested, fussing at every turn and opportunity. She really didn't see what all the fuss was about, and besides, if someone was after her, wouldn't the presence of all those police officers prevent them from doing anything they could be arrested for?

Amy had a valid point, Bobby had to admit, but orders were orders and the Mayor had gotten on board with protecting the Wainwrights and their foundation. "The foundation's work is too important to the city and the people of New York," were the Mayor's exact words to Amy shortly after he found out about the threats. "I would be remiss as a mayor, were I not to insist on police protection for someone of your importance."

The lack of physical evidence on the letters was a huge frustration to Bobby. There was no progress made in trying to back track the letters to their origins. Everything was generic, and it was obvious that the author had worn gloves and gone to great lengths to not leave any trace of himself on the letters or the envelopes.

Bobby's frustration had grown over the last week, causing him to lash out at anyone and everyone. He lashed out at Eames for not returning his calls quickly enough; he lashed out at Amy for not being careful enough about where she put her purse at the coffee shop one morning.

No one was immune from Bobby's increasing anger and frustration. His outburst at Captain Ross over the incompetence of the forensics department was understandable, but of great concern to the captain, who could see the stress his best detective was putting on himself.

What had finally brought it all to a head had nothing to do directly with Bobby or Amy. They still weren't even really sure why they were sitting with Eames in the Captain's office that morning. Things had been relatively quiet the last several days. Bobby had quit snapping at everyone, Amy had finally resigned herself to the necessity of the protective detail, and Eames was totally at a loss as to her place in all this except as Bobby's "handler" while he was protecting Amy.

The cause of this meeting was Detective Mike Logan and his partner, Megan Wheeler. The two detectives had crossed paths several months ago with Assistant District Attorney Terry Driver over the murder of the recently released sex offender Kyle Jones. Five years ago, Driver had bullied a young woman into believing Jones had raped her, sending him to prison. After Jones was found brutally murdered and decapitated, Logan and Wheeler uncovered Driver's coercion of the young witness. This incited Mike Logan's anger towards her.

There were several heated confrontations between Logan and Driver. Wheeler was present and heard Driver threaten Logan's job if he didn't back off. The persistence and smart investigative work of Logan and Wheeler paid off with the discovery that Ricky Moss had killed Kyle Jones, with the help of his friend, Lewis Olsen, in an attempt to impress a girl that Ricky liked. Logan had become even more angry at Driver when they watched the news from squad's media room as she took credit for the arrests.

Only yesterday, the three watched the news in that same media room, as Terry Driver took credit yet again for the hard work of Logan and Wheeler, this time in the exoneration of Randy Nichols. Nichols had been in prison for 16 years for a crime he said he didn't commit. Once again, Logan and Wheeler uncovered evidence that proved Terry Driver's biggest case, the one she "made her bones on", needed to be overturned. The course of the investigation proved that Driver had not investigated the case thoroughly enough and had led to even more heated confrontations between Logan and Driver, causing Ross to question Logan as to whether or not he had a personal vendetta against the woman.

That same day, Ross received an envelope marked, "Captain Ross, CONFIDENTIAL". In it were three damning photos. The first was of Colin and Megan exiting a limousine outside the recent Credit Belgique Cares "End World Hunger" Benefit. The second photo was taking inside the benefit and showed Colin talking to James Nelson, CEO of The Nelson Fund; Ross did not understand the significance of that photo, until he saw the third one. This photo showed Nelson shaking hands with Vito "The Snake" Gardino, a mob boss. Ross took the photos back to his office and mused over who was having Colin watched and why. The only conclusion he could draw was that Terry Driver was out to get Megan Wheeler at any cost. He later warned Wheeler, who merely told her Captain, "My eyes are open."

Upon further perusal of the photos, Ross's blood began to boil and his ulcer flared. There, on the steps behind Colin and Megan, waiting to go inside the Credit Belgique Benefit, were Amy Wainwright and Robert Goren. The two were standing close to each other, watching the arrivals. Bobby's hand was protectively around Amy's waist. Ross sighed. He had so been hoping Bobby's continued involvement with the Wainwright's would not be another blemish on his pock-marked record.

Several days later, Ross watched on the evening news as footage of Colin Ledger's arrest at the airport was shown on all the news channels, with his teary-eyed fiancée, Detective Megan Wheeler, in full view of the cameras. He sighed and scratched the back of his head as he realized the implications of the arrest. Megan's vehement insistence that she had no knowledge of any of Colin's alleged criminal behavior did little to quell his anger, as once again, the Chief of Detectives, the Mayor and the Captain of the NYPD were all breathing down his neck over the poor conduct of his detectives.

It took a statement from the FBI saying that Megan Wheeler was in no way the subject of their investigation to quash the matter, and allow her to keep her job.

However, Ross's growing frustration with Bobby and Amy climbed exponentially higher as the evening news footage also included the Credit Belgique Benefit photo of Colin and Megan with Bobby and Amy clearly distinguishable in the background. This had prompted a very loud, heated rampage from the Chief of D's over Detective Goren and his apparent lack of respect for his badge and the department.

A very weary Ross finally walked into his office and shut the door. His unruly curls were even more disheveled than usual, and he looked as though he hadn't slept in several days.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I called you here," he said somberly as he took his seat behind his desk.

"Several days ago, I received this envelope," he said, holding up the one marked "Captain Ross; Confidential."

"There were several photographs in it, one of which directly concerns you three."

He pulled out the one of Colin and Megan getting out of their limo and handed it across the desk to Bobby.

"Why, may I ask, were you two at the Credit Belgique Benefit in the first place?"

It was Amy who finally spoke up, after looking at the photograph. "I've provided wine service for several of their events in the past, and the Foundation has supported their End World Hunger Benefit for many years now. I was invited. Bobby, I mean, Detective Goren, came along as my escort."

She passed the photo Eames, who looked at it in consternation.

"Well, now that Colin Ledger has been arrested by the FBI for money laundering, racketeering and fraud, I've got the Brass breathing down my neck about you two dating," he grumbled, waving his hand at Bobby and Amy. "Is there any possibility at all that your Foundation could be accused of criminal involvement in all this?"

"I don't think so. We've researched Credit Belgique Cares very thoroughly. They seem to be honest and legitimate with their financial dealings. All the monies they collect go directly to very reputable world hunger organizations."

"All right," Ross nodded. "But you two…watch your backs. I don't need any of this, or your relationship to and with each other to come back to haunt me."

He sat forward suddenly and leaned on his desk.

"Are there any new developments in our mystery letter writer case?"

"No, Captain," Eames answered smartly. "Forensics has gone over every letter and envelope with a fine tooth comb. Whoever this person is, he or she is very careful not to leave even so much as a single dead skin cell behind. It's almost like a sterile machine wrote and sent those letters."

"Thank you, Eames. That'll be all. I need to talk to these two in private," Ross said.

Eames rose from her chair, casting a questioning look at Bobby, who returned her look with an innocent shrug. She smiled tersely at Amy, gave a sharp nod to the Captain, and left.

After the door had closed, Ross sharply focused his attention on Bobby and Amy.

"Now, just exactly what is going on between the two of you," he asked sharply.

"What do you mean, Captain," Bobby asked confusedly.

"I mean, you don't exactly look like you're on the job in this photo," Ross said angrily as he tossed the photo with Bobby and Amy in it at his detective. "Looks more to me like you two were on a date. You're supposed to be protecting her, not dating her!"

Amy shifted uncomfortably in her chair and glanced at Bobby. The man was looking down at his lap, his ears tinged red and his feet shuffling. Captain Ross took all this in and sighed.

"I don't really want to know, do I?"

The silence that followed his question was damning, as was the inability of either Bobby or Amy to look at him directly.

"Get out of here," he barked at them. "But I'm warning you; watch your back, Detective."

"Yes, sir," Bobby said smartly as he quickly escorted Amy out of the Captain's office.

Later that day, after dinner, Bobby sat in the cozy living area of the apartment above Trey's home. He had all but moved in there permanently since he had become the head of Amy's protective detail. It was much easier for him to have a base of operations here and a place to stay in the city, than to have to drive out to Brooklyn all the time. He still frequented his apartment from time to time when he wasn't watching Amy, stopping in to check the mail or pick up more clothes or other personal belongings.

Now, as he sat relaxing in his favorite recliner, his latest requisition from his apartment, he sipped a tumbler of Scotch and allowed his thoughts to wander.

The Captain was right; he would have to watch his back, especially now that he was in photos taken by the FBI. Not even a written statement from them, strongly denying that neither he nor Amy, or the Wainwright Foundation were under investigation in connection to Colin Ledger's alleged misdeeds would be completely reassuring. He would need to do some asking around of his own before he could be completely at ease to that end.

As he focused mentally on the picture that had Ross so upset, the one with him and Amy on the steps outside the benefit, he began to see it clearly in his mind. He remembered her dress, the way she had felt in his arms as they danced, the way she had responded to him on the way home. He sighed deeply and allowed his mind to wander back to that magical night.

It had been a fun evening. They had gone to the End World Hunger Benefit, sponsored by Credit Belgique Cares. Bobby had been surprised to learn that Amy knew his co-worker, Detective Megan Wheeler and her fiancé Colin Ledger. Megan and Colin had arrived just after Bobby and Amy, in a sea of flash bulbs, as they watched from the steps leading up to the entrance. Amy handled the introductions and Bobby was pleased to finally meet Megan's fiancé.

Since the winery was not involved in this affair, they were able to enjoy the evening as attendees and not workers. After the cocktail hour, they had shared a table with Megan and Colin, District Attorney Jack McCoy, who had brought his daughter as his escort, and two other couples. The meal was superb, and after a few brief speeches from the head table, the evening was turned over to the band.

Bobby and Amy spent most of the rest of the evening dancing. By the time dessert had been served, the conversation at their table was mostly political, and they had both become quite uncomfortable as neither one cared to get in on that discussion. Being on the dance floor was a welcome escape.

Bobby swung Amy out away from him, enjoying the swirl of her long, full skirt. She was wearing the most amazing red dress he had ever seen. The top was a pleated halter, the v of the neck plunging all the way down to the wide beaded band that encircled her waist. The back was, well, there was no back, simply the beaded band at her waist, from which the full skirt flowed. Bobby had been waiting for the dancing to begin so that he could get his hands on her.

When they had met in the foyer of Amy's apartment, she had been wearing an exquisite long-sleeved full-length brown wool coat. As they sat in the limo on the ride to dinner, he could see her red skirt peeping out from under the bottom of the coat, as well as her very sexy, strappy silver heels. His imagination had wandered far and wide as to what the rest of her dress looked like, hidden under her long coat, and he had struggled to keep his attention on her as she gave him a crash course on the who and the what of the evening.

It had taken every ounce of his will not to gasp when she took off her coat and turned it in to the coat-check attendant for the evening. When she had turned back around and smiled at him, Bobby's heart skipped a beat.

"You…you look incredible," he had managed to say.

"Thank you," she smiled back sincerely. "You look quite handsome yourself."

He was wearing the tuxedo he had been given several months ago, and she thought he was the most handsome man there. She kept this to herself though; she knew telling him publicly would only bring him great embarrassment.

And now, they were together on the dance floor, she was in his arms, and his hands were finally on her long, smooth expanse of back. Her skin was soft and warm under his touch, and he was enjoying the feel of her long body against his. Although it was annoying, he was gracious when Amy's male friends would dance by and ask to cut in. He didn't mind dancing with other women, but was always relieved whenever Amy returned to his arms.

He loved her smile, and she was smiling a lot as he spun her around the dance floor, twirling her away, pulling her close, dipping her every now and then. He was in heaven.

Amy was in heaven. She was reveling in the feel of his large, strong hands on her back, softly stroking her skin or simply holding her gently at the waist. She loved seeing his eyes sparkling as they danced. For the first time since Laura's murder, he looked truly happy. She was determined to keep him like this as much as possible.

The evening ended all too soon, and they found themselves back in the limo. Bobby had slid into the corner of the limo where the long bench seat curved around and stretched to the back of the driver's seat. There was a fully stocked mini-bar breaking up the bench, and another bench that could hold three more passengers on the other side, between the front passenger door and the back passenger door that they had used earlier that evening. He had never seen anything like this limo and was still amazed that he was actually getting paid to ride around in it.

As he studied Amy, he realized that he had never seen anything like her, either. She was leaning against the window, her long legs stretched out in front of her, her eyes closed. She opened one of her eyes and smiled at him.

"What are you staring at," she asked.

"A beautiful woman," his low voice answered softly. He enjoyed the soft blush that crept across her face.

Suddenly, she shrugged off her coat and bent forward to rub her foot.

"God, my feet are so sore," she groaned. "I haven't danced like that since Trey and Laura's wedding."

He reached down and lifted her feet, gently placing them in his lap. He quietly and softly removed each shoe then began to massage her feet. He could feel her tense at his touch, but as he continued, she sighed deeply and audibly. He watched her eyes close and her face relax as he massaged each foot in turn.

Then he moved his hands up slightly and began to massage her calves. She moaned as he gently massaged each calf then began to stroke the smooth skin of her legs.

After a few moments, she slowly sat forward, meeting his gaze directly with hers.

"Just what do you think you're doing, Mr. Goren," she asked huskily, moving her arm along the back of the seat, bringing it to rest at the nape of his neck.

He swallowed hard as she sank her fingers in his hair and began to play with the soft curls.

"Massaging your sore calves," he managed to answer.

She narrowed her eyes and looked slyly at him. "Hmmm, I don't think so."

She slid over closer to him, her thighs now draped across his, and wrapped her other arm around him. She was nearly nose to nose with him now, and he felt his heart rate quicken at her closeness.

"I think you are trying to get under my dress—"

She shushed his protestations with a finger to his lips and continued to tease him with her eyes as she spoke. "And I think you've been trying to get under it all night."

He raised his arms in mock surrender.

"Guilty as charged," he proclaimed, as she giggled softly.

"So, what are you going to do, arrest me," he asked wickedly.

"Now there's a thought," she said coyly. "But, you seem to be without your handcuffs."

"Mmmm…so, what else did you have in mind?" He lowered his arms and placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer.

She looked at him, her gaze solid and unwavering. She kept her eyes on his as she kissed him. He read everything in that kiss, and knew that soon, there would be no turning back for them.

Bobby slowly pulled away, ending the kiss and meeting her eyes again.

She said nothing, but grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him again, hard.

Bobby groaned as his body responded hard and fast to hers. He pressed his hand into her back as his other hand slid up to grab her hair and hold her tight. They kissed, hard and deep for several moments before Amy pushed herself firmly away from him.

When Bobby tried to pull her back, she said, "Wait."

Amy moved up to the front of the limo and pressed a button. Part of the window dividing the driver's seat from the back of the limo slid softly down, and she spoke quietly to the driver and then raised the window.

She moved back to sit next to Bobby, but he pulled her onto his lap instead, holding her there his hands firm but gentle on her hips.

"What did you say to him," he whispered.

"I asked him to drive around until we told him we were ready to go home," she whispered back as she lowered her head to kiss him again.

The kiss was long and deep and took them both to places they had never been before. Bobby's hands had slowly moved up Amy's back and she felt like her skin was on fire where he touched her. She shifted so that she could straddle him, and pushed herself up on his muscular upper arms to gaze down at him.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered as his hands moved to play in her hair at the nape of her neck. She gasped as she felt the buttons holding the halter top of her dress together begin to give way under his nimble fingers. His gaze never wavered from hers as the top fell away, baring her breasts. His hands slid slowly down until he could hook his thumbs under her arms and pull her close. He took first one breast, then the other between his lips, licking, nipping, suckling each breast gently in turn.

Amy rested her forearms on his shoulders. Her head fell back and she gasped and moaned at the pleasurable sensations he was sending through her body. She felt herself climbing higher and higher up the cliff of pleasure and felt she would surely topple over the edge if he didn't stop.

Bobby could tell she was extremely aroused and it only served to fuel his own desire for her. He felt her shudder with pleasure and slowly began to lower her back down onto his lap. Capturing her mouth with his, he wrapped his long right arm around her back to cradle her to him and continued to stroke her breast with his left hand.

When she lowered her arm and began to push his jacket aside, he stopped long enough to slip out of it, before pulling her close and kissing her again. He didn't stop her when she reached behind him, first undoing the cummerbund, then his vest. He shifted slightly, allowing her to remove the garments.

Her eyes met his brazenly as she began to undo the buttons of his shirt. She leaned forward and began to plant soft kisses on the broad expanse of his chest, moving down as the shirt opened. She pulled the shirt free of the waist band of his pants then silently undid the cuff links holding the sleeves closed. When he caressed her cheek with his hand, she leaned into it and moaned before taking each long finger slowly into her mouth and sucking each one in turn.

When she raised her eyes to look at him, he finally spoke.

"Amy, are you sure about this? I mean, well…uh…this isn't exactly the way I had imagined we would…you know…."

"What do you mean? I thought you wanted this."

"I do, but…here? In the back of a limo? When we make love, and we will make love, I want it to be special. In a huge bed somewhere, surrounded by pillows and fine linens and away from stop signs and traffic lights." He shushed her with a soft kiss and continued. "This is not what I want for us, okay?"

Amy nodded, but disappointment was clearly on her face.

Bobby hugged her to him then, feeling both their bodies react as naked skin came into contact with naked skin. He felt her nipples harden against his chest, and almost, but not quite, regretted his words. Slowly, he began to stroke her back, his fingers skimming across her skin, feeling her shudder beneath him. He continued to stroke and caress, she continued to shudder and respond. He lifted her, positioning her so that both her legs were once again across his lap. He captured her mouth with his, and slid his hand slowly up under her skirt. He almost stopped when he discovered the sturdy elastic undergarment sheathing her thighs and lower torso.

"What's this," he asked her huskily as his fingers played with the edge of the elastic along her inner thigh. He was sending such incredible sensations through her body, she could hardly answer.

"Spanx ™," she mumbled against his lips. "Bobby," she pleaded as she squirmed on his lap.

"Don't stop. Please?" She was practically begging.

"Amy, I…" he was at a loss until she reached down and guided his hand. And there, in the back of a limo, slowly circling through Central Park, Bobby Goren discovered the secret to Spanx™, and Amy was reminded of what she had thrown away all those years ago.