End of Previous Chapter:

She leaned towards him slowly, her eyes never leaving his. His hand was still on hers, his finger still stroking hers. He hadn't moved, hadn't reacted in any way and she took this as confirmation that what she was doing was right; or at least what he wanted. She closed the gap between their mouths, barely brushing her lips to his when he suddenly jerked his head away and pulled his hand back from hers.

She gasped at his sudden reaction. Her lips still tingled where they'd made the briefest contact with his and she brought her hand to rest gently on her mouth. She'd gotten only the slightest taste of his lips, a mixture of chocolate and wine and something else that she presumed was just his taste. But it made her want more, more of his lips, more of his touch, more of him. She tried to look in his eyes, but he was looking away. "Mac?" she whispered.

He slid back from her on the booth. "I . . .I uh . . . need to use the bathroom." He stammered, and nearly leapt out of the booth towards the men's room.

A Nice Dinner 3 – Second Course: Appetizer (Course to sustain the palate while waiting for the main course)

Mac pushed open the door to the bathroom with such force it hit the wall and knocked a piece of plaster onto the floor. He strode over to the sink, leaning heavily on it. His thoughts were racing, his muscles trembling, his heart felt like it was about to explode. Why the hell had he reacted like that? He pushed off the sink and spun around, wanting to hit something but knowing that wouldn't solve what happened. He ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to think. He turned to the urinal to relieve himself, playing over the last few minutes in his head again and again. He needed to go back out there and talk to her, obviously. He just didn't know what to say. He turned back to the sink and rinsed his hands and face with ice cold water, glaring at himself in the mirror as he did so.

While Mac escaped to the bathroom, Jo had convinced herself how wrong she'd been tonight. Her fantasy was just that - a fantasy - and she should have kept it as such. Damn that last glass of wine, she thought. But she knew it was more than that – she'd wanted this so much she'd convinced herself that he did too. The wine had just given her the courage to open up, too much. Now she'd not only wrecked any chance of something between them, but probably their friendship, and his trust, as well.

She flagged down the waiter and shoved her credit card at him. Glancing at the nearly untouched dessert and cups of tea, he sensed something was not right and quickly ran her card, returning with the bill for her to sign. She scrawled her signature, jammed her credit card randomly into her purse and stood up, grabbing her coat and Mac's and walking to the door to wait for him to return so they could leave.

Mac emerged a minute later from the restroom hallway, stopping short when he saw their table empty, the busboy clearing the dishes. For a moment, he feared she'd walked out, but then he noticed her standing by the doorway, his coat draped over her arm. He nodded in her direction and began walking towards her, unable to read the stoic expression on her face. She looked like she did when she was about to question a suspect. She handed him his coat, saying nothing, looking right through his gaze. Now Mac knew exactly how the perps felt when she breezed into interrogation.

They walked outside the restaurant, the door closing softly behind them, lost in their own thoughts. Mac knew he needed to say something, but for the moment, he still hadn't figured out what. And before he could take the time to think more about it, Jo stopped, turning towards him, finally meeting his gaze.

"Look Mac, I'm sorry about what happened in there. I . . ." she paused, clearly struggling with how to phrase this. She waved her hands randomly in the air and sighed. "I'm usually pretty good at reading people, you know. But I guess I wanted so desperately for there to be something between us that I started reading into what was really going on. Obviously I was wrong." She laughed, although halfheartedly. "Everyone makes mistakes, huh?" She trailed off.

Mac furrowed his brow, his eyes downcast. He had hurt her. Damn. That was the last thing he'd wanted to do. He just hadn't seen that coming, and she'd caught him off guard, although in retrospect, it shouldn't have been such a surprise. She'd been pretty forward with him all night; he just wasn't expecting it to move quite that fast. Now, he regretted his rather sudden rebuke of her advances. He'd certainly thought about her "That Way" a few times since she'd begun working with him. In fact, as of late, he'd thought about her like that a bit more than a few times. He couldn't recall ever having met someone that possessed her same mixture of quirkiness, compassion and brazen sexuality. He had to admit he liked it. He liked her. He just wasn't sure yet where he wanted to go with those feelings.

He glanced at her. She was looking down, clearly embarrassed about what had happened.

He reached out and placed his hand under her chin, tilting it upwards so she was forced to look at him. He smiled shyly. "You know, you didn't make a mistake. There is something here, between us. I think I just wasn't quite ready to acknowledge it and I panicked. I'm the one that should be apologizing, not you. It was pretty clear where you were going tonight. But when it happened, I . . . . Well, I guess I just got cold feet. I've never been very good at this, and I'm beginning to think that as I get older, I'm actually getting worse."

She shook her head. "God Mac I'm such an idiot. I was moving way too fast. I mean you just came back to work a few weeks ago. You just broke up with your girlfriend. What the hell was I thinking." She ran her hands through her hair a few times, her bracelets jangling.

"Maybe you weren't. But sometimes that's ok. To be a little bit impulsive. As long as no one gets hurt."

She glanced at him, curious. "But Mac, I clearly hurt you."

He smiled lightly. "No, you didn't hurt me. Just startled me a bit."

They started walking again, turning the corner and approaching the front of his building.

"The kiss felt nice." He murmured softly.

She stopped, smiling up at him. "Want another one?"

A quick laugh escaped from his mouth. "Why don't we go up to my place for a while."

"For another kiss?"

"Jo."

"Well, I did buy you dinner."

"Jo." He rolled his eyes. " Let's just go upstairs."

She smiled sweetly. "I'd like that."

Mac entered the code on the panel and pulled open the door to his building, holding it for her. She breezed by him, glancing up at his face for only an instant, her face unreadable again, then turned her attention to the lobby as she walked towards the elevators.

Mac hesitated slightly in the doorway, marveling at how they had ended up here. He wasn't sure why he'd invited her up. He knew he couldn't just leave things as they were. But now that they were actually going up to his apartment, he wasn't exactly sure where they were headed. For just a talk? Maybe a nightcap? Or even something more? And did he really want things to progress in that direction? He had to admit to himself, he wasn't exactly against the idea. In fact, he was pretty sure his response to each of those possibilities was a resounding yes. He just wasn't sure it was the right response or that now was the right time.

He glanced up to see Jo holding open one of the elevators for him. She had that impatient look about her so he decided any further dissection of the impending evening would have to happen, well, as it happened. He nodded and moved quickly towards her, mumbling a thanks as he entered and pressing the button to the fourth floor. She stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, eyeing him with an amused glint in her eyes.

He smiled crookedly at her. "I know what you're doing. You're thinking about re-enacting the scene from the garage elevator earlier, the couple kissing?" he quipped.

She smiled, albeit a sultry one. "Hmmm, maybe. But if we did, and someone else entered the elevator right now, I'm not sure I'd be able pull away."

She began to move towards him, her eyes on his the entire time. He had the impression of a cheetah stalking its prey. She stopped directly in front of him, reached out her hand, stroked his hair, his cheek, his neck, and then his chest, through the cotton of his shirt.

Mac wanted oh so badly to respond; his body, or at least certain parts of his body, wanted him to respond. But he hesitated. No, he froze. On the spot. He couldn't move if he'd had to. Jo finally realized she was going at this solo and took a step back to look at him, her eyebrows raised, one hand falling to her side, the other paused mid caress on his chest.

"Mac, are you ok?"

He cleared his throat. "Uhhh." Ok, that was no response to her question. He took a breath and tried again. "Jo, I . . ." He swallowed. This was not going well. One more time. "Look, I really . . ."

The elevator pinged, signaling their imminent arrival at Mac's floor. He let out a small laugh, more out of nervousness than the humour in the situation. The doors opened and Jo withdrew her hand from Mac's shirt. She took his hand gently and led him out of the elevator and up to his doorway. "Why don't we go in . . ." Mac got his keys from his pocket. ". . . have a seat . . ." Mac opened the door and motioned with a nod of his head for her to enter. "We can have a drink. . ." she paused and smiled ever so slightly, "doesn't need to be alcohol. I'm really not trying to get you drunk." The corners of his mouth tugged upwards.

Happy to see some sort of positive reaction from him, she entered and turned to watch him as he moved to close his door. She continued. "We can talk about what exactly we're doing here, if you'd like. I know you're not the impulsive type and I've been the definition of the word tonight. So maybe we can find some happy middle ground."

Jo was now standing a few feet inside the entryway, watching as Mac methodically closed the door, locked it and engaged the deadbolt. He paused, an inner turmoil brewing inside him. Damn, of course he wanted this, her, them. He'd wanted it for a long time now. He'd already admitted that to himself. He just had to accept that it was the right course of action, even if maybe it wasn't the most prudent. He had just told her that sometimes it was ok not to think too much; to just follow your feelings. To just ACT.

She spoke, startling him. "So, what exactly are we doing Mac?" Her tone soft but serious. He turned around slowly towards her, his mind made up.

Jo was about to offer to make some tea when his gaze shot up to hold her own. Her eyes widened and she couldn't help but gasp slightly – his eyes were dark, smoky, the lids heavy, the blackness of his pupils threatening to drown out their usual luminescent blue. Just the darkness of the hall, she tried to tell herself, that's all. But there was something else behind that look. Jo recognized it, although she hadn't seen it directed towards herself for quite a while. Pure desire. Lust. Need. A combination of all three. Did it really matter which?

His hand, which had remained clasping the deadbolt even after engaging it, fell to his side with a slap. He opened his mouth. "We're doing something we probably should have done a long time ago, Jo." His voice was rough, almost gravelly, and her body trembled at the sound, the sudden change in his attitude. Her breath caught in her throat as he launched himself towards her, covering the few feet separating them in a breath.

Mac reached out, grasped either side of Jo's face gently but firmly in his hands and leaned towards her, his lips brushing hers, then retreating slightly, testing out her reaction, before going any further. His forearms leaned against her shoulders, exerting just enough pressure to back her against the wall without causing her to lose her balance.

His right hand slowly curved around her head until it tangled in the back of her hair, caressing the nape of her neck there, lovingly, languidly. She had pressed her lips pressed back against his, albeit somewhat chastely, their tongues having made no effort to leave the warmth of their mouths. A moment later, she parted her own lips, whether because she needed to breathe better or because she wanted to taste more of him, she wasn't even sure. But the moment her lips separated, his tongue lashed out insistently, thrusting through them and exploring every part of her mouth, her tongue, her teeth, back to her lips.

She groaned slightly as his left hand trailed gradually down from her cheek to her neck, and began gently stroking the skin under her necklaces, grazing but not quite fully touching the top of her cleavage. Just like before in her office. She shuddered at that memory, feeling a bud of warmth take root and blossom in her core. Suddenly, he drew his lips from hers a moment, their foreheads touching, his eyes looking directly into hers. She nearly moaned at the absence of his mouth on hers. "Oh God, don't stop," she rasped.

He stroked the skin under her necklaces one more time. "Just checking for spiders . . ." he said, his tone dead serious, but a slight glint appearing in his eyes.

"Mac," she half sighed, half laughed in response. She took a shaky breath. "If there's a spider anywhere on me, it'd best get the hell out of the way or it's about to get squashed." And her arms, which had been hanging, stunned, at her sides, suddenly sprung back to life, gripping Mac's shoulders and pushing him back against the door behind him.

"What, you don't like to relinquish control?" His voice was low, measured, but his lips were quivering in a near smile.

"No, I don't mind not being in control, but now . . . it's my turn," she replied in a sultry drawl. She pressed her whole body against his, feeling the full length of his arousal pressing back against her. She smiled to herself. "Excited?" She whispered, sucking slowly on his earlobe.

"You have no idea," he replied, his voice low, raw.

"Oh, I think I do." She held his gaze, daring him to look away. He breathed in sharply as she pressed her hip against his erection. Her hand reached out to caress his cheek. She could feel the roughness from the early growth of his beard and she stroked it once, twice, before curling her hand around to the back of his head, urging him ever closer to her. She began kissing him, softly, her tongue pushing gently past his teeth. Taking her time with the kiss. Exploring. Her other hand alternated between slowly stroking his chest and stopping every few seconds to undo one of his shirt buttons. Taking her sweet time with every movement.

Mac, on the other hand, was fighting for control. Two minutes in and his body was already screaming for release. The moment she'd first pressed her curves against his hardness, he'd been fighting a losing battle against his body's more primal needs. He was trying, so hard, to follow her lead. To move slowly, take it gently. Because his brain was telling him that was what he should do, what he was supposed to do here. Shit, he'd run away before because she moved too fast for him. But now, his body was telling him to flip her back around and take her, fully clothed, standing against the wall if he had to, right here, right now. Because deep down, that was what he needed. It had just been way too long.

Suddenly, she shifted slightly, her hip bone grinding forcefully against him. His hips bucked involuntarily, his body craving the increased stimulation against his groin. Jo felt it and broke their kiss, moving back slightly; she looked up at him, eyes heavy with desire. A desire she could see reflected back in his eyes ten fold. "What do you say we move out of the entryway?" She whispered.

Mac breathed a silent sigh of relief and let his hands drop slowly from her back. Just a little break, a little separation, to let him regain some level of control. "Come here," he croaked, his voice heavy and out of breath. He reached for her hand and pulled her through his office area, past the mezzanine and into the hallway towards his bedroom. She nearly had to jog to keep up with him.

As they entered the bedroom, Mac slowed slightly, his hand still intertwined with hers. She was a bit overwhelmed by his sudden change in attitude, but she was anything but disappointed by it. She glanced quickly around his room, trying to get her bearings - she'd never been this far back in his apartment before. The bedroom was large, tastefully decorated in muted, earthy tones, with two big windows, what she assumed was a closet, and an attached bathroom. The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she should avail herself of it before they got any further along, when suddenly Mac spun her around so that her back was to the bed. He looked deeply into her eyes, that same, barely contained look of desire radiating from them. "Is this really what you want?" He asked her, his voice husky, dripping with need.

She let out a slow, ragged breath. "Oh God, yes Mac. For so long. . . ."

He interrupted before she could finish. "Good, because once I fully commit to something, I don't like to turn back." And he assaulted her with a punishing kiss.

His hands scooped under the shoulders of her coat and down her arms, dragging the jacket off, letting it drop to the foot of the bed. Still maintaining the brutal contact between their lips, his hands fell to her waistband, deftly undoing her belt, loosening the button on her jeans and tugging her t-shirt out and up over her torso. As he lifted it above her chest, he slowed, allowing his hands a moment to cup both her ample breasts through the lace of her bra. He could feel her nipples, already hard, underneath. His thumbs peeled back the fabric of her bra on both sides and he lowered his mouth a moment to suckle one, then the other nub. My God, she thought, this is so much better than any fantasy.

Jo, her head thrown back, a look of pure passion on her face, her arms clutching at his back, suddenly felt herself losing her balance. Mac, his full concentration on her breasts, realized too late that their center of balance was joined and heading on a collision course with the bed. He managed to support her somewhat with his hand while spinning his body sideways slightly so that he didn't fall completely on top of her. They both hit the bed simultaneously, Mac with a stifled groan and Jo with a gasp. Mac, concerned that perhaps she'd hurt herself, immediately extricated his hand from behind her and propped himself up on one elbow, worry etched on his face.

"Far fou fo-kay?" He spat out, trying to speak but realizing that a lock of her hair was stuck to his tongue. Jo began laughing uncontrollably and reached out a shaking hand to pull it out of his mouth.

He grinned. "I take it you're ok?" She sat up on the bed, legs draped over the side, trying to regain control. She let out one more laugh before suddenly turning serious. "What about you – that must have hurt?" The concern in her features led him to understand that she was referring to his injuries from the shooting.

He shook his head. "I'm fine don't worry – it's gonna take more than a fall onto the bed to aggravate anything that happened so many months ago." She didn't look convinced, but she wasn't able to continue as he started chuckling.

She followed his gaze, which was directed to her, and realized she looked pretty absurd at the moment. Her jeans partly undone, her t-shirt rolled up under her armpits, one side of her bra still pushed down revealing most of her breast and one amazingly pert, rosy nipple. She reached out and slapped his arm playfully. "This is all your work, mister. You gonna continue or leave me hanging?"

He smiled seductively, reaching out with both hands and gently lifting her t-shirt over her arms and head.

She reciprocated, unbuttoning the remaining button on his shirt and sliding it off, followed by his undershirt. She reached out her fingers and ever so softly traced the large scar from his surgery, from his lower chest to below his naval.

She knew there would be one in back as well, where the bullet entered, but she couldn't bring herself to think about that at the moment.

She leaned in to him and before her lips touched his, she whispered, "I'm so glad you're here right now."

He wasn't sure if she meant that literally, in that he was in the room with her, or in the more figurative sense that he'd survived the shooting. But as her hands trailed down from his scar to the waistband of his pants, he realized he didn't really care anymore which she'd meant.

They deepened their kiss and Mac's hand reached behind her head, toying with the silkiness of her hair, pushing her even closer to him. Jo's hands, still at his waistband, began to unclasp Mac's belt and unbutton his trousers. As she fumbled slightly with the zipper, her hand brushed against his groin, causing a sharp intake of his breath and his eyes to roll backwards. She was having trouble with the zipper in his seated position and the constant movement of her hands there was driving him insane. He finally broke the kiss and stood up, quickly divesting himself of his pants and shoes seemingly in one swift movement.

He stood before her, clad only in his boxers, the bulge of his erection directly in front of her. He looked down at her, her lips swollen a deep red from their kiss, her eyes a deep obsidian, her raven hair messy from when his hands were tangled in it just a few moments ago. He could feel the desire coursing through his body, feel himself growing even harder as he thought of what they were about to do. He reached out and pushed her shoulders back slightly. "Lie down," he whispered, and he leaned over her to finish undoing her jeans. She propped herself up on her elbows and lifted her hips, allowing him to slowly roll the jeans down her legs and finally slide off her shoes.

He moved to climb onto the bed but before he could, she sat up suddenly and sank her hands into the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down over his hips, his member springing to attention as the elastic slipped over and off it. As the material fell to the floor he stepped out of them and tried to meet her gaze, but she was looking at his body, directly in front of her. She licked her lips slightly and he had an idea of what she was about to do. As enticing as that image was to him right now, he feared it would result in a very short first encounter.

She reached out and touched him, tentatively at first, then gripping him more solidly, but before she could lean forward and bring him to her mouth, he placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her again back onto the bed. "Another time," he whispered into her ear, as he lay down beside her and snaked his hands around to her back, finally removing her bra and tossing it aside.

Mac pushed himself up with his arms, hovering over her a moment, taking in her beauty. He knelt back, freeing his arms to slowly caress her from her neck, over her breasts, down to her belly button and his thumbs latched round the lace of her underwear. In one smooth movement, as if choreographed by a master, she lifted her hips just as he dragged her underwear down and off her feet, letting it drop off the bed and join the rest of their clothing on the floor. He turned back to her. God she was beautiful. And oh did he want her. Without even realizing, he reached down, stroking his length once, then twice, before he moved nearer to her.

Jo watched, mesmerized. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything so naturally sexy as what she'd just witnessed. She spread her legs ever so slightly, signaling to him not at all subtly that she was ready. He nestled himself between her legs, gazing deeply into her eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. He gripped the base of his arousal and, moving down slightly, placed it just at her entrance. She blew a breath of air out and her eyes closed in anticipation. "Now Mac, please. I need to feel you," she murmured, almost inaudibly. One of her hands grabbed his shoulder, the other his bottom, trying to pull him inside her.

Mac removed his hand, placing it on the bed next to her. His heart was on the verge of exploding in his chest, he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. Her nails were beginning to graze the skin on his back and just as he tensed, preparing to enter her, her eyes shot open suddenly. "Wait, Mac, oh my God. I almost forgot." She was breathing heavily. "We need a condom."

He heard her talking but couldn't quite focus on the meaning of the words. Every muscle in his body was taut, ready to plunge inside of her. "Wait Mac, stop." She repeated, a bit louder this time. Her hands dropped from his backside and came around to push slightly against his chest instead.

The word 'stop' had filtered through the fog surrounding his brain and he opened his eyes. "What?" He barely managed to form the word, his chest heaving against her touch.

"Condom." She repeated, sliding her body up the bed slightly, breaking the contact between their most intimate parts.

Oh shit. He thought.

A/N: Thank you again for all your wonderful reviews. They make my day! Will update as soon as I can – the story seems to be taking over my life and my "To-Do" list is beginning to rival the story's word count, so it may be a couple days but I'll do my best.