Archie stood with his hands in his pockets, watching as she adjusted the position of the chair slightly and then twirled to face him. He could feel the beat of the funk through the floor.

Rachel unbuttoned the top button of her coat and pulled at the collar, exposing more of her breasts, and then she started to parade toward him, hips swaying in time to the music. She glowed. She was Technicolor.

Archie felt a pressure in his groin.

The high heels enhanced the sway of her hips. She led with her pelvis as she walked to him, as if it were pulling her to him. The bottom of the coat flapped open, exposing a garter over bare thigh. He could physically feel her getting closer, the pressure building with each step. He imagined her arms around his neck, her fingers unbuttoning his shirt, her mouth on his.

But when she was just an arm’s length away, she stopped. Archie’s body clenched with thwarted desire. He wanted to touch her. He needed to touch her. His skin felt prickly with heat. He took his hands out of his pockets and stepped toward her.

A coy smile played across Rachel’s lips. She reached for his wrist and led him to the chair she had positioned in the center of the room.

God, she was beautiful. But it wasn’t just her features and curves. She was lit up from within; she glowed with youth and health. It was still unbelievable to Archie that she wanted him.

Rachel sat Archie down and then opened his legs and stepped between his knees. “Don’t move,” she said. And she leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Her hands traveled through his hair as her tongue moved around his mouth. Her fingers traced his earlobes, his jaw, the back of his neck, then she curled her fingers and drew her fingernails over his scalp. It felt good. She increased the pressure, digging her nails into his skin, and it felt even better, waves of pain heightening the pleasure. Archie’s head swam. He was trembling. He lifted his hands to her hips.

She withdrew as soon as he’d touched her. She pulled away and stepped back, leaving him helpless with longing, his mouth open dumbly.

Rachel laughed. Her cheeks were rosy, a sheen of sweat sparkled on her collarbone. Archie wondered when she was going to take off that coat. Rachel wagged a finger at him and then reached into one of her pockets. Her grin widened as she pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Don’t worry,” she said, dangling the cuffs in front of him. “I brought backup in case you couldn’t control yourself.”

The cuffs were police-issue nickel handcuffs with a double lock. Smith & Wesson. Archie recognized them right away. “Those are my handcuffs,” he said.