Chapter 14

Jon swallowed hard against the lump of nerves in his throat. Hell, he’d been ready for a boot to the balls after that comment. What he hadn’t been expecting was the flare of heat in her eyes and the bold order.

“I hope you know I wouldn’t have said that normally. Even I’m not that cocky.”

A slim copper eyebrow rose. “You’re not?”

“Ha ha.” He liked her direct eyes—the lack of artifice and games was refreshing. “And no, I’m not. If you could see under the table I’ve got my hands over my balls hoping you aren’t going to kick them through my teeth.”

“So, I shouldn’t have ordered the food to go?”

“Hell no,” he said quickly, and then cleared his throat. “I was teasing, but I do.”

“You do?”

“I do want you,” he said simply.

“Good, that’s handy because I want you too.” She leaned back in the cozy booth, stretching her legs out, until her knee slide between his, her calf rubbed along his. She folded her hands on the tabletop and smiled.

His blue eyes blazed and the lust swiped the smile right off her lips. “Should I behave?” she whispered. The devil was back on her shoulders making her splay her fingers along his forearm.

“Only if you want me to behave myself in the car,” he said with a husky voice. His body tightened and every muscle reacted to her touch. Christ, what was he a sixteen year old?

Her fingernails scored through the hair on his forearms, sneaking under the cuff of his shirt that had been folded back. “There’s something about you that makes me want to touch.” She eased her touch until it was feather light along the underside of his arm. “It could be the naturally athletic body that is too delicious to ignore,” she said conversationally.

He watched her small hands with their soft, elegant fingers as they played along his skin. Her coloring, so light compared to his, which was tanned from his time in Nashville. She turned and brushed her knuckles along his wrist.

“Or it could be that I can’t help myself,” she smiled wickedly. “I’m a weak woman. You bring out the baser instincts in me.”

He turned his hand, palm up to return the touch. Her skin was like silk and the scent of pears drifted toward him again. The touch was innocent. More than innocent enough for public, but each pass of her small, neat nails along his forearm had his cock tightening. She licked her lips and he had to force himself not lean across the table and kiss her again.

She met his blue eyes, the color back to that deep dark midnight blue as his jaw clicked. With a heady sense of power she gently raked her nails through the soft hair of his arm and around to the underside again. His muscles flexed and the tendons moved under her fingertips. Could such a simple touch really make him want her? It surely had to be want in those eyes.

His other hand came over and stilled her touch; lacing his fingers with hers he let his thumb trace along the line of her hand up to her forefinger and back. Her mouth opened a little and her tongue flicked along her lower lip. He started to lean across the table, damn the public.

“Here you go,” came the chipper voice of the waitress. “I stapled the receipt to the bag so all you need to do is check out at the bar. “Or would you rather I put it on your tab, Mr.-“

“The tab would be fine,” he glanced at her tag and smiled. “Tracey.”

“Sure! No problem. Hope to see you again soon.”

Jon grabbed the bag keeping their fingers clasped as he moved through the restaurant.

“Jon,” Tessa said with a laugh. They got to the door before she said it again. “Jon!”

His brain was focused on getting them out of there, to get them to his house, to get her under him. It’s all he could think about. All he could manage to wrap his mind around. “Hmm?” he said absently.

“Our coats?”

“Shit!” He dropped her hand and passed her the bag. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.”

She stifled a laugh as she watched him move his way back through the clutter of tables and snag their coats from the hook. She had to admit the watching wasn’t a problem. His jeans hugged him where the tails of the shirt ended. The slight bulge of wallet only emphasized the curve of his butt. He turned and her eyes widened at the distinct bulge in his jeans before he tugged his shirt down self-consciously.

He quickly tugged on his jacket not bothering with the buttons. With the easy familiarity of helping a woman dress, he circled her and held up her coat. His hand was firmly in hers before they were out the door. He practically dragged her to the car, opening the door and dropping the food on the seat.

He turned and caged his arms around her at the open door, his body tense and his jaw uncompromising. She touched his face. “Easy, Tiger, I’m not going anywhere.”

His fingers buried themselves into her jacket and yanked her into him. “Oh yeah you are. You’re going home with me,” he said on a swift open mouth kiss. The taste of her exploded in his mouth. Had it really only been ten or fifteen minutes since he’d last tasted her?

She tucked her hands against his chest and sunk into his heat, letting his mouth ravage hers for a moment before she gave him back the passion in kind. She broke away when she felt his cock against her belly, full and hard for her. She wanted to cup it in her hands, to feel that silky steel in her hands, but not through jeans and not in the cold. “Take me to your house,” she said on a whisper.