“Good.” He unlocked the car and opened the passenger-side door for her, his fingertips brushing the small of her back as she ducked inside.
“Where would you like to go now?” He asked once he’d joined her, sliding the key into the ignition as he settled into the driver’s seat.
Where to now? She’d assumed that he’d take her home after dinner. Unless he thought…
“I’d planned to take you to a movie, if that’s something you’d like.”
A movie. Mina’s heart slowed just a little as his words washed over her. She glanced at the digital clock on the dashboard, noting that it was already nine o’clock.
“If you’d rather not, that’s all right,” he said. “I know you have work in the morning.”
She nodded slowly, trying to imagine what it would be like to sit close beside him in the dark for an hour or two. Would she be able to pay any attention to the movie at all? Would she actually be able to keep her hands off of him for that long, or would the slightest touch in the dark of the theater turn into something like what they’d just done in the elevator? She didn’t normally think of herself as someone who’d steal deep-reaching kisses in elevators or movie theaters like a sex-starved teenager, but the temptation to do just that was undeniable. She just couldn’t deny her attraction to him, which was stronger – surprisingly, alarmingly stronger – than anything she’d ever felt toward anyone else.
“Would you rather I took you home?”
He was polite, but the low note of angst in his voice didn’t escape her notice. She turned her attention away from the digital clock, looking to him instead. It was semi-dark inside the car, but what light had managed to make it in was reflected in his eyes, rendering them almost luminous. “No.” It might not have been exactly what she’d intended to say, but it was the truth.
Before she knew it his lips were brushing hers, soft and hot, still tasting of spices. Had she leaned forward or had he? Every inch of her skin tingled as he buried a hand in her hair and pulled her close, his teeth denting her lip as his tongue glided over hers, deep into her mouth. By the time his fingertips made contact with the soft skin above the low waistband of her jeans, she felt as if she’d been waiting for a million years for him to touch her there. He kept his hand in her hair as he traced the curve of her hipbone with the other, eliciting a second, even-stronger wave of longing. She couldn’t help trembling when his fingertips brushed her belly.
She was sure he knew exactly what he was doing. His touch was just light enough to make her crave more. She remembered the way he’d grasped her hand as they’d left the elevator and the way he’d held her in the studio. Why couldn’t his touch be that solid, that possessive, now? He was teasing her, holding back and rousing her impatience. He had a light, precise touch when he chose to use it – he had to, for his line of work.
She pushed her tongue deeper into his mouth, letting her rapidly increasing desire take over, demanding more. Her teeth dented his soft lower lip and he finally flattened his hand against her belly in response, touching her in earnest. His palm was hot and his fingertips were just touching the lower curve of her breast. It ached – she ached – for more. Arching her back, she pressed herself against him, filling his palm. It was perfectly sized to accommodate her curves. He cradled the swell of her breast, sending a wave of bone-deep satisfaction through her.
It was short lived. After the initial sense of gratification faded, the ache in her breast returned with a vengeance, wanting more of his touch. She kissed him harder, inviting him to abandon gentleness. He tightened his hold, exerting a gentle pressure that caused her core to tighten and the skin between her thighs to tingle. He found her nipple with his fingertips and explored its hardness. She could just imagine his lips moving over her chest, soft and hot, eventually finding the stiff peak of her breast. He massaged it, fueling her sudden fantasy. Her moan was lost in the low hum of a working motor and rolling tires, and just like that, she remembered that they were in a parking garage, making out like a couple of teenagers as another car rolled past.
Eric slowly withdrew his hand from beneath her top, giving her breast one last regretful caress. He waited a few moments longer to break the kiss, and she didn’t complain. A part of her didn’t want to ever stop kissing him. Another part of her was suddenly hyper-aware that they were in the front seats of his car in a public parking garage, divided only by the console that was digging into her hip. She finally opened her eyes and met his, facing reality.