"Oh, wow, downtown. You must have a great view too."
"It's all right."
She turned back to him, hoping she wasn't being too forward when she asked, "Will you take me there?"
It didn't seem to faze him a bit. "Of course. I'll take you anywhere you want."
Expectation, as warm and euphoric as the champagne, slid fluidly through her blood, lighting up the places on her body where she still felt his possession. Between her legs, the tips of her breasts. Hell, everywhere-he'd owned every single inch of her that he'd touched. Knowing she could have another night of that ecstasy seemed to soothe every worry she carried in her heart. One more night. Yes.
It also made the champagne taste even better, the view sparkle even more. Her paella was wonderful: lobster, mussels, and shrimp adding up to a decadent experience that had her thinking maybe there was something to the aphrodisiacal effects of seafood. She had always loved good seafood, but it had never necessarily made her want to fuck so much as she did right now.
Of course, that might have mostly to do with the gorgeous man sitting across from her. He drank little but seemed to enjoy watching her partake in glass after glass.
"So. A massage therapist, huh? How did that come about?" he asked finally, and she almost melted at the way his eyes followed her fork all the way to her mouth. She gave him a little show, enveloping it slowly with her lips, taking her time pulling it out and swallowing before answering him.
"It just did. I mean, hell, I love getting massages. I love how much better I feel afterward. I considered medicine for a while, and my parents loved that, but I decided that wasn't for me. Helping people in some holistic way always appealed to me, though, so I went into massage therapy." She shrugged. "I still got to learn anatomy and the muscular system and was still able to help people. Win-win, and without seven years of school."
"And how did your parents feel about that?"
"Badly, at first," she said as if this should be a given, and he chuckled. "But then my mom hurt her back and I got her on my table. She was like, ‘What is that you're using?' and I said, ‘Those are my hands, Mom.' She's been on board with it ever since. Practically advertises me to all her and Dad's friends and business associates. I've been there four years now and have a really good clientele built up."
Mike had laughed at the story about her mother. "That's great. Good for you."
"It has its moments. Do you have any idea what dating is like when guys find out you're a massage therapist?" It occurred to her that she was verging on drunken rambling, but that sober part of her brain held no sway here.
"I can't say I do, and I can't say I even want to imagine."
"You don't."
"Allow me to apologize on behalf of my gender, then."
"You don't have to," she said, shaking her head. "Most of them don't deserve it. Honestly. And thank you for not calling me a masseuse. You are a good man." She lifted her glass to him and then drained it while he grinned. And maybe it was the champagne, but a silly idea fizzed in her heart, and she couldn't resist asking him, "You said you'll take me wherever I want . . . so will you take me on that Ferris wheel, Mike?" It just looked too pretty out there, and too blue-she had to see it up close, had to see the view from the top of it with him at her side.
If she expected him to huff up in macho indignation, he didn't. "I somehow had the feeling that was coming," he laughed.
As they left, she leaned heavily on him so as not to wobble unsteadily on the low heels Rowan had insisted she buy. Heels weren't Savannah's thing; at five-ten, she felt gigantic enough most days. But the dress, Rowan had said, demanded heels.
The elevator they stepped into was glass, affording the same spectacular city view as that in the restaurant. Just the two of them. As soon as the door swept shut, Savannah found herself pushed against the glass wall with Mike's hands cupping her face and his mouth on hers, hot and demanding, his tongue sliding sinuously past her lips. Flavors mingling. Delicious. Dropping her clutch, she slid both arms around his neck the way she'd wanted all night as the elevator began its dizzying drop. God help her, she was falling with it, the only thing holding her steady his hard body against hers as they plunged toward the ground with all the dazzling lights of downtown Houston whizzing past.
"Been needing to do that all night," he whispered in her ear, somehow adding to the vertigo assailing her from the champagne and the fall and the food and him.
"Been needing you to," she said, shivering. Floor after floor after floor whooshed past. His hands found her ass, pulling her hard to him so she could feel how hard he was. He tasted so good, spice and Cristal and a hint of sweetness from dessert; she could rip his shirt open across his broad chest and eat him alive right here, and if this elevator didn't stop soon so they could get to his place, she was going to try it. She felt light-headed and weak, consumed, feeling every thrust of his tongue like it was a thrust into her aching pussy.
"Michael," she whimpered against him. He pulled back, his thumbs stroking her cheeks.
"What is it, darlin'?" God, the way he called her that . . .
Scared. Confused. Want you so much. Never felt this way. A million responses to his concern swirled in her addled brain, but she couldn't settle on one. And the elevator was slowing, having miraculously reached its destination without a single stop on the way down. Savannah shook her head, trying to clear it. "Nothing. I'm okay."
He looked at her for a long moment, then knelt to retrieve the clutch she'd dropped to the floor. Thank God, because after that session, she would have walked out and forgotten it. "Are you sure?"
Nodding, she took her purse and the arm he offered and let him steady her for the walk to his truck. The lobby of the Hyatt Regency was bustling with evening activity, couples on their way out or coming back in, and as Savannah noticed the surreptitious glances the women kept sending Mike at her side, a sense of pride bloomed in her chest. Mine, she thought. He could be mine. It doesn't have to end tomorrow. We could see where this goes. Couldn't we? Maybe?
Far, far too soon to even think of that. It would be life changing. But so delicious to consider, to find someone who was such a total package that she was even willing to consider it.
Chapter Fourteen
"You know, I've lived here all my life and I've never been here," Mike remarked as they entered the Downtown Aquarium, and Savannah felt giddy as a kid at the sight of the aquarium exhibits . . . too giddy even to mind that she was way overdressed for a family attraction and amusement park.
"Really? I would be here all the time."
"I don't doubt that," he remarked, taking her hand with what seemed to be a genuine smile on his face. Savannah grinned at him and marveled at the exhibits, laughing when they reached the one called the Louisiana Swamp, replete with alligators, turtles, and a roof made of leaves. There was even a ramshackle little cabin set amid the woodsy backdrop. "Hey, I'm home."
Mike burst out laughing. "You're crazy."
"What? You don't think I wrestle alligators in my spare time?"
"I think you could wrestle anything you damn well please."
"I'll wrestle you," she murmured into his ear, earning herself a nice growl that sent a shiver all the way to her toes.
"Hey, now. This is a family establishment. There are kids around."
She pouted and he dropped a chaste kiss on the top of her head. They strolled along, gazing at the various sea creatures. "Do you want kids someday?" she asked him, knowing it was probably a loaded question for a dude but still running on a little bit of that liquid courage.
"Someday, maybe," he said easily. "I like kids. I've done some mentoring at the gym. If I can help one of them the way my coach helped me, it's awesome. He didn't just teach me how to fight, you know, but how not to. Well . . . he tried, anyway," he added, chuckling.
"Oh, wow, I bet you're great at that," she said. "I can't wait to be, like, the coolest aunt ever. I definitely want kids of my own someday." There were so many around right now, squealing over the fish and various aquatic life, it was hard not to get caught up in their infectious enthusiasm.
Mike put an arm around her shoulders, his fingers warm on her bare skin. She slid hers around his waist. They fit together so perfectly. Outside, the amusement park had carnival-themed games and rides-not the least of which was the towering Ferris wheel they'd observed from the restaurant. She couldn't wait to get on. There was also a drop tower ride and a merry-go-round . . . but she figured she shouldn't press her luck. Mike won her a teddy bear at one of the games; Savannah promptly named him Oscar.