Wound Up(11)

                “Hey.” She tipped her head to the side and grabbed his attention. “I’m perfectly capable of saying no.”

                “Yeah, but—”

                Laying her fingers across his lips, she shook her head. “No.”

                “What I meant was—”

                “No.” She pulled her hand away. “See? I told you I’m good at saying it.”

                He arched a brow and his lips twitched.

                “I mean it, Justin. Short of a brief but intimate introduction to my tonsils and your insider knowledge of my grades in Psych 410, 510 and 525, we’re strangers. You’ll have to trust I know myself well enough to ask for what I need.” Closing the distance between them, she placed one hand over his heart and ran the other around his neck. With soft pressure, she pulled him close. “And what I want is you.” She laid her lips over his in a tender kiss.

                He responded with unerring skill, moving over her lips to her jaw and laying small kisses all the way to her ear. “Might I interest you in grabbing some dinner?”

                Her heart lodged in her throat at the question. The most she could manage was a small shake of her head. The hitch in his breath made her curl her fingers into the short wisps of hair at the nape of his neck. “I’ve already eaten.”

                “I’m starving.”

                Desire wove through those two simple words, and she understood it wasn’t just food he craved. She leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she reveled in his strength as he pulled her even closer. The scent of laundry detergent from his clothes mingled with his cologne to give him a clean, masculine smell she loved.

                He rested his chin atop her head and stroked her back in an achingly tender gesture. “I’d like to grab something to eat. I want to do this right. We can decide where to go from there, okay?”

                “What sounds good to you?”

                “I need protein and carbs. Dancing burns me out.” He pulled away and, cupping her jaw, tipped her face up to his. “You did really well on stage.”

                “Thanks. So did you.”

                His head fell back as he laughed. Settling, he grinned down at her. “You didn’t tip me.”

                “Maybe I’m holding out for a private performance.”

                Blue eyes darkened with desire. “I bet we can arrange something after I eat.”

                Grace traced the planes of his chest through the soft cotton of his shirt, thinking. She could play this any number of ways. Games weren’t her style, though. Direct communication was much more in line with her preferences. So...taking a deep breath, she met his gaze head on. “I suppose there’s dinner or...breakfast.”

                Justin’s heart tripped beneath her palm before it began to hammer against his rib cage. His lips parted, but he said nothing.

                “Or we could—”

                “Breakfast is perfect.” Lacing their fingers together, he lifted their joined hands to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “Did you drive tonight?”

                “I actually rode with friends.” She pulled free and began to dig in her purse, determined to find Meg’s cell phone. “I can call a cab.”