Wound Up(17)

                He leaned over and tasted the sweetness from her mouth.

                Her eyes flared before closing again.

                She tasted decadent, rich and smooth with a hint of crisp, caramelized sugar.

                It was the best taste he’d ever had on his tongue.

                Taking the spoon from him, she set it down and retrieved a strawberry. She presented the meatiest part of the fruit, tracing his lips with it, teasing, before she let him take a bite.

                Justin realized he was going to cause a scene when he stood up and the world caught sight of the undeniable erection pounding against the waistband of his jeans.

                “Jeez. Get a room,” someone nearby muttered.

                Annoyed someone would disrespect Grace, he started to whip around and address the speaker.

                Grace squeezed his fingers, stopping him.

                “That’s a fabulous idea,” she said, so softly he thought he must have misunderstood.

                “Sorry?”

                She met his gaze without flinching. “I said, that’s a fabulous idea.”

                “Getting a room?” he asked stupidly.

                “Yes, Justin.” She leaned over and nipped his bottom lip before whispering, “And make it somewhere nearby.”

                He let go of her hand to flip the check over as he dug out his wallet. He dropped enough to cover the bill and tip, grabbed Grace’s hand and hauled her out of the restaurant.

                She laughed as she followed. “It doesn’t have to be a fifty-yard dash.”

                Opening the car door for her, he muttered, “The first time, it probably will be. After that? Monopoly is all about strategy and longevity, baby.” He met her wide-eyed gaze. “This is what you’re getting into with me—all night. No compromises on pleasure given or received. No apologies tomorrow. We talk about what happens next after that.”

                “Take me to breakfast and you’ve got a deal.”

                “Done.”

                Justin did his best to walk to the driver’s side calmly.

                He was pretty sure he failed.

                * * *

                JUSTIN WAS ALREADY backing the car out of the parking space before Grace could buckle her seat belt.

                He sped down the 519, his eyes scanning the buildings as they flashed by. “If you don’t have any objections, I thought the Best Western in Pioneer Square would be nice.”

                “Sounds perfect to me,” she said, voice husky.

                Justin’s grip tightened on the wheel as he sped up. “You’re making me crazy. The voice thing? It’s going to push me over the edge.”

                “Can’t help it,” she murmured.

                He glanced at her quickly. “Seriously?”

                “Happens when I get turned on, I guess.”

                “You guess?”