Page 43 of Not the Plan

She slid closer to him on the seat. Crossed her legs under the table and tucked her shin behind his calf. She leaned toward him, sliding the tip of her finger down the lapel of his jacket. He was afraid his heart was going to shoot out of his chest.

“In the weeks after the flight, I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” she said.

He was parched. A gulp of wine would have helped, but he couldn’t move.

“You couldn’t?”

“No,” she whispered.

She moved closer still, the underside of her breasts grazing the arm he’d rested on the table. When she inhaled to speak again, they pressed against it, he couldn’t doubt she was doing it on purpose, couldn’t fight the want coursing through him. She caressed his cheek.

“Me either,” he whispered back.

She smiled, trailing her fingers along his jaw, over his lips. Then she bit her lip.

Doubt and hesitation evaporated. He gave in to the desire he’d been fighting for weeks.

“Isadora,” he whispered, wetting his lips.

“Yes?” she whispered back.

“I need to kiss you now.”

“I need you to kiss me, Karim.”

—

For a moment, their kiss was gentle. Then he angled himself toward her, pulled her closer to consume her. She opened her mouth to his, sliding her tongue against his, devouring him in turn. He groaned, one hand caressing the silken skin of her arm, the other cupping her cheek, his fingertips sliding into the hair at the nape of her neck. She pulled back to let them both breatheand then came at him again. He wanted to put his arms around her, to tear off her clothes. But the table was in the way, and he remembered it was a public place. She broke the kiss, staying close enough to whisper to him.

“Stop,” she panted.

“What’s wrong?” He was out of breath too.

“Dance with me. I need your body against mine…now…”

Out of the booth in a flash, he offered her his hand. She took it and followed him onto the dance floor. He pulled her close, crushing her body against his. The music had a Latin feel to it but was slow enough to dance to; they clung to each other, and no one noticed.

—

Several hours later, the club closed, and Isadora was quiet as he drove her back to her condo. He wasn’t going to mess things up by pushing too hard, but he didn’t want the night to end as he walked her to her door. He brushed his lips across the spot where her neck met her bare shoulder as she stepped onto her doormat. Her shiver and giggle were going to haunt his dreams that night.

“Back to the capitol tomorrow,” he said, leaning against her door, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

“Yeah…” she whispered. “I have an early flight.”

“Too bad,” he said.Dammit. Why not just say outright that you want her to invite you in, idiot? Slow down, no reason to rush.

“What time is yours?” she asked.

“I’m driving back tomorrow. Need to have my car up there.”

Her brow knitted together. “That’s a long drive. You’d better get some rest.” The worry in her tone touched him, that she would be concerned about him like that.

“Yeah, I should.”

“Please be careful,” she said.

“I will. Unless…”

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