Page 93 of Swept for Forever
Her hair was swept up, a few strands slipping loose toframe her face and draw out the color in her eyes, eyes that already had me undone.
Then came her scent. Warm, a little sweet, and unmistakably her. It drifted toward me just before she did, and suddenly, I wasn’t a man in a restaurant anymore.
I was a man about to lose every bit of sense I had.
I didn’t let her make it to the table. I crossed the room, my hand already finding her waist as I tugged her close and pressed a kiss to her lips, right there in front of everyone.
She barely got a breath in before I deepened it, my fingers pressing into the dip of her spine. She tasted like something I could get addicted to. Actually, something I alreadywas.
When I pulled back, her eyes were wide, her lips parted.
I smirked. “Well. Didn’t you scrub up well,” I murmured in her ear, repeating exactly what I’d said the first time I’d seen her in a dress.
Back then, I’d had no clue what to say. The first time my lawyer tongue had ever failed me, and the best I could manage was a cliché. She’d laughed, probably thinking I was a little hopeless.
This time, it was different. This time, it was a memory Iwantedto relive. A fond reminisce of every moment that had stayed with me. Every single one.
Her lips curled. “Not bad yourself.”
I pulled out her chair and helped her slip off her coat, every gentlemanly gesture ingrained in me from years of good manners and the fact that I’d do anything for her.
I signaled the waiter and ordered a bottle of wine before settling in.
“So.” I leaned back, watching her with amusement. “Escaping through the roof. That your thing?”
She laughed, her eyes shining. “Hard habits die hard. Or maybe I just haven’t grown up yet.”
I shook my head. “You were a ninja. Seriously.”
She smirked, taking a sip of wine. “Well, Iwasa gymnast.”
“That explains it,” I said, leaning forward. “And great to see you’re still wearing the T-shirt I gave you.”
Her brows lifted. “Oh?”
“I’ve still got the matching one. Haven’t worn it in a while though.”
“You should. It makes a great pajama top.”
My brain took a nosedive straight to bed.
Dammit.
Other guests filtered into the restaurant—a large family first, then a younger couple trailing behind.
Autumn’s expression shifted just slightly as she lifted a hand in greeting.
The girl gave a polite nod. But the guy? He looked at us like we’d risen from the grave.
“Who’s that?” I asked, casually sliding my hand over hers on the table.
“Oh, college friends,” she said. “We were all on the same swimming squad.”
I smirked. “No wonder you smashed me in the river.”
She grinned, lifting her glass. “Unfair advantage, I guess.”
“Otter,” I murmured, testing the nickname on my tongue again. God, I’d missed saying it. I reached up, cupping her cheek, my thumb grazing over skin that was smooth and a little flushed.
