Dating is a level of hell I prefer to ignore, but for Savannah, I can make the effort.
Parker was my hook up for the restaurant—he pulled his New York strings, and suddenly I had a table at this hot new sushi place. All monochromatic colors and small bits of food served on little cubes of noori-wrapped rice. I don’t have the best track record with sushi, as everyone knows from my food poisoning incident a few years back. Part of me wonders if Parker did this as some kind of revenge. But I forget about all that when we’re shown to our table.
“I can’t believe you got reservations here,” Savannah gushes, gazing around the lush interior. “I’ve been dying to come here.”
Right away, I start to relax. Savannah can have that effect on a man. We’re seated beside each other in a secluded booth, in the back of the restaurant.
She smiles over the rim of her wine glass. She wore dark red lipstick this evening, and on her pale skin it makes her lips stand out like lush berries, waiting to be tasted.
“Do you take all your ladies here?” she asks, noticing my lingering gaze.
“You’re my first,” I wink.
“There is something Cash Gardner hasn’t done? I’m shocked.” She’s teasing.
“I’m open to new experiences.” My gaze drops to her lips again, then lower. Her curves are on fine display tonight in a little black dress that’s begging to be tossed on my bedroom floor. That kiss from before was a tantalizing taste of what’s to come, but dammit, I don’t want to sit through the main course before I get to enjoy dessert.
“So where do you usually take other girls?” Savannah asks.
“On a little walk up a short flight of stairs. If you’re nice, I’ll show you my apartment sometime,” I add.
“So no dating for Cash Gardner?” Savannah reaches for the edamame beans and teases one free from the skin.
“Interested in my dating life?”
She shrugs with a bashful grin. “You know all about mine.”
This is probably why I’ve put off dating as long as I have, because at some point a girl like Savannah is going to start asking questions.
I try to keep things light. “You think I have no standards.”
“Standards… or direction,” she offers. And coming after a million other digs about my bachelor lifestyle, I can’t let this one go.
“Always have to be heading somewhere, don’t you?” I ask. “So what is this, then? Dinner between friends? Dinner between more than friends? A date?”
That stumps her. Savannah for once cannot find a quick comeback. She may play the prim and proper lawyer, but clut I’m sure she’s just as ready to cut loose as the rest of us.
“What do you want it to be?” she asks.
“That’s not up to me, is it? It takes two to make this work.” I fix my gaze on her, not letting her eyes fall away. “Sometimes you need to let go of what’s holding you back, dragging you down.”
“And what do you think is holding me back?” she asks, her gaze turning cautious. I know she’s expecting me to bring up that asshole Tanner, but he’s not the problem right now.
“That whip-smart brain of yours. You’re thinking too much,” I tell her.
She laughs. “You prefer your women brainless?”
“No, I’m saying, you overthink things, it’s what you do. You’re a lawyer, you’re used to making arguments, being logical. But some things aren’t about logic. They’re instinct. Heat. Chemistry.”
I slide a hand under the table and find her bare knee. I stroke the soft skin gently. Savannah inhales in a rush, so damn sexy it’s hard to keep control.
“You got your heart broken, so now you’re trying to play it safe. It’s why you’re so obsessed with this idea of finding something real, a stable relationship,” I tell her, still tracing slow circles on the inside of her knee. “But did you ever think that might be the last thing you need? Whatever happened to following your gut? Taking something because you want it. Because you need it.”
My hand traces higher. Savannah’s eyes glaze. Her knees part, allowing my fingers to edge further up under her skirt.
I can see her breath coming faster now. “What if I want something I shouldn’t have?” she whispers.
“Shouldn’t?” I echo, still fighting to keep it together. Damn, the feel of this woman’s silky thighs has blood rushing straight to my cock. “Says who?”
Savannah shrugs. “Cassie. Ryder. You.”
Me?
“You keep telling me, you don’t do relationships. You just like to fuck and run.”
I grit my teeth. “I can promise you, Savannah, after I’ve fucked you the way you deserve to be fucked, both of us are going to be too spent to be running anywhere.”
Her eyes flash. She bites her lip, and I can see the desire warring in her eyes. She’s on the edge, ready to leap.
The least I can do is make it easy for her.
Curling my fingertips higher between her thighs, I brush against the lace of her panties. Savannah jolts. I stroke again, and I see her lips part in a silent moan.
Her panties are damp to the touch.