But Conner just held my gaze, something unreadable in his expression. "Why are you telling me this?"
His voice was lower than before. Rougher.
Good question. I didn't have a good answer. Only the truth.
"Because I can't stop thinking about what it would be like." I swallowed. "With you."
The silence stretched between us. One heartbeat. Two. The wind howled outside, and the lights flickered once, twice, then steadied.
Conner slid out of his side of the booth and stood there, looking down at me. My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it.
"Kameron." He said my name like it meant something. "Are you sure?"
I should say no. I should laugh it off, blame the late hour, the strange intimacy of being snowed in together. Go back to being the manager with the clipboard and the walls that kept everyone at a safe distance.
Instead, I stood up. "I'm sure."
The words left my mouth before I could second-guess them, hanging in the dim light of the empty restaurant like a challenge. Conner's eyes darkened, searching mine for any hint of hesitation. There was none. Not tonight. Not with him.
He didn't move right away. Just nodded once, slow and deliberate, like he was giving me one last out. When I didn't take it, something shifted in the air between us—it suddenly became charged.
I stepped past him, my pulse racing as I headed toward the back. The manager's office was just down the short hallway, past the kitchen doors. Small, cramped, barely big enough for the desk and a filing cabinet, but it had a lock. And right now, that was all that mattered.
I didn't look back to see if he was following. I didn’t need to. I could feel him behind me, the heat of his presence like a shadow I wanted to pull closer.
The office door creaked as I pushed it open. The desk was a mess—papers stacked high from inventory reports I'd been meaning to file, a half-empty mug of coffee gone cold days ago.
I didn't care. I turned to face him, my back to the desk, and reached for the scattered sheets. With one sweep of my arm, I shoved them aside, sending a cascade of papers fluttering to the floor like the snow had come inside.
Then I climbed onto the desk, perching on the edge. My heart hammered so loud, I was sure he could hear it.
Conner stepped in after me, closing the door with a soft click that echoed like a gunshot in the tiny space. He didn't lock it yet. Just leaned back against it, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching me with that intense, unblinking gaze. Like he was waiting. Like he was daring me to take the lead.
I wasn't sure I could. This was all new—terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. But the way he looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world worth seeing, made me bold.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the button of my jeans. I popped it open, the sound sharp in the quiet room. Then the zipper, slow and deliberate. I lifted my hips just enough to wiggle out of them, shimmying the denim down my legs until it pooled at my ankles. I kicked off my shoes and let the jeans fall to the floor, daring him with my eyes to say something, do something.
He didn't. Not yet. Instead, he reached for the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. His chest was broad, dusted with dark hair that trailed down to the waistband of his pants, muscles shifting under tanned skin from years of hard work.
God, he was beautiful. I couldn't look away.
Emboldened, I shrugged off my cardigan, letting it drop. Then I removed my T-shirt, peeling it up and over my head. The air was cool on my flushed skin, raising goosebumps as I sat there in just my plain cotton bra and panties. Nothing fancy—simple white cotton, the kind I'd thrown on this morning without a thought.
Heat crept up my neck. I hadn't planned for this, hadn't dressed for seduction. I crossed my arms instinctively, suddenly shy.
Conner's gaze roamed over me, hot and appreciative, no hint of disappointment. If anything, his jaw tightened, his breath coming a little rougher.
He took a step forward, but I lifted my hand, palm out. "Stop."
He froze, one brow arching in question.
"Strip," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "All of it."
I didn't know where this commanding side of me was coming from—the girl who'd always played it safe, always waited for permission. But I liked it. The power of it thrummed through me like a drug.
Conner groaned low in his throat, but there was a spark of amusement—and heat—in his eyes. He toed off his boots, then unbuckled his belt, the metal clink loud in the cramped space. Pants next, shoved down with his boxers in one go. He stepped out of them, kicking them aside, until he stood there completely bare.
Magnificent. Hard already, thick and heavy, curving up against his stomach. My mouth went dry, a rush of wetness between my thighs at the sight of him.
