"Savannah..."
"I know." She finishes her Port in one swallow, sets the glass down with a soft clink. "I know all the reasons we should go home."
"We should get out of here," I say, signaling Henri for the check.
The bill arrives quickly, and I don't even glance at the total before sliding my card across the leather portfolio. Some things are worth any price, and tonight - this moment with Savannah looking at me like she wants to devour me - is priceless.
We stand simultaneously, and I have to steady her when she sways slightly. The contact - my hand on her elbow, her body warm against mine - sends electricity shooting through my nervous system.
"Easy," I murmur, close enough to smell her perfume over the lingering scents of wine and food.
"I'm fine. Just... a little dizzy."
"How much did we actually drink?"
She considers the question seriously. "Enough to make this seem like a brilliant idea instead of a catastrophically stupid one."
"Which one is it really?"
"Both. Definitely both."
I guide her toward the exit, my hand settling on the small of her back. The restaurant has mostly emptied, just a few couples lingering over coffee and dessert. The hostess nods politely as we pass, but I'm focused entirely on the woman beside me, the way her hips sway with each step, the vanilla and floral scent that's been driving me crazy all evening.
The cool October air hits us as we step outside, and Savannah shivers slightly. Without thinking, I shrug out of my blazerand drape it around her shoulders. The gesture is automatic, protective, and she looks up at me with surprise.
"Thank you," she says softly, pulling the jacket closer around herself.
I pull out my phone to call a taxi, but Savannah catches my wrist, her fingers warm against my skin. "Wait," she says, and there's something in her voice that makes me look up from the screen.
"Xavier," she says, and my name on her lips sounds like a question and an invitation all at once.
Instead of finishing the call, I slide my phone back into my pocket and guide her into the narrow alley beside the restaurant. It's dimly lit, private, away from the few pedestrians still wandering the downtown streets. She doesn't resist, doesn't question where we're going. If anything, she seems to understand the need for somewhere we can be alone, even if just for a moment.
I back her gently against the brick wall, my hands bracing on either side of her head. She's looking up at me with those brown eyes that shift from green to gold in the low light, her breathing slightly uneven. My blazer hangs loose on her smaller frame, and I can see the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath the dark fabric.
"You said I always play it safe," I murmur, close enough that my breath stirs the loose strands of hair around her face.
"You do," she whispers back, but there's a tremor in her voice that tells me she's not entirely sure about that anymore. Her hands come up to rest against my chest, fingers splaying over the cotton of my dress shirt.
"You said I couldn't break the rules."
"Can you?" The challenge in her voice is softer now, breathier, and I can feel the way her body leans into mine despite the wall at her back.
Instead of answering with words, I lean down and capture her lips with mine. The kiss is slow, deliberate, nothing like the careful, controlled man she thinks she knows. I take my time exploring her mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness of Port and chocolate, and the unique flavor that's purely her.
She melts against me, her hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel every soft curve pressed against my harder planes, the way her body fits perfectly against mine. When I finally break the kiss, we're both breathing hard, and I can see the surprise in her eyes - surprise and something that looks dangerously like hunger.
"Still think I can't break the rules?" I ask, my voice rougher than usual.
Before she can answer, I let one hand drift from the wall to trace the line of her jaw, fingers ghosting over her skin with deliberate slowness. She shivers under my touch, her head tilting slightly to give me better access as I trail my fingertips down her neck, across her collarbone where my blazer has fallen open.
"Xavier..." she breathes, and I can smell the way her scent changes, becoming richer, more complex.
My hand continues its journey downward, skimming over the silk of her dress, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath the thin fabric. She's trembling now, her eyes never leaving mine as I slowly, deliberately slip my hand beneath the hem at her thighs. Her stockings are silk-smooth under my palm as I trace upward, and she presses back against the wall as if trying to steady herself.
"I love the way you smell," I murmur against her ear, my fingers finding the heat between her legs through the thin barrier of her stockings and underwear. "Sweet vanilla and arousal. It's intoxicating."
She gasps, her head falling back against the brick wall, one hand clutching at my shoulder while the other tangles in my hair. Her legs part slightly, an unconscious invitation that sends heat racing straight through my bloodstream.
