And tonight, he intended to have.
"Just take Fourth Street," she said, pulling him from his fantasies. "Then you can cut down to Neilson Way and take that almost all the way to my house. It's not much farther." She smoothed her hands down her skirt, looking a little skittish, then glanced sideways at him. "I appreciate the ride home."
"Did you think I wouldn't come back with you?"
"I--" She cut herself off with a shake of her head. "Nothing."
He frowned as he took the exit and maneuvered the surface streets. In the gallery, he'd felt her tremble beneath his touch. Had heard her soft moans as he stroked her and felt the pounding of her pulse when he pulled her body against his. And when they'd left--when he'd all but promised that he would have her soon--he'd heard her soft intake of breath and saw the way her nipples hardened against the soft material of the that barely-there dress that he longed to rip off her.
Her arousal was like a palpable thing, and yet she'd sat prim and stiff in the car all the way from downtown to the beach. And he didn't have a goddamn clue why.
Well, screw that.
He reached over, put his hand on her bare thigh, just below where the hem of the dress grazed her leg. Slowly, he brushed his thumb back and forth, and was gratified to see her close her eyes and bite her lower lip. "Tell me," he demanded. "Tell me what you were going to say."
She hesitated, then licked her lips. "It's just that what you said--soon--I didn't realize--I mean, I thought tonight you were hiring me only for the show."
It was as if she'd kicked him in the gut, and he yanked his hand back to the steering wheel, his eyes straight ahead. "You're saying you want more money?" He spoke calmly, telling himself this was no big deal. But for the first time in forever, the idea of paying for sex made him vaguely ill.
"No!" She blurted out the word with such force he almost slammed on the brake out of reflex. "No," she repeated more softly. "That's not what I--oh, God. Never mind. Just turn here. And then that's my house right there," she added, after he complied. "With the stucco fence."
He pulled up in front, astounded to have found an actual parking space, and killed the engine. "Laine--"
"Please. Let's just drop it." She opened her door, and he did the same. "I appreciate the ride, but you don't have to get out," she said.
"I'm walking you to the door."
He thought for a moment that she was going to argue, but she must have sensed his determination, because she nodded once, then paused at her gate while he circled the car. She keyed in the code, and he followed her into a delightful front lawn filled with flowers and whimsy, all of which seemed to suit her perfectly, right down to the little concrete frog by the front steps.
"Your house is charming," he said as they reached the front porch.
"Thanks. I grew up here," she added, and he noted that the nervousness he'd heard in the car had disappeared. "I've done a lot of work to this place over the last few years."
She pushed open the front door, then paused on the threshold. "Anyway, thanks again. I should hurry. I still need to change, and--"
He shut her up with a kiss.
For a moment, her lips were hard as stone against his. Then they parted just slightly, and he took advantage, his tongue sweeping in to taste her. To tease her.
She moaned, letting herself fall further into the kiss, and he held her close, one hand at the back of her head, the other at her waist. She tasted like summer. As warm as sunshine and as sweet as cotton candy.
Hell, she tasted like hope. And damn him, he couldn't get enough of her.
He broke the kiss long enough to murmur, "Inside," then steered them both into the dark room. Already he mourned the lack of contact, and he pushed the door shut, then pressed her against it before impatiently sliding his hand up to her breast as he bent to claim her mouth once more.
He didn't make it.
Instead, she twisted her head to the side, her palm pressing against his chest to hold him at bay as she said, "I have to get ready. I can't be late for my shift."
He cupped her chin in his hand, then turned her head to face him. "Skip work. Stay with me." He punctuated the words with a slow, deep kiss. "Not because I'm paying you," he said, "but because you want to."
"What if I don't?" Her words were so soft he could barely hear them.
"Not an issue. Do you think I can't tell?" He pressed his fingertip to her trembling lip, then drew it slowly lower, tracing her jaw, then stroking her neck as she arched back, whimpering a little as she offered herself to him.
He bent his head and kissed her neck, moving lower and lower until he reached her breast. Then he closed his mouth over her, teasing her through the material of her dress.
"Please," she murmured as the hand on his chest clutched his shirt, and her other hand cupped the back of his head, forcing his mouth harder against her body.