After a moment she glanced up, aware that he hadn't replied.
He was watching her with a curious look on his face. He was probably wondering what on earth she knew about it. She'd told him she was a receptionist, after all.
"I listen to them talking, at work. They deal with a lot of top notch property." Why hadn't she remembered? The answer was, of course, sitting in front of her. He was such a distraction. She made a mental note to clarify what she did for a living, but she didn't want to bring it up tonight and break the current flow.
Thankfully he spoke, covering her awkwardness. "Of course you listen. I'm glad you think it has potential."
His eyes had that shuttered look that made her want to explore the enigmatic side of him, to find the real man who was so alluring to her and find out more than he had already revealed. But wasn't it a stranger she'd wanted?
He tucked the photos back into his jacket, then picked up the menu and described to her the range of liqueurs that she had to choose from before they left.
"This is sex in a glass," she commented, while sipping her Metaxa appreciatively.
"Do you think about sex all the time?" he teased, as if pleased that she liked the Greek brandy.
"Not quite," she replied, chuckling.
"Isn't it inconvenient, when you're working for example?" He wasn't going to let it go.
"No. Sometimes I think my sex drive fuels everything I do."
He was laughing quietly, his hand partially covering his mouth as he looked at her. He was enjoying some secret thoughts.
"Don't laugh, you're embarrassing me. Anyway, circumstances prevail, I'm with a very sexy man." She gestured at him.
He actually looked embarrassed. So, it was possible. She congratulated herself inwardly and stored the moment away. She suspected it was a rare treat.
They stared at each other across the table, their mutual attraction making heat and energy flow between them. It charged their bodies with its suggestions, with its demands. Her lips parted and a she gave a hungry sigh. His hand slipped down her bare arm and stroked it firmly.
"Witch," he murmured his voice a low hiss.
Her hips rocked instinctively and she pressed down into the hardness of her chair. His gaze fell as he took in the movement of her body and his hand paused on her arm. He glanced up.
"Are you always like this, Abby?" He spoke in a low whisper.
"No, it's you. I want you."
Their mutual passion was total and it was uninhibited. His mouth moved into a smile and he tugged the thin strap of her dress at her shoulder with one finger. "You're making me hard."
"You're making me wet."
"Tell me about it."
She didn't reply. She was watching the candlelight flicker in his eyes while she savored the movement of his leg against hers under the table. She slipped her foot out of her sandal and moved it until it was between his legs.
His eyebrows lifted when she slunk down in her chair and put her bare foot over the bulge of his cock in his pants. He moved his hand under the table to close over her ankle.
His hand was warm and firm. He stroked her calf muscle and she felt her eyes start to close as she savored it.
"Are you going to tell me?" he whispered. He had a compelled look about him.
"I'm creaming for you."
His eyes narrowed, his passionate mouth growing taut with restraint as he listened.
"When I move...I'm sticky with it." She moved again. "My G-string is clinging to me."
"Open your legs." His expression left her no choice.