The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

I smile bashfully; he’s talking about me.

“Tell me about last weekend,” he asks.

“Not much to tell.”

“You broke up with him?”

“It was a long time coming.”

“You weren’t happy?”

“No. Not for a long time.”

“What’s his name? What does he do?”

“I’m not telling you his name,” I snap. “He’s a businessman—successful and handsome,” I lie.

He sips his wine as he watches me, and I know he has something else on his mind.

“What?” I ask.

“Did you ever think about me?”

“Yes.” I smile softly. “Did you ever think about me?”

“I did, actually.” His eyes hold mine.

“What did you think about?”

A slow, sexy smile crosses his face.

“What?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“No, I do.” I smile. “Tell me.”

“I was thinking that you were probably the hottest sex I’d ever had.” His eyes drop to my lips.

The air crackles between us.

“And even now, every time I’m in a room with you, it’s as if my body takes on a need of its own.”

Time stops as we stare at each other.

He sips his wine in slow motion. “When I look at you . . . I have one thing on my mind,” he murmurs. “I can’t help it. It’s almost primal.”

Primal.

“It’s getting damn hard to control,” he whispers darkly.

Damn, this man is something else, but every warning signal is telling me to run away as fast as I can. If he can affect me the way he did after one night . . . what could two nights do?

Our eyes are locked, and arousal heats my blood. Suddenly I don’t want to play hard to get; I don’t care if we don’t know each other. I don’t care about the risks. He has something that I need . . . and damn it, I’m taking it without questions.

“We should order,” I whisper.

He opens the menu with a sense of urgency. “What do you want?”