Instead, he stepped off the curb and threw his arm up. He wasn’t the only one. Despite the subway station nearby, people wanted cabs, preferably with air-conditioning.
A brush of fingers on his bare arm startled him. He leaned toward her so he could hear her against all the traffic noise.
“Sorry,” she said.
He dropped his arm. “Oh—”
“No, not like that. I was going to say something, but I lost the thread. It’ll come back to me.”
“Sure. Okay.”
She smiled. Then she lifted her arm as she turned her attention to the stream of traffic. Not five seconds later, a yellow taxi stopped.
Inside, the cab smelled fresh and felt cool. Molly gave the driver her address, and they both settled in the back, close but not touching.
“I noticed you do a lot of teaching,” he said, hoping to recapture the mood from dinner. “Have you ever done that on a wine-tasting cruise?”
Her short laugh was answer enough. “What made you think of that?”
“I saw a commercial. Seven days to Paris and Normandy. It showed a table full of guests with five or six glasses of wine in front of them. It sounded great...until I thought of rough seas.”
Molly coughed and laughed at the same time, and he thought she might even be choking. All he could do was pat her back until she held up her hand to stop him. She took a couple of deep, clear breaths before she sat back and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“That was horrible,” she said.
“I have no excuse. It was wine related, and my mind just went there, and I can’t do anything but apologize.”
“I don’t think one apology is nearly enough.” She shivered. “God, what a picture.”
But instead of telling the cabbie to pull over so she could shove him out the door, she giggled. That same light-as-air laugh that he’d heard in the restaurant. For his next trick, he hoped to inspire another wide grin.
“I thought this would be the easiest date in the history of dates,” she said.
“Me, too.”
“In some ways, it has been.” She was staring intently at him. The humor of a minute ago had been replaced with a hint of confusion that Cam didn’t understand.
“And not just because of our jobs. Okay, some of it is because of our similar careers, but there was—”
“A connection.”
“Yeah.”
He’d moved closer to her when she was coughing. His thigh pressed against hers, the top of his arm touched her shoulder. Her eyes widened as he leaned in to press his lips against hers.
She gasped.
He didn’t move or breathe.
Until she made it a kiss.
* * *
MOLLY INHALED THE SCENT of toasty-rich caramel malt layered with a hint of citrus and spice as she brushed her lips against Cam’s. With her eyes closed it was easy to concentrate on the aromas as they spread across the length of her soft palate. But it would take more than scent to reveal the man underneath. At least the air-conditioning wasn’t so loud that it blocked the sound of his breath, the click of his swallow.
He pressed forward, opening her mouth, eager for more, but her hand on his jaw slowed him down long enough for her to run the tip of her tongue across his bottom lip.
She’d studied his mouth in the restaurant. Not in a creepy way, but that plump bottom lip of his was very enticing. He tasted lightly sweet.
He moaned when she slid her tongue past his teeth to where the echo of hops and grains was strongest, but when he pressed back, her train of thought snapped and all she could do was surrender to the far more primal thrust and parry.
This was exactly what she’d hoped for. To find a man to turn off her brain, let her forget the mountain of work that waited on the other side of her front door, the pressure to find time, any kind of time, to sleep without her to-do list jolting her awake.
The way he kissed her, firm and hungry and sure, promised a fantastic vacation of a night, the kind she would remember for weeks when she needed a coma-inducing orgasm after a stressful day.
His hand, large and warm, roamed down her back as he pulled away from the kiss, only to tilt his head to the right, finding an angle that let him pull her body tight against his chest.
The cab’s sharp turn parted them too soon.
“You okay?”
Cameron had whispered the words as he stared without blinking. His breathing had morphed into rapid panting, as if he’d run a great distance. She liked knowing that she’d done that to him.
“Good.”
She closed her eyes seconds before he kissed her again. They were both leaning now, and in this position she felt smaller. She was normally an expert at making herself disappear in uncomfortable situations, but this was entirely different. Cam was tall. Six-two? Six-three? With his broad chest pressing against her front and his big hands on her back, she felt petite. And petite felt safe. At least with Cameron.
She couldn’t hold back a whimper when he stopped, but instead of pulling away his lips went to the sensitive spot behind her ear. He nibbled at her skin, giving her goose bumps, and when he took her earlobe between his teeth, she trembled.
“We need to give the driver a very big tip,” she said, her voice high and airy and not like her at all.
“I’ll double it if she slows down.” He continued kissing her, prompting more whimpers and breathy moans from her, louder now.
Loud enough, evidently.
The taxi decelerated as Molly’s heart sped up.
Even if they slowed to a crawl, they were going to get to her place eventually. Tonight could be perfect. Seriously perfect. She even had a bottle of Pinot chilling in the fridge and a new box of condoms in the bathroom cabinet.
God. His hand. His left hand. It wasn’t on her back anymore. It was on her breast. Not under her blouse or bra, just resting on top. Way more casual than his rush back to her lips.
For a few seconds, the thrill of the kiss sidetracked her, but then they went over a bump and her hard, sensitive nipple felt the pressure of his hand.
Still. His hand was still. Not squeezing, not doing much of anything. Needing more, she arched her torso.
“There we go,” he whispered. “That’s what I was waiting for.”
“Why?” she asked, seconds before he stole her ability to speak. Not just with his mouth, but the way he touched her. A slow squeeze followed by just his palm circling the tip of her nipple.
The goose bumps came back. Shivers arrived with his low groan.
She caught a peek of orange sky as they stopped, but it was a red light, not home base.
Picturing him in her minuscule apartment made her remember the dress that was hanging in her closet, still covered in plastic. She’d spent too much money on it, even though it was secondhand. But it was for a very special occasion, and as much as Cameron’s kisses had reminded her how much she wanted to have mind-boggling sex with him, it was much more important to her to have him escort her to the awards banquet.
But how could she stop this runaway train of sexual exploration? It would be horrible to put the brakes on now.
It wasn’t that she felt obligated to have sex with him, even when they were both this aroused. She wanted him. He wanted her. Ever since the