She took a shaky breath to quell that need and instead smelled him, smelled his masculine scent beneath the light, and probably very expensive, cologne. Her nipples tightened in response and she shifted a bit on the bench. That brought her breast against the muscled wall of his chest.
As her gaze skipped across his for a moment, it was impossible to miss that he was as affected as she was.
He had draped his arm across her shoulder, but as she leaned forward, he dropped his hand until he could dip beneath her arm and cradle the side of her breast. She shook as she imagined him moving his hand just a little more to touch her tight nipple. Instead, he just brushed his hand back and forth tenderly, almost pleading for her touch as well.
She moved her hand on his thigh, a slow caress as they sat silent as the waiter prepared the salad. Their attention was barely on the man’s actions as with one light stroke after another, desire grew between them.
After the waiter placed their salad plates before them, Gregori moved his arm, bringing instant regret, but she kept her hand on his thigh, stroking. Loving the feel of the hard, tight muscles beneath her hand and the slight tremble in his body.
The salad might have been excellent, but she was so caught up in the feel and smell of him, in the want that he roused, that it was tasteless as she ate it.
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