“This is good,” he told her.
She gave him a slow blink. “You like wine?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“You strike me as a beer-from-the-can kind of guy.”
“I am.”
”

“This is good,” he told her.
She gave him a slow blink. “You like wine?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“You strike me as a beer-from-the-can kind of guy.”
“I am.”
”

“This is good,” he told her.
She gave him a slow blink. “You like wine?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“You strike me as a beer-from-the-can kind of guy.”
“I am.”
”

“He drew in an answering breath, and she waited to hear the quip, the joke, the dab of levity for the most intense moment they’d ever shared. But he only dropped his head into the crook of her neck and laid his mouth over her leaping pulse as they found their unhurried rhythm in the dark.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He sent her a wink, a devilish one, the same one he no doubt used to sear the panties off his dates.”