The car smelled like cedar and peppermint gum, and the driver had the kind of voice that made a woman forget where she was going.
“Big night?” Marcus asked, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes were warm brown, crinkled at the corners like he laughed easily and often.
“First date,” Claire said. She smoothed the hem of her green dress over her knees. “App date. He likes hiking and ‘good conversation.’ I already know I’m going to be bored.”
He laughed, low and genuine. “You don’t know that.”
“I know I’ve been looking at your hands on that wheel for six blocks and thinking about things that aren’t hiking.”
The car slowed at a red light. Marcus turned his head, just slightly, and she saw the smile he was trying not to give her. “Ma’am, I’m going to need you to say that again so I know I heard it right.”
“You heard it right.” Her pulse was loud in her ears. She had never said anything like that to a stranger in her life, and she liked how it felt in her mouth. “I’m twelve minutes early. There’s a parking garage behind the restaurant.”
The light turned green. He didn’t answer, but he signaled left instead of right, and Claire felt the answer settle low in her belly.
The garage was half empty, the top level open to a purple dusk. He parked in the far corner by the concrete wall, killed the engine, and turned all the way around in his seat.
“Tell me to drive you to dinner,” he said quietly, “and I’ll drive you to dinner. No hard feelings, still five stars.”
“Get back here,” she said.
He did. The back seat had felt roomy a minute ago; with him in it, it felt like the world shrank to the width of his shoulders. He cupped her jaw with one big hand and kissed her slowly at first, tasting of peppermint, then deeper when she grabbed his shirt and pulled. She could feel him smiling against her mouth.
“You sure?” he murmured.
“Marcus.” She took his hand and put it on her thigh, under the green dress. “I’m very sure.”
His palm slid higher, warm and unhurried, and she arched into it. When he found her already wanting him, he let out a rough breath against her neck that made her shiver all the way down. She fumbled with his belt, laughing at herself, and he helped, and then she was climbing into his lap with her knees sinking into the leather.
She went still for one long second when she sank down onto him, eyes wide, her forehead pressed to his. He was so much more than she was used to. Full, stretched, and perfect.
“Breathe,” he whispered, thumbs stroking her hips. “We’ve got time.”
“We’ve got eleven minutes,” she gasped, and started to move.
It was not slow after that. The windows fogged at the edges. His hands guided her, then held on as she found the rhythm she wanted, and every time she came down he met her with a low groan she felt in her teeth. She bit his shoulder through his shirt to keep quiet and failed completely. When she came, it rolled through her hard and bright, her fingers knotted in his collar, his name breaking out of her like she’d known it for years. He followed a moment later, holding her tight against his chest, breathing like he’d run up all six levels.
For a minute they just stayed there, his heartbeat thudding under her cheek.
“Well,” he said finally. “That’s a new one for the ratings.”
She laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes. Then she found her compact, fixed her lipstick, and tugged the green dress back into place while he watched her like it was the best show in town.
He drove her the last two hundred feet to the restaurant’s front door. She was exactly on time.
“Hope he’s good conversation,” Marcus said as she climbed out.
Claire leaned down to the open window, cheeks still flushed. “He’ll have to be. But I think I already had the best part of my night.”
She gave him five stars before she even reached the hostess stand. In the comments she wrote only: Excellent route.
