Nicolas straightened in his seat. His body went rigid with anticipation. "Tell me," he said.
Vanessa didn't answer with words.
Instead, she pushed her chair closer, the legs scraping softly against the floor. The movement brought her body inches from his. She reached out, her fingers finding his knee beneath the table. She squeezed gently, her touch lingering.
Nicolas's breath hitched.
Vanessa's hand slid slowly up his thigh, her long nails grazing the fabric of his trousers. She watched his face, enjoying the way his jaw slackened, the way his eyes darkened.
She leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of his ear. Her breath was warm, sweet with wine. "Not so easily," she whispered, her voice a velvet caress. "You'll have to convince me."
Her hand continued its lazy climb, her fingers tracing circles over his inner thigh. She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her gaze hungry and amused.
