Page 45 of Ten Day Affair

“I mean, you surprise me. In a good way. I've enjoyed getting to know my new, temporary neighbor.”

I sip my wine. “Okay. Thank you, I think.”

Her smile is tired. “It's a compliment.”

I nod once, slowly. “Want to sit outside?”

She lifts a brow. “Is that code?”

She smirks, sipping her wine.

“For fresh air,” I say, casually enough. But my mind’s already gone off the rails with the possibilities. The last time we were together under the stars on her patio, things couldn't have gone better.

She stands and grabs her glass. “Lead the way.”

I open the sliding door, letting the warm night spill into the room. She steps past me, and I catch the sway of her hips, the soft brush of her arm. The dress skims her thighsas she moves. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her bare legs and bare shoulders.

Jesus.

The pull is immediate and low. A punch to the gut kind of desire that tightens everything.

I follow her out, trying not to look as affected as I feel.

The patio’s quiet, wrapped in moonlight and salt air. Waves roll just beyond the dunes. She takes the chair to my right, sitting sideways, one leg tucked beneath her, the other bare and stretched toward me.

The dress slips slightly off one shoulder. She doesn’t fix it, but I know she knows.

“You are a great cook. I know I keep saying it, but that steak was perfection.”

I nod, sipping my drink. “I don’t do it often, but when I do, I go all in.”

“Of course you do. I should’ve known you’d be an all-or-nothing type.”

I tip my head toward her. “Something like that.”

“I’m observant. I’ve got you all figured out.”

I let out a low laugh. “Is that so? You're impressive, Dr. Samantha Taylor.”

“You’re the neighbor who shows up with gourmet food and top-shelf liquor. You set the bar high.”

Her eyes stay on mine long enough for the heat to settle between us. Whatever this is, it's slow, sure, and deliberate.

She shifts in her chair, her knee brushing mine. No apology. No excuse. Just that quiet signal.

“I should go,” she says, but her voice has no conviction.

I lean in just slightly, close enough to feel her breath catch.

“You should,” I murmur, trying to be supportive, hoping I'm right that she won't.

Sam doesn’t move away. Her gaze flicks to my mouth,and that’s it. That’s the moment. I lean in, slow and unhurried, letting her stop me if she wants to.

She doesn’t.

Her lips meet mine, soft and full of intent. The kiss starts slow, exploratory, but it deepens fast. My hand slides around her waist, her fingers thread into my shirt.

God, she tastes like wine and some kind of surrender. My mouth waters, and my dick hardens.