Boi-oi-oi-oing. If he hadn’t been sprung for the last half an hour—which he had been—he certainly freaking would be right now. John might not be as smooth as some of her Maserati-driving silver foxes, but he was pretty sure she’d just asked him if he was going to take her home tonight. If he was going to sleep the night with her, then feed her in the morning to keep her strength up. John had always been a die-hard fan of morning sex, but casual hookups in his world were generally done in the dark of the witching hour, the heat vampirically turning to dust in the morning light.

But with Mary? Gah—yeah. He’d morning sex her until they had to sleep again. Until there was nothing to do but hurriedly slug back coffee and orange juice and bagels on the way to work, and send her on her way with the memory of him between her legs.

Her question lingered between them.

“Couldn’t let you go hungry.”

Her eyes darkened further, her tongue wetting her lips. He followed the movement with his eyes, and without him telling it to, his hand was now a full inch and a half under the hem of her dress.

Her eyes were on his mouth, he was sure of it.

“I’d make sure you were taken care of, Mary,” he told her.

She swallowed and made a small sound that he barely heard over the shouting crowd all around them. Under the bar, her ankle hooked around his and John figured it might be time to leave. There was savoring a moment, and then there was letting it pass by. He was not letting Mary pass him by, not when she had two fingers teasing the inside of his wrist and her sunny hair trapped between their bodies.

Because he was a good friend, or maybe because he really was tired, Richie suddenly yawned and threw some cash on the bar. “I’m gonna head out. Beth, want a walking buddy to the train?”

Beth and Richie quickly waved goodbye and disappeared through the crowd. Now it was just John and Mary all alone in this crowded, pulsing bar. There was an empty barstool where Beth had just been sitting, and Mary slid down, off the one she was sharing with John. But she didn’t step away from him. Instead she turned in the circle of his arms and pushed herself into him, her soft breasts pressing into his chest, the tips of her hair tickling the forearm he had barred against her lower back.

“Wanna be my walking buddy?” she asked, her head tipped up to his, her eyes on his lips.