He smiled. “I volunteer to keep you warm,” he said, and she believed him, she was already hot at his touch. “There’s a little bar that I like here. I thought we could get a drink. And the best Mexican restaurant in like fifty miles is next door. How does that sound?”

It sounded great to Deja, but as he spoke, Alejandro had stepped forward, backing her against his car with her body. She groaned instead of answering.

He laughed and moved his hand under her chin, gently tilting her head farther back and her mouth closer to his.

“We can go somewhere else if you—”

“That’s fine,” Deja breathed. “Kiss me?” Her voice was a throaty, husky whine. She’d never heard herself sound like that before or asked a man to kiss her.

He licked his lips. “Gladly.”

Deja felt like she was in a whirlwind. A week ago, kissing Alejandro felt like an impossibility. Four days ago, letting him get her off in her office hadn’t even been a thought in her head. And three hours ago, imagining that this kiss could be better than their first wasn’t even in the realm of possibility, but it was.

His head dipped forward slowly. He brushed his mouth against hers gently, side to side and up and down, just letting their lips touch. And then he moved forward again, pressing his lips against hers and prying them open. He didn’t hesitate to slip his tongue into her mouth, licking inside, tasting the moan he’d pulled from her. Her free arm flew to his waist, and she pulled him forward. He smiled against her mouth, tipping her chin up a fraction of an inch more with his hand to kiss her deeper, but still soft.

She wanted this kiss to last forever, all night, but all too soon, he pulled back. He swiped at his mouth with his thumb, smearing the trace of her lipstick from his mouth before wiping it away. There was something about her makeup on him that made Deja’s blood pressure rise.

“Yeah,” Alejandro breathed as if he knew every dirty thought in her head in that moment or maybe every dirty thought she’d ever had about him. “Come on.” He pulled her gently forward by their still clasped hands and laced his fingers through hers in a tight grip.

He walked her slowly across the cobblestoned pathway toward the street, never rushing her and always with care. The entire night was like that. In the bar, he sat her at a table before grabbing their drinks. They sipped slowly and talked — steering as clear of work as possible — and he kept his hand at her back, rubbing slow circles over her spine. When their knees brushed, Deja flinched, but Alejandro simply scooted forward so his knees knocking hers every so often.