That Bit Extra — Continuation of Adam's Autumn Special... (Patreon)

It’s a while after I’m halfway into my second glass before I realise Adam’s gaze is burning against my skin. Not in a bad way, but still an intense kind of way that feels he can see into my thoughts. And considering how wholly my thoughts are consumed by him, that might not be the best thing.

“Something wrong?” I ask, rolling my head to one side to meet his gaze.

He snaps it away almost immediately. “No. Nothing.”

“It must have been something,” I state with a chuckle, the wine’s effects beginning to add a lightness to my words. “You don’t usually look at me for more than a millisecond if you can help it.” And apparently making me slightly too honest as well…

“I think you’d be surprised to find your assessment on that quite wrong, Detective,” he murmurs.

I lift a brow. “Oh? Does that mean you stare at me often then?”

He looks aghast at my words, his eyes wide and his mouth falling open.

I can’t help but hunch forward into a laugh, only just catching myself before droplets of wine slosh out of my glass onto the blanket and Nate’s very expensive rug beneath.

“Don’t worry, Adam. I was only joking,” I explain.

He relaxes, even offering a small smile and a shake of his head. “I should have warned you of the potency of this vintage.”

“I can handle my wine, Commanding Agent,” I say, lifting the glass to my lips and letting myself drown in the wonderful scent of it.

“If only I were able to handle you…” His murmured words almost have me choking on my drink. 

I ease closer across the blanket with a slight frown. “What was that?”

He takes a gulp of his own wine. “Nothing.”

“No, you definitely—”

“I fear the wine is affecting your hearing.”

“'I fear'—Do you ever interact like a normal human being?” I splutter.

He arches a blond brow at me. “Would you like to rethink that question?”

I groan. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do,” he states dryly. “And no. I act as myself. Do you find that so unappealing?”

There’s a crackle popping in the air around us that for a while I think is the fire…until I realise the flames died down a while ago. So I’m not sure where the simmering heat is still coming from either, the temperature spiking as I lean so close I can feel his breath shudder across my face at the proximity.

“Unappealing? Is that what you think?” I ask.

I tilt my head slightly as—instead of an angered rebuttal or snide comment—he smiles at me. Softly. 

My heart feels as though it might explode in my chest.

“It’s what I hope,” he replies in a hushed whisper, meeting my gaze directly and holding it.

My breath stammers.

My throat goes dry.

And my whole body is filled with a need to feel his lips on mine.

I raise my fingers to touch them…he doesn’t pull away.

They’re soft, warm, and so much the opposite of unappealing.

“Why do you want me to find you unappealing?” I ask, flicking my focus back to the wonderful green of his eyes.

He gently wraps his fingers around my hand and drags it away and into my lap. “Because I could not trust myself around you were you to think otherwise, Detective.” 

Without another word, he stands with ease, offers a nod of goodbye, and heads out of the room.

And I’m left staring at the space he’d just been, half-hoping my hangover will help me forget this ever happened.