Chapter 177
**Sara**
Throughout dinner, Tom kept his hands (mostly) to himself, though his eyes told a different story. Every time I licked my lips or twirled pasta around my fork, his gaze darkened with promises that had nothing to do with being gentlemanly.
When we finally stepped out into the cool evening air, Tom adjusted his tie with a smug expression. "See? Perfect gentleman, just as promised."
"You played footsie with me through the entire main course."
"That was purely accidental contact."
"Your hand 'accidentally' ended up on my thigh during dessert?"
"I was reaching for my napkin." His innocent expression wouldn't have fooled a blind nun.
"The napkin that was on the table? Next to your plate?" I poked his chest. "You reached right past it to grab my thigh."
"I was testing my depth perception." His fingers caught mine, pulling me closer. "Besides, a true gentleman always ensures his date is... comfortable."
"Oh really?" I arched an eyebrow. "Is that what they teach in Gentleman School? Advanced Thigh-Grabbing 101?"
"It was an elective." His thumb traced circles on my palm. "Along with Suggestive Eyebrow Raises and Strategic Napkin Dropping."
"Must have missed the class on Self-Control."
"That was scheduled for the same time as Advanced Seduction Techniques." His free hand slid around my waist. "Had to make choices."
I tried to maintain my stern expression, but his ridiculous grin made it impossible. "You're terrible at this gentleman act."
"Act? I'm the perfect gentleman. I pulled out your chair-"
"After staring at my ass."
"-ordered an excellent wine-"
"Which you used as an excuse to whisper absolutely ungentlemanly things in my ear."
"-and I even waited until dessert to play footsie."
"Such restraint. Truly, you're a paragon of virtue." I tried not to smile at his ridiculous attempts to defend his behavior.
"I am." He tugged me closer, his breath warm against my ear. "Would you like me to demonstrate my gentlemanly qualities somewhere more private?"
"Let me guess - your demonstration involves significantly less clothing?"
"A gentleman never reveals his plans." His teeth grazed my earlobe. "But yes, absolutely none."
Heat pooled in my belly at his touch. "You're the worst gentleman ever."
"Mmm." His lips traced down my neck. "But you love it."
"God help me, I do." I threaded my fingers through his hair. "Your father would probably have a heart attack if he knew how ungentlemanly his perfect son could be."
Tom's hands tightened on my hips. "Please don't mention my father when I'm trying to seduce you."
"Trying?" I laughed. "Is that what this is?"
"Would you prefer a more direct approach?" His fingers slipped under the hem of my t-shirt.
"Tom!" I grabbed his wrist. "We're still on the street!"
"See? Perfect gentleman. I waited until we were out of the restaurant."
"You're still groping me in public," I hissed, yet leaned into his touch. "What happened to that perfect gentleman act?"
"Shit." Tom's hands retreated, and he glanced around the street like he remembered where we were. A couple walking their dog gave us disapproving looks as they passed. "I keep forgetting we're not in private."
"Clearly." I straightened my shirt where his wandering hands had bunched it up. "You know, for someone so worried about maintaining his professional image, you sure have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself in public."
"Can you blame me?" His eyes raked over me in a way that made my skin tingle. "Have you seen yourself?"
"Flattery will not excuse public indecency."
"Then perhaps we should move this somewhere more... decent?" His voice dropped to that sinful whisper that melted my insides. "My place is only ten minutes away."
"Mmm." I pretended to consider it, even though we both knew where this night was heading. "I don't know. You haven't proven yourself trustworthy with the whole 'keeping hands to yourself' thing."
"I promise to be on my worst behavior once we're behind closed doors."
"Is that supposed to convince me?"
"Is it working?" His teeth grazed my ear, making me shiver.
I pushed at his chest, but not hard enough to actually move away. "What happened to that distinguished professor everyone respects so much?"
"He's currently being driven mad by a student who keeps biting her lip like that."
I released my lower lip immediately, not even realizing I'd been nibbling it. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"No?" His thumb brushed across my mouth. "So you weren't just thinking about that time in the shower when I-"
"Tom!" I clapped my hand over his mouth, glancing around frantically. An elderly couple walked past, giving us disapproving looks. "Public. Street. Remember?"
He kissed my palm before pulling my hand away. "Then stop looking so damn tempting, and let me get us somewhere private."
"I'm literally just standing here."
"Exactly." His eyes darkened. "It's very distracting."
"My existence is distracting?"
"Incredibly." He pulled me closer, his cologne wrapping around me like a sensual fog. "Especially when you're wearing those jeans that make your ass look-"
"Okay!" I grabbed his hand, tugging him toward where his car was parked. "Time to go. Before you get us arrested for public indecency."
"Worth it," he muttered but followed my lead.
"I'm pretty sure 'arrested for groping student on public sidewalk' wouldn't look great on your tenure application."
"True." His hand slipped into my back pocket. "But think of the stories we could tell our grandkids."
"Our what now?"
"I meant- that's not-" For once, the smooth-talking professor was at a loss for words. His face flushed red. "It was a joke?"
I bit back a laugh at his flustered expression. "Already planning our future offspring's offspring, are we?"
"Can we go back to the public groping? That was less terrifying."
"Nope." I grinned, enjoying his discomfort. "Tell me more about these hypothetical grandchildren. Should I start knitting tiny booties?"
"I didn't mean- It was just-" Tom ran his hand through his hair, a nervous tick I'd come to find adorable. "Can we pretend I didn't say that?"
"Not a chance," I poked his chest. "I want to hear all about these grandkids. How many are we talking about? Should I be pricing out minivans?"
His face turned an even deeper shade of red. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"Oh, absolutely." I looped my arms around his neck. "The great Thomas Blackwood, reduced to stammering by the mention of babies."
"I didn't mean to," Tom's voice trailed off as my fingers played with the hair at his nape. "You're distracting me on purpose."
"From the grandkids conversation? Absolutely." I pressed closer, enjoying how his breath hitched. "It's hot that you're thinking that far ahead."
His hands tightened on my hips. "Can we please focus on the present?"
"The present where you're imagining our future offspring?" I couldn't resist teasing him. His confidence had cracked, revealing an adorably flustered side I rarely saw.
"The present where we're still on this damn sidewalk instead of in my bed." His thumb slipped under my t-shirt, tracing circles on my skin.
"Smooth deflection." I nipped at his jaw. "But I'm not letting this go. How many grandkids were you picturing? Five? Ten?"
"Sara..." The warning in his voice sent heat pooling low in my belly.
"What would we name them? Little Tommy Junior? Or maybe-"
His mouth crashed into mine, cutting off my teasing. His kiss was hungry, desperate like he was trying to physically stop the words from coming out. I melted against him, forgetting all about teasing as his tongue swept into my mouth.
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