Women were a weakness for Evan and he was well aware of that about himself. He knew Theia could sense it too and not just right now, but ever since they met. She knew exactly what to do to him and he would be lying if he said it wasn't working.
He was losing himself to her all over again.
"Est-ce si évident?" He teased right back. "Une belle femme comme vous pourrait affaiblir n'importe quel homme."
His eyes watched hers as she slipped off the barstool and between his legs. Instinctively his hands reached up to grab her hips, pulling her closer to him still. And the closer she got, the faster his heart thumped in his chest. Even the simplest touch of her hands upon his thighs were almost too much. How long had it been?
He waited a few moments, contemplating his next move. The seconds passed in silence, but words were beginning to fail him. There was nothing he could say that would be able to properly explain himself in an attempt to answer her question. Their relationship had rarely, if ever, involved words to describe their feelings for one another. Their actions spoke louder than any spoken words, English or French.
Finally, he dropped a hand from her hip and brought it up to cup her face. His fingers curled around the back of her neck, lacing into her dark hair as his thumb rested on her cheek. Gently he pulled her to him and closed his eyes just as his lips found the soft warmth of hers. He breathed her in when they touched, kissing her slow at first before gradually easing them into a much deeper need. There you are, he thought to himself as the world around them seemingly disappeared. It was only them and she was all he wanted.