“You and me both.” Johnny didn’t get his wish, only because his emotions gave her a moment’s warning of mild mischief, and she laughed up at him from the nadir of the dip. “Oh, do that again!”
He grinned devilishly, and dipped her again, before bringing her back up hard against his chest. He heard the air rush out of her and suddenly was just centimetres away from her face, looking intently into her eyes.
“Like that?” he asked in a husky voice.
Close. Oh god, so close, too close. Summer sucked in a few shallow breaths, eyes fixed to his, and tried to find her voice again. “Yes,” she whispered, and squashed a mad desire to close that narrow space.
This wasn’t going to last. Johnny Storm was a flirt even more notorious, if that was possible, than Tony Stark. He was just playing until someone better caught his eye, and then she’d be picking herself up off the floor.
She bit her lip, and tried, hopelessly, to look demure. “You’re very good at this, Mr Storm.”