He breaks away with a soft, panting groan - reluctant and very clearly effected - he shifts back against his seat.

After another hard swallow of wine, he manages to look back at her, flushing hot and still feeling her lips against his and the small metal zipper he'd barely clasped between his fingers.

What was that about, Gus? Right there at the table?

"We, uh... we should..." he stammers, looking away again.