Accept.

You take him up on his offer. It's much better than trying to find a taxi home at this hour. He leads you to his nice BMW parked on the top deck of the parking garage adjacent to the bar. The stars are bright, the weather is perfect, and the small plantings and trees dotted around the roof make it a surprisingly pleasant space. He opens the car door for you and you sit on the low seat, your dress riding up scandalously high. Pierre definitely saw the tops of your stockings, and he may have even seen your lacy underwear. He definitely looks, but somehow from him it's not a leer. He drives you back home without incident, making pleasant small talk as he does, and it's really quite comfortable, aside from the still palpable sexual tension.

You arrive in front on the house and he pulls into the driveway. He stops the car and the dome light comes on, letting you make out his handsome features and soft green eyes. You say goodbye, thanking him for a wonderful time, and lean it to kiss him on the cheek, but as you do he turns and your lips meet. He pulls your face towards his, kissing you deeply. You feel yourself go breathless once more and start to tip towards him. You try to catch yourself with a hand on his leg, except you feel something unmistakably hard under your hand as it presses on his thigh.