Page 43 of Flirty Fall Fling

Um, hi. Found this number next to George Washington’s head.

I catch my reflection in the glass of the balcony doors, and I almost don’t recognize myself.

The reply comes back in under a minute.

Jamie

Best dollar I’ve ever given away.

Blaire

Want to come over?

Jamie

I’ll never say no.

Blaire

Back door. Midnight. Park two streets away and don’t be early.

Jamie

Understood. Should I bring anything?

Blaire

You. Just you.

Jamie

Can do.

I toss the phone onto the quilt and jump in the shower. I slide on my black silk robe and nothing else. Charlie sits in my window with his tail hanging, but he’s supervising.

“Don’t start,” I say.

He also doesn’t run away, which means he’s interested in what I’m doing.

At 11:58 p.m., I sneak downstairs and look through the window over the sink. I can make out a tall figure coming up the back street sidewalk. When he’s close, I open the door.

Cold air pours in around him, but I don’t give a damn.

Not a word is exchanged. His lips crash against mine as he steps forward. I get lost in his kiss, almost moaning.

When we push apart, I place my finger over my mouth, then lead him upstairs by the hand. A few of them squeak, and I stop walking, listening for noise.

When we’re in my room, I press him against the door to kiss him.

“What’s the rush?” he whispers, lifting my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

“I don’t have all night,” I admit, pushing my robe off my shoulders, allowing it to pool at my feet.

His eyes slide down my body and back up again. Then I’m nearly ripping his clothes off of him. First goes his jacket and the shirt under it.

My mouth falls open when I see tattoos across his chest and back. I slide my mouth down his throat and press kisses across his chest, memorizing his athlete’s body that lives under those nice clothes. He is built from a lifetime on the ice, and every inch of him freezes under my touch. When I drag my nails down his stomach, a low growl releases from his throat. It only encourages me to keep going. He barely says a word.

I loosen his belt and unbutton his jeans as he walks me backward toward my bed. I barely come up for air, lost in his mouth, his touch, him.