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“Flames! I’m on fucking fire?!!”
I bend over, and the wind throws my dress up over my head, but I swat wildly at the ember with my purse as it burns a hole through his pants. “Oh my god. Oh my god. Stop freaking moving.”
He stops. “Your ass is spectacular, side note. Now, put the fucking fire out.”
I’m hitting his leg. “Stop squirming.” My ass is freezing as I’m on display for everyone on 7th Avenue. I smash my hand against his Achilles. He holds my dress down, but I can feel the panic in his hands as I swat my purse at his leg.
“STOP GRINDING A LIT CIGARETTE INTO MY FUCKING ANKLE.” I’m laughing and hitting. “Jesus. Is it out?” It’s just smoking now, and I pick it out of his pants and toss it away from us.
“It’s out. Shit. Are you ok?” I pop up into his face and rearrange my dress and coat.
He throws his hands in the air. “I’m totally cool.” His face is all screwed up. “I was on fucking fire, what do you think?”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
He bends down, pulls his pant leg around, and examines the burnt hole. Then lifts his pant leg and tries to see. There’s a small burn. I can smell the burnt hair. “Is it bad?” I shake my head. “I mean, do we need to go to urgent care?” he asks earnestly, and I cannot believe this.
“That’s my dream date. Swoon.” I put the back of my hand to my forehead.
“Seriously, Sabrina, can you look?” Oh my god, he’s one of those men who can’t handle a common cold. I grin at him. I’ll continue teasing him later. I bend down holding my dress down, and lift his pant leg to examine. It’s a small slightly red mark. I lean to his calf, lick the “burn”, then kiss it gently. Then begin to slowly kiss it again as sensually as I can. He starts laughing, then smacks my ass. I stumble forward but catch myself.
“Ok, funny girl. And fuck me with the thigh highs. Jesus you’re insanely sexy even with that hell of bruise blooming on your thigh. Is that from the hardware store?”
“My ass was exposed to the world, and you’re worried about a bruise, that’s both sweet and disappointing. I thought my ass was—”
He interrupts with a desperate fevered kiss and squeezes my ass intensely.
“Your ass is fucking everything. But if we’re going to get through dinner, I need to focus on something other than those peaches and cream cheeks and that small scarlet lace strip separating me from what I imagine is the most perfect pussy ever.“
I gasp. “That’s better. Was anything else injured in the fire? I can kiss it better.”
He grabs me closer and my breath catches. “I have other aching parts, but first we grab my credit card, get back here and eat. Then, I will eat you. But the burn fucking hurts.”
My whole body lights up. “Really?”
I put my hand on his chest and smirk at him. Then he’s on my lips before I can say anything else.
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17
OceanofPDF.com
PATRICK
This woman, taking the piss out of me. She says, as we begin to walk, “Did you just kiss me so I’d stop teasing you.”
“Perhaps. Did it work?”
“For now. But we’ll need to hurry if we’re going to make your appointment at the burn unit.” I walk towards the restaurant, but she doesn’t stop mocking. “Let’s pop into CVS and grab gauze and maybe book some time in a hyperbaric chamber. You’ll be good as new.”
She hugs me and wiggles under my arm. I pretend to ignore her.
She keeps talking, “We got this. I’ll be right by your side during the skin graft.” I burst into laughter and try not to look at her. She continues, “I’m going nowhere during this tragedy. For better or worse.” There’s a zing through my nervous system, and my spine stiffens for a moment. I try to relax without her noticing.
There’s an awkward silence for the first time. Those were jarring words. I just met this woman. Slow your roll, Sabrina. I exhale, and she sighs. This sucks. We walk in silence, and she loosens her grip on my waist and attempts to step away from me. As she does, a rush of cold air surges and touches the exact spot she’s left. I pull her back to my side and kiss the top of her head. That’s odd. That was a reflex. I don’t want her to be anywhere but close. I have a touch of whiplash as I try to figure out what it all means. I don’t need anyone in my life except my brothers. That’s the way I’m designed, but this mysterious little minx has my head reeling. Who else does she tease? Who else has she run away with? I want a list, then I want some time to hunt those men down. Your turn, Patrick—time to slow your roll.
I wrap my left arm around her and hold her close. We walk lopsided down the street to the sound of her crooked heel and a scrap of my glove still attached to it.
