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“I can’t believe how prepared we are for an impromptu date—an evening dress, a tux, and hors d’oeuvres. It’s like we knew tonight was going to happen.”
Like magnets, their fingertips crept across the table and met in the middle. As they threaded their fingers together, the electricity that passed between them sent delicious chills through both their bodies.
“Uh-oh,” she said, her eyebrows shooting up. “We’d better be careful.”
“I don’t want to,” he murmured, squirming a little bit.
Lily’s touch, her cool, soft skin, the sound of her voice, even her smell tantalized Jason, and he was a guy who wasn’t easily tantalized.
“Well, we’d better,” she said softly. “We’ll regret it if we don’t wait at least until the second date.”
They burst out laughing. “The second date! You drive a hard bargain,” Jason said, leaning across the table to kiss her cheek. “I’d kiss you on the mouth, but I have beer and cheese breath. That wasn’t very good planning.”
“I have the same breath,” she said, holding up the bottle, and turned her face to meet his lips.
The kiss was charged with desire. For two people who hadn’t had an opportunity for romance, maybe this wasn’t the most convenient time in the middle of their senior years, but they were ready. Jason stood up, his mouth still attached to Lily’s, and he walked around the table and lifted her up off the floor, wrapping his arms around her and taking a deep breath. She felt so good against him.
Small, firm breasts pressed against his muscular chest. Her body was lean, but not athletic, and he felt round hips melding against his, an erection unmistakable. She gave a little hop and wrapped her legs around his waist, his hardness rubbing her in between the legs in just the right spot, speeding up her breath. His hands slid under her buttocks to hold her up, and it was all he could do to control himself, her full bottom in his hands driving his desire.
The coup de grace—Lily threaded her arms around his neck, running her hands through his hair, her fingertips on his scalp, electrifying.
“What are you doing?” he whispered. “Watch it.”
“I don’t want to,” she murmured, kissing him again.
“Do you want to go to the party or not?” he asked. “Because I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
She looked at his face and started to laugh. “We’d better.”
“Ugh,” he said, but he laughed, too.
She hopped down from his arms, and he didn’t even bother trying to hide his erection. They stood about a foot apart, smiling at each other, intimacy surrounding them in a cloud.
“I need to get in the shower,” he finally said, back down to earth and breaking the ice. “I was shoveling snow all day. Will you be okay out here? There’s a half bath. And the remote. I won’t be that long.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said.
He kissed her again and reluctantly turned away, leaving her standing in the middle of the living room. She heard the shower go on and, turning to the window, imagined how exciting it would be to live there. In spite of the snow, the streets were crowded with people walking to their cars after dinner or arriving at the casino. A cop car drove by slowly and pulled in front of a diner. Two officers got out, and she watched them talking, laughing as they went inside. They must be stopping for dinner, she thought, loving the urban environment.
A couple in evening wear—you could see her long gown under a bulky, down-filled coat—headed toward the casino entrance, the man holding the door above the woman’s head. They were probably going to gamble for a while before dinner and the party.
The book pile on the coffee table got her attention. Sitting on the edge of the couch, she read the titles piled neatly in rows. It looked like he read a little of everything—history especially was well represented. Next, she counted fiction books, all familiar, popular authors in one pile.
Focusing heavily on science fiction, the next pile was a combination of classics like H. G. Wells and a familiar indie author. Then classics, some vaguely familiar, some required reading in high school and undergrad.
She heard the door to the bedroom open, and he came out with his tuxedo pants and a white shirt on. “Problem! I don’t have the shoes. They must be at my mother’s house. It’s snow boots or sneakers.”
“Boots,” she said. “I’m probably going to wear my boots because I can’t walk in that slush and snow with shoes.”
“I don’t think I can dance in boots,” he said. “I can barely dance in shoes.”
“Oh, that’s a problem, then. Well, we can wear our boots and carry our shoes. If someone steals our boots, they must really need them.”
“Boots it is,” he said.
“I’ll get dressed,” she said, nodding toward his bedroom.
“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”
