A wild card night, p.4
A Wild Card Night,
p.4
He’s the opposite of my dating life.
Interesting, confident, entertaining—he’s a bright, shining star in a dimly lit night sky.
Hot sex with a handsome stranger who’s hardly a stranger?
Yes, please.
The man’s hands are masterful. Long, strong fingers stroke me, teasing at my clit, rubbing in tantalizing circles.
Ohhhhh.
So good.
Yesssss.
I don’t have to help things along with a finger on the pink button. This man knows his way around my body. Everything he’s doing is just right—so right that I’m vibrating with pleasure.
I grab hold of his arms, clasping his big biceps. “I’m so close,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut as his fingers fly.
A shudder speeds through my body on a breakaway sprint. My orgasm has a mind of its own, building strength, intensity, then . . . exploding in one delicious, mind-bending frenzy of bliss.
I cry out, but before more words escape, his lips are on mine. He swallows my cries, keeping me quiet as he kisses me through the wild spread of pleasure.
As my orgasm ebbs, I open my eyes, woozy and sex drunk, then meet his gaze.
He’s smiling, looking satisfied and happy.
Harlan drops another kiss to my lips, all soft and sweet. “Thank you for giving me the best fifteen minutes I’ve had in ages.”
I grab my lip gloss and reapply it. “Those fifteen minutes were pretty darn good for me too.”
Harlan walks me to the hotel lobby, standing outside with me while I wait for my Lyft.
We’re quiet until he reaches for my hand. “I can’t wait to see you again. I want you to know how much I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
The feeling is so very mutual. Sure, Harlan’s a playboy, if I believe the media and gossip blogs. And yes, I’ve seen pics of him with beautiful women. But I’m not bothered. Why wouldn’t he enjoy the perks of his fame? A gorgeous, talented pro athlete beloved by the city? He’s not hurting for offers from the fairer sex.
Good for him.
And now, good for me. I can handle whatever this is, whether it’s a date or a prelude to sex.
“Me too,” I say.
Though, a tiny part of me is curious if he’d be interested in more. Maybe another date, maybe seeing what comes of it?
A pang in my heart is hungry for a little something more.
I wince.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Legitimate concern imbues his tone.
It’s so real, so tender, and I like it so much. Perhaps he also feels all this yummy possibility.
“Nothing,” I say with a smile. “Just had a good time tonight.”
“Me too,” he says, grinning back, then he brings me close again, tucks my hair around my ear. “I mean that. And I truly do want to see you again. We’re going to have a great time.”
“We are absolutely going to.”
A red Nissan pulls up. As I check the plates, Harlan says, “Give me your number.”
Quickly, we exchange digits, and then he kisses me goodnight, and puts me in the car. The driver pulls away. Already, I miss Harlan.
I don’t have room in my life for more, and yet I just might want it.
As the driver pulls onto 19th Avenue, making his way to the airport, my phone beeps.
I expect it to be my sister. But it’s Harlan.
Harlan: Call me crazy, but that was the best unexpected first date I’ve had in ages.
It’s like he can read my mind.
Katie: Me too.
* * *
Harlan: Also, I have your lip gloss. You left it behind. And it’s in a glass tube. Fitting, Cinderella.
I grin like an idiot.
Katie: Tonight was kind of like a dirty fairy tale.
* * *
Harlan: It sure was, sweetheart. Let’s turn those pages some more.
I can’t get Harlan out of my mind, but I have to the next day when my sister and I meet with a potential business partner about our yoga studio and the new style of classes that we’ve brainstormed.
It’s an incredible meeting, and now I’m feeling all kinds of fairy-tale-ish—in business and in romance.
Everything seems possible.
7
Harlan
The best night ever is followed by a great weekend.
Texting with Katie.
Flirting with Katie.
Winning a football game.
Making plans for Tuesday.
I’m not in the market for a relationship, but there was something about her that was impossible to ignore. A spark. A possibility.
A connection I want to explore.
I haven’t felt this in a long time with anyone.
When I leave the field on Sunday and head home, I’m ready to crash, but I send her a text first.
Harlan: Still can’t wait to see you.
An hour later, she replies.
Katie: I can’t wait to see you too. But I can’t make our date this Tuesday. The business partner wants to fly us both to Los Angeles to look at possible studio space there. She loved the classes that we’ve planned.
* * *
Harlan: That’s fantastic news! And no worries, sweetheart. You let me know when you can reschedule.
* * *
Katie: I promise, sexy man. I need that lip gloss. Need you to mess it up for me.
* * *
Harlan: And I will. We’ll have that double scoop of Sexual Tension Swirl and Swoon.
* * *
Katie: *licks lips in anticipation*
A couple nights later, another text lands on my phone.
Katie: Sooooo . . . the business partner made us a crazy amazing offer . . . the kind of offer that sweeps every other plan off the drawing board. This is last minute, but I’m moving to LA. This weekend. Raincheck sometime?
Whoa.
Harlan: Moving moving? As in moving to LA . . . now?
But even as I send the text, I know the answer. She’s made it clear, although I still can’t quite believe it.
Katie: Yes! I’m excited, but I’ll miss our date, and you. We have to do a raincheck.
My shoulders sag, and I sigh. The sad kind. But what can you do?
Harlan: Definitely.
I don’t hear from her again, but that’s okay. It was one night. I don’t text her, either, because there’s no point. Nor does she text me. But I hear from Jones and Jillian that she’s happy in Los Angeles, building her yoga empire with her sister.
So it goes. Sometimes you have one perfect night, and that’s all.
And sometimes you meet again more than seven years later.
The next time I see Katie, I’m a single dad with a six-year-old daughter, and it’s Katie’s wedding day.
Katie and Harlan’s romance continues in the full-length novel A Wild Card Kiss! Get it everywhere!
* * *
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