Page 25 of Flirting with the Scrooge

Suddenly, a lamp flickers to life, illuminating the entire room. No longer are we shrouded by the soft glow of the fireplace. And I’m naked. So much nakedness. And pressed up against Connor. Our little sex bubble bursts into a million tiny pieces.

His hands freeze. “Looks like the power’s back on.”

“It is. I suppose I should…” I rise off the couch, attempting to be as graceful as I can while not wearing any clothes.

“Get home?”

Not meeting his gaze, I continue searching for my underwear that’s somewhere on the floor. “I was going to say find my clothes, but yeah, I should probably get home too.” Where is my underwear? Did a gremlin come and steal them? When I spot a piece of black fabric behind an end table, I grab it and say a silent prayer that it’s what I’m searching for. Thankfully, it is. I step into the leg holes and shimmy them up.

“I wasn’t saying you had to. It was more of a question.” He finds his jeans and pulls them up but doesn’t button them. That shouldn’t be so hot, but it is.

“No. No. I should probably make sure everything is okay at home.” I yank my bra off the lampshade and hook the latch in the back.

“Let me walk you home, at least.” He bends down and yanks his shirt off the floor on the other side of the room and tugs it over his head.

“It’s okay. It’s only across the street. I can make it.” I point out the window to my house as if he doesn’t know where I live.

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“Yeah. Then you’d have to get dressed. Don’t worry about it.” I wave him off but don’t realize he’s stepped closer and my hand smacks his chest. “Shit. Sorry. I’m just going to go.” I don’t need to make this anymore awkward than it already is. Rushing to the door, I slide my feet into my boots, then pull my coat out of the closet and throw it over my shoulders. “Thanks for… everything. I’ll see you… around.”

He chuckles. “Yeah. See you around.”

I yank open the door and step outside, a blast of arctic wind cools my heated face. Closing the door behind me, I pause and rest my back against the wood. That was awkward as fuck. Chalk it up to the worst walk of shame ever. Probably the worst in history. The porch light flicks to life and I tilt my head up. Then suddenly my back is no longer pressed against the door and I’m stumbling backward. I pinch my eyes shut, preparing for impact, but it never happens. Instead, a pair of strong hands grip under my arms, stopping me before I hit the ground.

Slowly, I crack one eye to find a pair of whiskey colored eyes staring back at me. “Hi. Again.”

“Hi.” A sexy smirk plays on his lips.

“I guess we get to see each other sooner rather than later.”

“I guess so.” He lifts me so I’m standing on my own. “You forgot this.” He holds up my t-shirt.

I peek down the front of my coat and only see a lace bra. Well, shit. I pluck it from his grasp. “Thanks. I’m going to go throw myself in the snowbank over there,” I hike my thumb behind me, “and pray this is all a bad dream.” Without a second glance back, I race down the snow covered stairs, down his driveway, and across the street to my front door. It’s only then I spare a glance back. He’s propped against the doorjamb, watching me. Offering a small wave, I push open my door and step inside. I close it behind me and exhale a sigh of relief. I can’t believe that happened. All of it. I press my fingers to my still swollen lips. A part of me is itching to go back over there and cut the power so we can do it all over again. Except I’ll make sure to have a more graceful exit. I groan and push off the door.

Strolling through my house, I shut off all the lights that came on when the power was restored and make my way to my bedroom. Throwing myself onto my bed, I stare at the dark ceiling. I don’t remember the last time I had sex like that. Rough, wild, and spontaneous. The ache between my legs is proof of that. I unbutton my pants and pull them over my hips. Tiny Connor size fingerprint bruises dot my hip. My teeth sink into my bottom lip, so my smile doesn’t widen into a full fledge grin. Screw it. I deserve to smile. The sex was ah-maz-ing. His kisses were soft, but then he fucked me like… a rock star. Maybe that’s it. He put some voodoo curse on me while he was playing the song like a subliminal message.

Kiss me. Take off my clothes. Ride my cock.

It was sweet and tender, but then he took control, and it became raw and carnal. He let it be known the pleasure was mine for the taking. And boy, did I take it. I wanted it so much.

Needing some sleep, I rise out of bed and strip out of my clothes and throw on my pajamas. I crawl under the covers, but the night plays on repeat in my head. Eventually, I fall into a restless sleep filled with sweet dreams of Connor.

* * *

The following day, I finish cleaning up after dinner and pour myself a glass of wine. I haven’t spoken to Connor all day. I saw him leave in his truck, but he didn’t even spare a glance my way, not that I was watching. Okay, I was totally watching. But why didn’t he look? That only tells me one thing… he regrets it. Everything. It was all a huge mistake.

Olivia’s SUV pulls into my driveway. Before she can fully step through my front door, I blurt out, “I slept with Connor.”

She halts in her tracks. “Repeat that. I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”

“I slept with Connor.” Lifting my glass to my lips, I fill my cheeks with wine like a chipmunk to avoid answering any further questions.

She drops a box to the floor. “Shut the front door! You slept with your ridiculously hot neighbor, who you claimed to hate?”

"I wouldn’t say hate, per se.” I flip my wrist in front of me. “Maybe strong dislike. More annoyed at times. But now I don’t know what to do.”

“How was it? Good?” She wiggles her eyebrows while a Cheshire grin covers her face.

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