Page 45 of 5 Golden Flings

Alice came back around the corner into the living room. Her coat, hat and gloves were gone. She was barefoot, wearing only a nice fitting pair of black slacks and a deep v-cut black sweater that clung to every curve God gave her.

It made Foster wish he’d met her in the summer when that incredible body wasn’t constantly wrapped up in layers for warmth. She approached him with a glass of red wine in each hand and a smile on her face.

“...to...” he continued.

“To what?” Alice asked, handing him a glass. She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes and thick lashes. With her free hand, she tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind her ear and awaited his answer.

It took him a moment to remember what he was saying. Oh yes. “...to stop.”

Alice shook her head and took a step closer to him. If he looked down, he’d be able to see straight down her sweater. As it was, he could see the edge of black lace peeking out and beckoning him to explore further. This close, he detected a faint, vanilla scent on her skin that was warm and infinitely appealing.

“No, I don’t think I have any intention of asking you to stop,” she said.

Foster watched her bring the glass of wine to her lips and he swallowed hard. He lifted his own glass, quickly draining what tasted like a nice merlot without the appreciation it deserved.He would buy her a replacement bottle later. But right now he needed a little booze in his veins to boost his confidence.

“Can I pour you more?” she asked with a curious light in her dark eyes.

“No, thank you,” he insisted. “I just needed a little something to warm me up after being outside for so long.”

Alice nodded and leaned over to sit her glass down on the nearby coffee table. “I think I could help with that.” She came closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her fingers glided through his hair and pulled his head down toward her.

The moment their lips touched, every single ounce of Foster’s anxiety was replaced with a sudden rush of desire. He didn’t know if it was the wine working its magic, or the zip of electricity that traveled down his spine when she caressed his neck, but the result was the same. There was nothing else he wanted, nothing more he needed, nothing in the world that mattered more than drinking in every drop of Alice.

His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her body tight against him the way he’d wanted to in the coffee shop, but couldn’t. Her ample curves pressed into him, eliciting a soft moan from Alice against his mouth. The sound shot straight to his groin, making him bolder and letting his tongue glide along her lips to taste more of her.

It was then that he felt Alice stiffen in his arms. She pulled away from his kiss, her pale cheeks flushed. He expected her to move from his embrace, but instead she looked curiously around the room for a moment as though she were listening for something.

Foster didn’t hear anything but the pounding of his heart in his ribcage. “What is it?”

“I thought...” Alice turned to look at the Christmas tree over her shoulder. “I thought I heard bells.”

“Bells? Is it your phone?” he asked. He shouldn’t be surprised to have this moment trod on by her constant work leash.

She shook her head and turned back to him with a smile. “No, it wasn’t that. You will be glad to know that I turned both my phones off. My job isn’t going to ruin tonight.”

“Wow.” Foster couldn’t mask his surprise at her confession. “I’m flattered.”

“It doesn’t happen often,” Alice admitted, turning her attention back to him. “Now, where were we? Oh yes. I was just about to ask you to accompany me to the bedroom.”

Foster let a ragged breath escape from his lungs. “Maybe I can make a few bells ring in there, too.”

Alice took him by the hand and led him down the dark hallway. “I hope so. It’s been a while since I had my bell rung,” she said with a smile as she opened the door to her bedroom.

CHAPTER 4

Foster returned homethe next morning to find his father awake, dressed, and frying eggs in the kitchen.

“Look who decided to come home,” Leo said with a smirk. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Yes, please.” Foster flopped down into a kitchen chair and threw his jacket over the seat beside him.

Leo brought a steaming cup of black coffee over to him in a “Dad” mug so old, he remembered giving it to him for Father’s Day as a child. “Thanks, Dad.”

“You look like you didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

Foster ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Not much. Maybe two or three hours. Then her alarm went off and she had to go to work. I’ve never been happier not to work a 9-to-5 schedule in my life.”

Leo flipped over the eggs in the skillet and turned off the eye of the stove. “I’m going to presume when you say ‘her’ that you mean Miss Jordan.”

---