Page 14 of Fairy Cakes in Winter

My lips were dry and my mouth wasn’t working. I could honestly attest that I’d never been in a situation quite like this or with a man who looked anything like Scott O’Brien. He was big and tough with sharp edges and intense eyes, but he was kind, too. And did I mention hot? As in lumberjack sexy hot with a healthy dose of brawny masculine yumminess.

Somewhere in my state of unchecked admiration, it occurred to me that he wouldn’t have followed me if he wasn’t interested. I had a strong feeling he might say yes to almost anything I suggested right now. Even something…risqué.

Brave or stupid? I still couldn’t tell, but I took one last glance around and leaned in. “I want to touch you.”

Scott did that single-brow thing again. “Where?”

“Everywhere. Your abs, your stomach, your…”

“Dick?”

“Yes,” I murmured, squelching the desire to fan myself ’cause suddenly, I was on fire. Engulfed in a fiery furnace of want and need and sexual energy.

His nostrils flared. “And you want to do that here?”

“I—okay. Yes.” I nodded like a marionette with a wonky string. “Yes, I do.”

Without a second thought, I wheeled my suitcase down the short row of stalls and shimmied into the one furthest from the exit.

I had my doubts about the logistics of a restroom rendezvous, but this bathroom looked newer with floor-to-ceiling partitions and stalls wide enough to accommodate luggage, and perhaps…two grown men.

My heart immediately jumped into my throat. Oh, geez…this was really happening.

Ugh. Maybe it shouldn’t happen.

I wasn’t sure I was made for meaningless bathroom sex. In fact, I was a big fan of boring missionary sex. In the dark. But there was nothing worse than a big fat penis teaser—I mean, cock tease. Okay, never mind, murderers, cheaters, and extortionists were far more terrible. Nonetheless, that didn’t change my very real worry that I might have bitten off more than I could chew.

The partition door inched open before I could plan my exit speech. In a blur of wild repositioning involving some squeezing and propping of luggage, I found myself backed against the wall, inches from Scott.

He winced at the tight fit. “Was this what you had in mind?”

This was where I’d say no. This was where I’d tell him I’d regained my senses and was ready to say a civilized good-bye. This was where I’d apologize for leading him on and being a nuisance in general.

But something inside me wouldn’t let this go. I could almost hear a small voice whispering,

Be brave. You want this. Go for it. Don’t let it slip away. Not this time.

And with that, I cupped Scott’s neck and crashed my mouth over his.

I drove my tongue between his lips, devouring him hungrily. Scott met me thrust for thrust, tugging at my hair before inching away to rake his teeth along my jaw. He pressed kisses down my neck and recaptured my mouth as I undid his belt and lowered his jeans and boxer briefs over his ass.

Then I wedged my hand between the tight press of our bodies and curled my fingers around his rigid cock, sighing in appreciation.

So much for regaining my senses.

I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and no one near as perfect as Scott. I wasn’t prepared for how amazing it would feel.

Part of it might have been the thrill of giving in to unexpected carnal pleasure with a stranger…in public. I should have been mortified at how quickly I’d unraveled, but the only thing that mattered at the moment was touching him.

I stroked him with long, slow pulls, feeling a thousand times more powerful and sure of myself than I had two minutes ago. I was pretty sure the stream of sexy gibberish he whispered in my ear and the incessant tilt of his hips meant I was doing this right.

“Wanna fuck you. Wanna taste you,” he murmured, yanking at the waistband of my sweats to return the favor.

He teased my slit with languid circles, coating the tip of my drooling cock with precum as I nibbled his lips. I closed my eyes, shivering when he jacked my length a little faster now, keeping up a steady stream of dirty talk. He wanted to lick my hole, bite my ass, and fuck me senseless. He wanted me begging and clinging to the wall while he filled me, stretched me, took me.

I whimpered like a harlot on a fast train to hell. True statement. I was vaguely aware of far-off airport noises—the garbled announcements on overhead speakers, the hum of conversation and laughter, the creak of rolling luggage, and retreating footsteps. We were part of the cacophony, but we were separate, too.

And yes, it was very like me to put a poetic spin on what was really a show of greedy desire.