Virgin Flyer

I raced toward the closet to get my phone out of the safe, but tripped over my own foot on the way there and sideswiped the TV table with my hip, hard.

“Fuck,” I hissed, looking down at the offending piece of furniture. And that’s when there was a knock on the door.

I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from yelping. Was it too late to cancel? What if I was so nervous I couldn’t get a hard-on? What if…

He knocked again.

Oh god. It’s happening.

I took a deep breath and strode toward the door as confidently as I could fake being. After shooting one last warning look over my shoulder at the TV table, I reached for the handle and pulled the door open.

My eyes had never before been gifted with such a sight.

I blinked and was surprised to see him still standing there. Tall, broad, handsome as hell. He had dirty-blond windblown hair and was dressed in a dark wool coat over a white button-down shirt open at the collar. I could see darker blond chest hair in the vee of his shirt and a prominent Adam’s apple under dark evening stubble. I wanted to lick it. I wanted to sniff it. I wanted to climb up his large body and beg for him to touch me. My stomach dropped. This was unexpected.

My jaw had also dropped, and maybe drool had escaped too. Just when I was about to tell the man he had the wrong room, he reached out to shake my hand but then pulled it to his lips for a kiss instead. He took his time dropping soft kisses up the inside of my arm until he was close enough to reach an arm around my back and pull me in for a real kiss.

A full-on, lips-on-sexy-lips kiss.

I may have let out a little whimper, just a tiny one before realizing that if he was kissing me—a stranger—without saying a word, maybe he was in the right room after all. And, hell, even if he wasn’t… I was probably okay with that.

I kissed him back with all I was worth, clutching the thick, soft wool of his coat lapels and holding him close. He smelled like winter air mixed with late-in-the-day cologne and something that reminded me of airplanes. Maybe he was a businessman in town for work and had just come off a flight. Or maybe he lived here and had just returned from visiting family somewhere for the holidays. His username was FlyGuy, so it made sense.

Why did it matter? It didn’t. I ran my arms around his neck and threaded my fingers into his thick hair. He was taller and broader than Chris, but had similar hair. I tried to remind myself that’s who I wanted to imagine myself with tonight, but it wasn’t easy. This man didn’t smell like Chris, and he had a different kind of physical presence and confidence altogether. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but I was willing to find out.

He moved me into the room and let the door close behind us. I didn’t pay much attention to our surroundings, as distracted as I was by the taste of his tongue on mine. It was minty but with a hint of alcohol like maybe he’d had a drink with dinner. His stubble lightly scratched my face in the best way, and his large hands moved up to cup my cheeks. I noticed one oddly pointy canine tooth that made his imperfect smile perfectly endearing.

He pulled back to stare at me for a beat before smiling wider and leaning in to press the softest kiss on my cheek. And then one on my other cheek. And then one on my forehead.

I stood there and drank in the attention, falling immediately into the simulated boyfriend experience as if it was real. I wanted it to be real, and I wasn’t going to waste a moment of the pretense reminding myself it wasn’t.

He clasped my chin with his finger and thumb before pressing another soft kiss to my lips and then stepped back to pull off his coat, never breaking eye contact with me.

I wanted to babble. My mouth was itching to ask him if this was all right, if he was sure, if I was a disappointment. I had to press my teeth tightly together to keep from breaking my rule within the first five minutes.

As he removed items from his pockets and set them on the table, he continued watching me with a soft smile and warm eyes. It was sweeter than I’d expected. I’d been worried the guy would disregard my plea for romance and just barge in here expecting a straight-up fuck. So the eye contact both put me at ease and made me flutteringly nervous.