My Fake Fling

“I think it’s beautiful,” I said.

“Originally, we were going to put a pool up here, but the cost just didn’t make sense. We decided to leave it in the basement.”

“I think you made the right decision,” I said.

The rooftop was set up to look like a park. There were fake trees, fake grass, and even a fountain.

“This is our community garden area,” he said. “People are all about the green way of living. There’s nothing growing yet, but there will be once the residents move in.”

“Before winter?” I asked.

He grinned and I just knew he was about to show me something impressive. “Check this out.”

He flipped open a lid of sorts on the side of one of the raised beds. He pushed a button and like something out of the future, a plastic roof rose up and covered the dirt.

“Wow,” I said. “There is very little you didn’t think of.”

“I can’t imagine this is going to get a lot of use, but there are some who are going to fancy themselves gardeners,” he said.

“What’s this?” I asked. We made our way around the garden area. A large greenhouse structure stood before us. But it wasn’t the typical greenhouse.

“It’s going to be useful in the winter,” he said and led me into the covered area with several outdoor couches and chairs. Another gas firepit stood in the center. Thick curtains were pulled back at all four corners.

“This is gorgeous,” I breathed.

It was all very intimate. A cold, winter night with a hot, spiked cider while lounging in front of the warmth of the fire would be beautiful. Two more patio heaters stood on either side.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said.

I looked up and realized he was standing very close. He looked down at me and brushed back a few strands of hair that had been caught in the breeze. I saw him look at me with want. Desire was burning through my own veins. This was wrong and such a bad idea, but here I was thinking about what it would be like to kiss him again. His kisses were one of the things I missed the most about him. He’d always been an amazing kisser. Had he gotten better?

“Reese,” I breathed.

He touched a fingertip to my lips. “Just one kiss,” he whispered.

This was the time to protest. I should tell him no way. Kissing him was the true definition of playing with fire. But my body had other ideas.

I leaned into him, my breasts brushing against his chest with his hand sliding behind my neck. My eyes slid closed out of pure instinct.

I felt his breath a moment before his lips touched mine. It was ridiculous, but it felt like there were fireworks going off all around us. I didn’t open my eyes to see if it was real. I couldn’t. I was in the moment. Nothing else mattered.

I kissed him back. I heard his moan and couldn’t help but feel a shiver of excitement and power. I did that. I was making him moan with pleasure. His kiss was better than I remembered. There was pressure against my lips, demanding I open my mouth. I did what he was quietly demanding. The moment my lips parted, his tongue pushed inside my mouth.

I knew I was lost at that moment. We were up here all alone with no chance of anyone walking in on us. We had total privacy to do whatever we wanted. In this moment, I had a very good idea about what he wanted. Did I dare take the leap? Would I survive the fall that was sure to come after tangling with him?

Again?