Page 148 of The Overtime Kiss

Maybe I can too, and that starts with focusing on the here and now. On this holiday. On this date. On this time with her. Now is not the time to think too hard about the future.

I take her hand, pull her close, and as I skate with her, I say, “Would you do something for me?”

She arches a curious brow. “Maybe?”

“Do a camel spin.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “You really do have a thing for figure skaters.”

“No. I have a thing for you. And I fucking love watching you skate for me.”

She bobs her shoulder, lets go of my hand, and glides effortlessly to an open spot in the middle of the rink, where she leans forward, lifting her right leg behind her. Then she spins around and around, her arms out wide, her face bright, her smile shining.

When she’s done, I’m not the only one clapping for her. But I’m the only one she skates over to.

I take her hand once more.

So what if we don’t know what the future holds? I know what this moment holds.Her and me, finally going out together.

I tug off her mitten, stuff it in my jacket pocket, and curl my fingers through hers as we skate round and round together. Even if the future is murky, the present is perfect.

When our session is done, our skates turned in, I’m pretty sure I’m ready to ask her a big question. To finally put a name to what we are. But she grabs my wrist, checks the time, and then wiggles her eyebrows.

“Do we have time for our fourth lesson?” she asks, reminding me that it’s been a while. “Because there’s an item on my list. Page twenty-two. I’ve always wanted to have hot, up-against-the-door hotel sex.”

I hail a cab so fast.

I set a timer on my watch. I make sure my phone is on. I’m not fucking up again.

Any of this. For anyone.

We have ninety minutes till we need to get to Park Slope to pick up the kids. And the second the door to her room is opened, I push Sabrina against the wall and grab her face.

“You should get everything you want,” I rasp out as I kick the door closed.

She hums, flicking the tip of her tongue against the corner of her lips before her gaze drifts down my torso to my jeans. “Like your cock inside me?”

I groan, then run a finger across her bottom lip. “What a filthy mouth on such a sweet woman.”

She lifts her chin. “You like it that way.”

I love it that way,I correct in my head. Out loud, I say, “I absolutely fucking do.”

She gives a sassy little bob of her shoulder. “Get moving, Falcon.”

I kiss her hard—a punishing one for this sassy, feisty woman who deserves it. I pour all my lust, all this pent-up longing, into a searing kiss that vibrates to my very core. Our tongues skate together as we tug off jackets, toe off boots, fumble at belts and waistbands.

But it’s winter in New York, and a quickie against the door isn’t easy. As we get a little tangled in layers, we laugh and break apart. I focus on sliding her leggings down her legs, trying to tug them off.

But then once I’m down here...

Well, fuck it.

I yank down her panties too, and once they’re at her knees, I bury my face between her thighs.

She gasps, clearly surprised. “I thought you were going to?—”

“Fuck you against the door?” I stop to ask.

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