Excerpt:
We reached across the table to clink our glasses together.
"No one understands me either," we said in unison.
I blushed. His scent of fresh soap and spiced cologne intoxicated me as if I could taste it on my tongue.
The server asked if we needed another round, but we both declined. Langston waved him off kindly and said we should get some air.
Outside, the cool night air felt good against my skin. The stars twinkled above us, and Langston pointed out constellations like reading a book. Orion, Cassiopeia, and others. I let out a small gasp when he told me there was one that resembled a man with a star for a crown.
"Wow. That's the first time anyone's ever shown me that," I whispered, goosebumps prickling my arms.
He smiled. "Imagine how people used to look up at stars, see images, paint pictures." He blew out a breath in a cloud in the cold air. His nose was starting to turn red. He looked adorable. But he didn't seem to notice the cold as he looked up. "Fantasies in the sky."
He looked down at me but said nothing as he wrapped his arms around himself to stay warm.
"So, tell me about your fantasies," he murmured into the silence.
"Huh?" I blinked, caught off guard by his directness.
He chuckled. "You know, what do you like to dream about when the stars come out? What turns you on?" His voice was deep and husky, sending shivers down my spine.
"I don't know," my eyes lowered nervously. "I've never really thought about it." My cheeks flushed as I realized how naive that sounded.
"I don't think that's true," he began, taking my hand into both of his. He blew onto them, his hot breath hitting my cold skin. And his lips, so soft, brushed against the palm of my hand.
A moment later Langston pulled me in for a warm kiss. When our lips met, a fire ignited, spreading like wildfire through my veins. Langston's mouth moved against mine with a fervor that matched the intensity of the kiss. His lips were soft and pliant, molding perfectly to mine.
I tasted the remnants of the wine on his lips, an intoxicating blend mingling with the sweetness of his breath. His heat enveloped me, seeping into my skin. Gathering my hair peeking from under my hat, he tangled it in his fingers, willing my head back, my lips parted. His other hand slipped past my bomber jacket, onto my butt, pulling me closer.
A moan escaped me instinctually. It was all he needed to pull me in further, his tongue exploring my mouth.
My pulse pulsed, feeling him press against me.
"God damn it," he said, pulling away, searching my eyes as I searched his back for answers to unasked questions.
"I think- I think I should head home." I took wobbly steps back, cold air rushing between us. I did not come to Chicago for this - the last thing I needed.
I waved briefly and left him confused on the cold Chicago street. And if he felt only a pinch of what I did, I also left him horny as hell.
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