A Very Good Thing by Kate Douglas

I stared at the melted ice cubes in the bottom of my glass, at the flattened slice of lime that looked like the sort of green slug you’d want to pour salt on if it crawled across your porch, and debated ordering another gin and tonic. One I paid for instead of the one my good-for-nothing ex-boyfriend — emphasis on ex — bought me as a kiss-off appetizer.

An arm went around my shoulders. A big, strong, very male arm. I had no time to react. Frozen in place, I felt lips against my ear, heard the soft whisper. “Help me out. Pretend you’re my lover.”

I sucked in a deep breath. Okay. He’s a guy. I’m a guy. But this is not a gay bar. I’m bi. I do my best not to give off the vibe, but what the hell. I turned slowly, too close to make out his features, though I could tell that his skin was Mediterranean dark and his eyes the truest turquoise I’d ever seen. Instead of speaking, I wrapped my long fingers around the back of his skull and pulled him close for a deep, tongue-twisting, tooth-bumping kiss.

He didn’t hesitate. He kissed me back. Kissed me with such fervor, such soul-stealing finesse, that everything beyond his hard body and firm lips just… went away. The emotional residue from my break-up exploded in bright pinpoints of light. I have no idea when I stood, but the pressure on my mouth slowly eased. With a couple of soft nips and licks, I realized we were both standing, our arms around each other, our bodies molding, one to the other as if we were already locked in a mind-blowing fuck.

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I heard hoots and catcalls and realized we were drawing an audience. I was the one to break the kiss, but he was ready. Blowing like he’d just run a mile, he chuckled softly and leaned his forehead against mine. His arms were around my waist; mine still looped over his shoulders. I didn’t even know what the guy looked like, yet my body was thrumming with need, my heart pounding, and my brain overloaded with one, simple question.

So I asked. “What the fuck was that all about?”

He laughed softly. “Ex-wife and her mother. Bad break-up. No kids, but the ex won’t let go and her mother keeps encouraging her.” He raised his head. “I’m not gay, but I saw your guy give you the brush-off and I’m desperate. Figured it might be my way out. That if she thinks I’m gay, she’ll back off.”

This time, I was the one laughing. “Bi, gay. Definitely not straight. Who knows. Or cares.” I stepped back and looked him up and down. He was absolutely beautiful. And aroused. Very, very aroused. Even his dark jeans couldn’t hide what he was feeling. “Interested in checking out the other options?”