Page 144 of Flirty Fall Fling

“Witches’ brew,” I whisper.

“We have to be careful,” she warns, laying each item out on the quilt with the same care she used back when I was a client and she didn’t want to be vulnerable around me.

So much has changed.

The wax on the bottle cracks under her thumb. She whispers while she pours, words I could never place.

She balances the spoon across the first glass and sets a sugar cube on top. Then she pours the water over the sugar. The green underneath begins to glow like it’s alive. The scent reaches me before the glass does. It’s licorice and earth.

She pours the second glass and hands me mine.

“Remember what I told you the first time?” she asks.

“Of course.” I turn the glass in the firelight. “Clothes optional?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Always. Ready?”

“Yes,” I say.

“Together.”

We tap the edges and down them.

“There is no turning back now,” she tells me, shaking it off.

“Let’s fucking go, babe.”

She sets up the second one.

This one is full of warmth and burns my chest.

By the third, the fire is blazing. It’s hot—so hot that I’m sweating. She grabs my hand and interlocks her fingers with mine. My vision blurs at the edges, and her laugh sounds lighter than it did before.

“I’m burning up,” I tell her.

“Me too,” she says, unbuttoning my shirt.

The kiss I’ve wanted all night finally happens.

My fingers go to the buttons on her dress. “Fuck. There are a thousand buttons.”

“Forty.” Her laugh is soft. “There’s no rush.”

I’m seeing double of everything as I unwrap her. “You’re a gift.”

She doesn’t help, just watches.

The velvet falls below her shoulders, and she’s not wearing a bra. Her nipples are at full attention, dark and perky. It might be in the upper thirties right now, but neither of us is shivering. Blaire stands, pulling me up with her, removing my clothes. We exchange a look and lose our underwear. Then we dance.

There’s no music, but we don’t need any.

I stop feeling ridiculous and let all the bullshit go. It’s pure freedom. Bliss. Halfway through, Blaire tips her head back and howls at the thinning moon. The coyotes return our call again.

The sparks rise higher, and I pull Blaire into my arms and kiss her. Even as a skeptic, I can feel the magic in the moment.

We come down onto the quilt together, laughing, and then we aren’t. Our mouths come together, and nothing else in the world makes any fucking sense but this. Her. Us.

She pushes me onto my back and rises over me. The fire blazes against one side of us, and the moon is on the other.