Once inside the door, she turned into his arms. He dragged her close and kissed her with barely banked hunger. “Oh, baby, you taste so good. I’ve been wanting to do this all evening, this and a lot more.”
“I wanted it to, muffin. But let’s play a game. I’ll think of a number from one to ten, and if you can guess it, you get to take a garment off me. If you don’t, I get to take one off you. The first one naked wins, right?”
He gave a throaty chuckle. “Baby, you have some great ideas.”
She rubbed against him, all but purring. “What’s the number, darling?”
“Seven.”
“Oh, that was too easy, wasn’t it?”
He reached out and plucked the flower on a tiny comb from her hair. The golden mass cascaded down over her shoulders like sunlit rain. “What’s my number, sugar-pie?”
She pretended to think about it, almost sure it would be five, which was his favorite number. His birthday was May 5th. “I think maybe three,” she said.