Hot and Burning

[Nesrin Aziz]

Nesrin was aware when he moved, but she made no move to follow. Eddie’s bed was comfortable, even without him in it, and she was in no great rush to vacate. She ached in the good way, and she was still sleepy and content tangled in his sheets. It was only the tantalizing prospect of fresh coffee that eventually convinced her to rouse, though even then she was languid as a cat, running her gaze over the inside of his bedroom as she sat up, stifling a yawn and brushing her thick black curls back from her face. She poked about a bit, but only out of curiosity for the sort of man he was – she didn’t take anything. Then she folded up her dress, checked the Key was still there, and showered in his bathroom.

It wasn’t unusual for her to stick around after a night like that – well, not unless it was plain bad sex, and that was just the risk you took for exploring a spark with a stranger. Nesrin’s own life was rootless, and she was always a little inquisitive to see how other people lived – to live alongside them, in that sometimes curious morning-after pretend, even if only for a moment. She helped herself to one of the shirts in Eddie’s closet. Still securing the buttons, it was all she was wearing when she padded out to discover where his kitchen was.

It amused her to see he was already dressed and pristine. Usually that might be a subtle indication the welcome was overstayed, but she doubted it was the case with him. Her gaze roamed unabashed, tallying his neatness now with the unexpectedly steamy passion of what she’d discovered underneath. The tilt of her smile was sly and pleased – he could make up his own mind if that was for last night’s memory, or because he was making coffee.

“You must have some serious skeletons in your closet, Eddie,” she said in jest as she joined him. Because she couldn’t fathom a single reason why a man like that was single.