Dear New York, You are brilliant. Love, Sara.

P.S. This is definitely not the alcohol talking.

“I don’t have many chances to look at the back of my neck.”

“A shame, really.” He pulled his hand away and I felt a mild chill where his warm fingers had been. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a tiny package.

A condom. He just happened to have a condom in his pocket. It would never have occurred to me to bring a condom with me to some random club.

Turning me to face him, he swiveled us, pressed me back against the wall and bent to kiss me, first soft and then harder, hungrier. When I thought I’d lose my breath, he wandered away, sucking at my jaw, my ear, my neck, where my pulse hammered wildly. My dress had fallen back down my thighs, but his fingers teased at the edge, slowly lifting.

“Someone could walk down here,” he reminded me, giving me one last out, even as he lowered my panties enough for me to step out of them.

I didn’t care. Not even a little. And maybe even a tiny part of me wanted someone to wander up here, to see this perfect man touching me like this. I could hardly think of anything other than where his hands were, how my skirt was over my hips now, how he pressed so hard and insistent against my stomach.

“Don’t care.”

“You’re drunk. Too drunk for this? I want you to remember it if I fuck you.”

“So make it memorable.”

He lifted my leg, spreading me, exposing my bare skin to the cool air-conditioning blowing from just above us, and hooked my knee around his hip, making me grateful for my four-inch heels. Reaching between us, I unbuttoned his jeans, pushed his boxers down just enough in front to free him, and wrapped my hand around his erection, rubbing it across my wetness.

“Fuck, Petal. Let me get this on.”

His pants were open but slung over his hips. From the back we could even appear to be dancing, maybe just kissing. But he pulsed in my palm, and the reality of the situation made me wild. He was going to take me, right here, overlooking the crowd below. In that crowd were people who knew me as Good Sara, Responsible Sara, Andy’s Sara.

New home, new job, new life. New Sara.

My stranger was heavy and so long in my hand. I wanted him and was also a little terrified that he might impale me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever held a man who got this hard.

“You’re big,” I blurted.

He smiled, a wolf truly about to devour me, and quickly tore the condom package with his teeth. “That is the best thing you can say to a man. You could even tell me you’re not sure I’ll fit.”

I swept the tip across my opening, and trembled from it. He was so warm: soft skin, hard beneath.