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The cold, winter rain beat a relentless tattoo against the glass panes of the bedroom window, and Victoria Young shivered involuntarily beneath the thick quilt covering her firm young body. The curvaceous brunette drew it tighter around her chin, listening to the gurgle of water in the roof drains, and wished her husband, Kirk, were home on this afternoon of all afternoons.
It was New Year’s Eve.
But he wasn’t home, and he wouldn’t be home until six o’clock—it was a little after three now. He was a physical education teacher at Valley Glen College, and had the misfortune—or fortune, depending on whose point of view was taken—to be a hundred miles away in Lakeland, coaching the college’s freshman basketball team in the championship game of the Holiday Classic Tournament.
It would be nice, she thought, if Kirk were here right now, lying with me under this warm old quilt with his arms around me. Perhaps we could even make love; yes, that would be nice—to make love with Kirk on this cold New Year’s Eve afternoon.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.