The Magpies versus the Falcons was an exciting matchup. Not as exciting as the Magpies and the Harpies, but even so, Scarlett was wrapped up in the action and drama of the game as she watched from the seat Hunter had reserved for her. She'd even made sure not to go back on her word to him, to keep her sex life away from his games.

But, unsurprisingly, all of that energy coiled up in her, desperate to be released. She'd gone to the Drunken Zebra to celebrate with the team and had even thrown herself into it, drinking and dancing with several sexy blokes. But when one of them asked her to go home with him, she found herself declining. Why in the bleeding hell she was declining a sure, good fuck, she didn't know, but she had, and after that, the party just didn't seem like as much fun.

Upon arriving home, though, she found she still couldn't settle, and her eyes wandered to the skin mag setting on her bedside table. Scarlett wasn't sure what she'd been thinking when she'd subscribed to the publication a week ago. But when the latest issue had arrived a few days ago, she'd skimmed through the pornographic images to get to the erotic stories, reading through them until she found what she was looking for. Aldrich's style of writing was more familiar to her than she wanted to admit, and the next installment he'd published had turned her on enough that she'd worked a hand between her own legs while imagining herself and Aldrich in the scene he'd written. Her solo orgasms weren't usually as intense as they were that night.

Impulsivity leading the way, Scarlett left her flat, heading down the stairs and walking quickly through Victory Road. Turning left at the end of the road, she walked down to the last building on the road, went inside, and found herself quickly standing outside Aldrich's first floor flat. Lifting a hand, her fist pounded three times on his door, thinking that he better fucking be home.