Stolen Moments

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This is another story written for Edward Hotspur’s Romantic Monday.

The first thing that struck her when she saw him was the depth of blue in his eyes.  She swam in the ocean of color before she was able to say hello and when she finally collected herself it seemed awkward, but only for a moment.  His smile and wit quickly reminded her what it was about him that had attracted her in the first place.  The embrace was slight but his kiss sent a shock through her system and she blushed.

Dinner began with a barrage of laughter and good friends talking about years gone by.  They stole a few glances at each other when they thought nobody would notice – his wink melted her.  She had expected nothing to happen since he had left his commitments behind, but only for a few precious days.  After dinner ended and the laughter subsided, the house fell silent.  She lay in her bed thinking about him, thinking about the time they had spent together in the past, in what felt like a different lifetime.  The tenderness and passion that seemed so natural between them lurked in her thoughts and danced like visions behind her eyelids.   She could still feel his breath on her body from those moments long ago.

The noise in the other room pulled her from her reverie.  She stole towards the distraction and saw him alone on the couch.  Tentatively she approached and was greeted with a warm smile and an invitation to join him.  His embrace was as she had remembered it so many times and she pulled herself closer into him. His arm wrapped around her and she stroked the hair on his chest.   The moment was idyllic.  No words were exchanged and none needed to be as they rose from the couch and he led her into the bedroom.  She lay on her stomach and he gently began to massage her shoulders.  His touch was electric and, yet, the softest touch she had ever felt.

Although still partially draped in clothing, their bodies began to move together.  She felt the heat from his breath before his lips touched her back.  His kiss was soft and sweet and she gasped in anticipation of having his mouth on hers.  She arched her back and turned to meet his lips.  Time stood still in those moments and they lost themselves in each other, he feeling her emotion and she feeling his pain. They both knew this shouldn’t be happening but neither of them had the will to stop. Their bodies moved rhythmically together and eventually they lay spent in each other’s arms, lost in the moment, lost in their thoughts.  He was the first to move and, as much as she hated it, she knew she should be back in her own room.  Nobody else could know the extent of their relationship.  Nobody could know of the passion so deep and so strong that it threatened to swallow her every time she saw him. He laid in bed with his eyes closed.  She leaned over and slowly let her lips trace the curve of his.  With a gentle whispered goodnight, she left him and closed the door.

The next morning, there was no awkwardness, only longing.  She wanted to embrace him, but would have to settle for a hidden trace of his finger along her arm.  He winked and her heart warmed.  One by one their friends emerged from behind different doors, coffee was poured and the day was planned. She sat with the group at the table, staying as close to him as possible and she longed to touch him.

After a day of great adventures, darkness descended, stars filled the sky and the wine flowed freely.  Conversations and laughter were caught on the breeze and carried infectiously around the lake.  Although the rest of the group had gathered by the fire, only four of them stayed by the edge of the water staring wordlessly into the night sky.  Dusk had long descended and the darkness enveloped them, but she could feel his stare.  Neither of them spoke as the group made their way back from the lake.  The flashlight beamed in front of them but they held back behind the other two by a few precious feet.  In the darkness she felt his hand reaching for hers.  Their hands clasped with such ferocity she thought she might lose feeling in her fingers but she wasn’t letting go.  Light filtered onto the path ahead of them signaling the closeness of the cottage and their hands reluctantly parted.   Their friends took chairs by the fire and he headed towards the cottage, his eyes asking her to follow.  She found him in his room and curled up beside him.

His lips met hers in the dark.  Sweet, tender kisses were shared, his embrace was comforting and everything about being with him just felt right.  If only things could be different.  If only these stolen moments weren’t the thoughts in her head every day knowing he would never be hers.

17 thoughts on “Stolen Moments

  1. Pingback: Do Not Disturb – A Romantic Monday Post | Edward Hotspur

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