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Drift
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Drift Her presence alone set her apart from the women milling about on the broad floor. him, she had no need rely the poor lighting hide the flaws the others were careful conceal. It was as if she did not care and yet controlled her visibility him as if a dial. His first pass through the tumble of people the floor yielded nothing of particular interest. The feeling of being watched in this environment was ever present but he felt the instinct search out the source of it. the second pass, her eyes turned the dial catch his attention. The side-long glance connected with such power he paused mid-step and his entire being tuned her. He held her gaze through sheer autonomic response, the dance of light in the periphery of his vision forgotten. He was far enough away to take her in without having to break eye contact. There was purpose in each detailed arrangement of her hair. The black dress she wore clung artfully to paint the curves of her skin where allowed, allowing the golden hue of her skin to escape here and there. The sling of her bare shoulders angled casually down her arms crossed underneath her breasts. Her legs were long angles that emerged from the bottom of the skirt to end sharply in the toe of her shoes. No one piece of her out of place or without purpose, it was all grace. The flick of her eyes to the floor beside her was invitation for him to take a breath. The subtle gesture mercifully breaking eye contact just long enough to give him control and lean into her gravity. Dodging the occasional obstacle, the space between was closed with as much composure as he could muster under her relentless gaze. Desperation to be near her wrestling against the defiance a small corner of his mind stubbornly held. What little resistance there was evaporated as he leaned in to introduce himself in her ear. The intake of a quick breath to speak had filled his head with her aroma. A heady mix of the spicy perfume she wore, light perspiration in the overly warm room, and the heated scent of her hair. He pulled back, aware he could not speak. The glint in the corner of her eye quickly met by the upward corner of her smile as she said her name loudly against the storm of sound around them. The tone of each syllable heard clearly as it permanently etched into him. He reached for the hand she offered, careful to wrap his own around hers. Her hand easily fit into his, creating the narrative in his mind that it belonged there. He succeeded in his second attempt to tell her his name, using the opportunity to pull her closer to him as he did so. Regretfully, he released the diminutive hand and expected her to pull it back to herself. Instead, her other hand reached under his arm to apply pressure to the back and top of his shoulder. He had no intention to resist her guiding him down into a curved stoop, and set her cheek against his as she began to talk. The intimate proximity forcing him to reach over and rest his hand on her far shoulder in order to balance and keep her close. The hard curves in his palms surprised him. The musculature of her shoulder was not something he knew to expect from looking at her. The glow of her skin portrayed the illusion of being soft. And, now that he was able to work his hand over her exposed shoulder freely, the illusion did not match the reality. The hidden physical strength added depth to the words vibrating between them. The exchange of words occasionally pausing long enough to pull away and enjoy a laugh or point out an observation. But the implied hold between them persisted and only managed to tighten as the minutes ticked away with ever increasing langor. A pang of fear welled in him as he felt her pull away. She began searching for something and in confusion he watched her head swivel in a survey of the room. Stepping away from him, he felt her hand move along his arm and fall into the cup of his palm and pull tightly. He felt her navigate the floor to an unlikely empty booth. The low table covered in the remains of the departing group’s entertainment. He watched her slide to the center of the semicircle seat and pat the spot next to her. Obedience followed without his consultation. She lifted his arm without permission and nuzzled herself into the space between it and his body. He welcomed the warmth and felt her continue to press into him. Unexplained guilt cast his eyes across the floor to look for what inevitable thing would be there to take this from him. He did not find it and instead looked down into her amused eyes. The words she aimed at him tying knots in his reason. He tried to answer and realized that he had been watching her mouth and not hearing the voice. The hand on his thigh pressed down as she raised her mouth to his. He drank in the kiss, the soft lips bursting a blissful sensation in his own as they moved to devour him. He watched her eyes close and give into her work. She looked relieved and satiated, reflecting his own tangle of emotion. Returning the pressure, he forced her lips apart to allow his tongue hers. The warm wet heat of her mouth setting the stage for the explosion of arousal coursing from her tongue to his. The long moment conveyed the deep passion between them, and she pulled back to look in his eyes. The purpose he found there expressed through a delighted sigh escaping the O-shape of her mouth. He took the compliment and enjoyed its reward as she leaned in again. |
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