Calm Before the Storm

Rain falls softly on the window outside. Next to me, I can feel you breathing. Your heartbeat is steady and rhythmic beneath my head. I feel your warmth and I want to cry from the relief that you are really here. For the longest time, I thought that you were just a figment of my imagination, some invented phantom for my pleasure and enjoyment. Looking down my body, I notice that my arms are above my head, but that I cannot move them. This realization brings a flood of memories rushing back, and my mind immediately flashes back to what I can recall of last night.

This all started weeks ago, with a simple, innocuous meeting in a local bar. I was fresh out of a bad breakup and had just lost my job, and was attempting to drown my sorrows in shots of Jameson with a pickle back (Irish whiskey and pickle juice), and did not notice you as you approached. Looking back now, I cannot see how I could ever have possibly not seen you, but you sat down next to me and ordered a beer and a glass of water. You weren't out drinking that night, you were out hunting, and although I did not know it yet, you had me in your trap.

After a few hours of drinking and making small talk, you finally asked me what was troubling me, and I don't know what came over me, but I told you everything. I unburdened my soul, and you sat there and listened like a priest or a therapist, but I couldn't really be sure that you were paying attention. It turns out that you were paying more attention than I was.

As we continued to talk, your hand made its way to the small of my back and started rubbing slow, soothing circles there. Then, with your other hand, you ran your fingers up and down the side of my neck, which drove me crazy. The hand on my neck trailed up to cup my jaw, and without conscious thought, my head was being turned towards you. You brushed your thumb along my lower lip, and my mouth opened softly. Soon, your head dipped down and you devoured my mouth in a lush, wet kiss that deepened until your tongue was thrusting into my mouth and the hand on my lower back was pushing our hips closer together and I could sense the other sort of invasion that you had in mind.

Knowing that what I was doing was wrong, I was well past the point of caring. I found myself kissing you back with a ferocity that I had not felt in the past two years. Just when I thought that things would move to the next level, you pulled back and abruptly stopped the kiss, setting me back on my feet. I groaned at the loss of your invading tongue, and you smiled wickedly at me and told me that I needed to go home and get some sleep. You wanted to see me again, but I was too drunk for what you had in mind.

I don't remember the cab ride home, or anything else about the rest of the night. I don't even remember paying my tab at the bar, which you apparently did for me because my credit card was back in my wallet in the morning and I never got a charge for my drinks from the bar. I remember waking up in the morning anticipating one hell of a hangover, but was pleasantly surprised when I felt fine when I woke up. Maybe it had something to do with you and the way that you made me feel that was so different from that I had been used to feeling. I felt alive for the first time in a very, very long time, and it was an ecstatic feeling knowing that I was still alive and some parts of me that I had thought did not exist had merely gone dormant and it was your desire to wake up these urges within me.

The next morning I found that you had left me a note and that you wanted me to call you and let you know how I was feeling. I thought that it was touching that you were paying that much attention, but at the same time, it was a little bit creepy that you had figured out where I lived and was able to slip the note under the door. For years I have made it a rule that absolutely nobody knows where I live or how to get to my house, but somehow you managed to slip through all of my normal defenses and I was grateful instead of angered. I knew then and there that I was going to have to give you a wider berth than some of the men I had known before.

That afternoon, I received a text message from you indicating that you wanted to meet for coffee and asking if I would please make a point of showing up. I reluctantly agreed, because somewhere in the back of my mind a niggling thought told me that I really did not want to go and meet you because we would probably pick things up where we left off, and that was scary to me, but in the same moment, my body was crying out for another taste of what you had to offer. I needed the feelings of warmth that flowed over me when you talked to me, and the feeling of connection that you really and truly wanted what was best for me, but logically I knew that you had no reason whatsoever to treat me with respect or to actually be interested in fulfilling my needs and desires.

Since I did not have a job at the moment, I spent the next few hours getting ready to go have coffee with you. I took a long, luxurious bath with candlelight, which seemed a little silly at 2:00 in the afternoon, but the anticipation of the night to come made the idea of a bath seem perfect. I took my time selecting the perfect outfit, did my hair, and put on makeup, all things that I had not done in over a year. I had thought that you were going to text me the address of the coffee shop where I was supposed to meet you, and so I was startled by a knock on my front door. I opened the door, saw you standing there in all of your magnificent power, and was struck speechless. You stood at the door, waiting to be invited in, and your gaze darkened slightly when I just stood there and did not say anything. What you did next took my breath away.