Traffic was light for a Friday night and getting to the restaurant was easy from my hotel. The business meetings had been long and as the day went on I found myself thinking more about tonight than what was being discussed. I arrived shortly before 7, which must be the magic hour for lovers and others to get together and meet over wine and good food. I watched as the tables filled and waiters scurried about delivering and retrieving items, trying to make good impressions that might bring great tips from these couples. I picked a dark, secluded table so I could watch the door. I knew he would be looking for me, but I wanted a few moments to admire him as he walked in. I wanted to know if I could still feel his presence when he entered a room. I also wanted to know if he still had the same effect on me as in the past. Twirling my glass of red wine, occasionally sipping, I was nervous about seeing him again and excited as well. The wine seemed to stoke the already warm fire burning in my belly and I felt the relaxing calm spreading over my body. Had someone passed near my table, they might have seen me blush as I thought about our past relationship, wondering if just seeing him would still make me wet in places women aren't supposed to think about it. Who says women aren't visual as well as sensual?
Then he was there. I watched as he stopped briefly to remove his coat and speak to the maître d'. The maitre d' gestured in my direction and when he turned to look, I smiled and gave a little finger wave to indicate I saw him. I emptied my wine glass. As he approached, I felt my heart rate pick up. After all these years, I was as nervous as a school girl on her first date. He portrayed a calmness that would make one think we had just seen each other a few days ago instead of years. He still looked wonderful. Tall, lean, handsome. It may have been my imagination, but I could swear he caught the attention of every woman there. And, if they were thinking what I was thinking, his presence benefitted many men that evening.
"Hello." he said with that wonderfully rich voice I hadn't heard since I was a schoolgirl. "Have you been waiting long? I got caught in traffic." he said, smiling.
"Uh, no. Um. I mean, I haven't been here long. Only long enough to have a glass of wine."
I looked into his beautiful eyes, realizing they were more green now than blue, a kind of hazel. This long-awaited moment was almost overwhelming. His hands reached for mine, covering them easily. I could feel their strength. He was still so masculine that it filled my senses. Inside, I felt the stirring of something long held in check.
He leaned to kiss my cheek, the brush of his lips against my skin enough to stop my heart. It made me want more. His leg touched mine and for a moment my mind flashed back all those times when they were wrapped around his body. He was good then, very good but also very bad. I blushed, hoping he could not read or guess what was passing through my mind.
"Well, I'm not much of a wine connoisseur but a good English draft sounds fine to me," he said, waving to a waiter. Quickly, a glass of dark beer was delivered sporting a thick head of foam. "Learned to like it when I was stationed overseas." he said. "Took a long time to get used to drinking it warm though."
He smiled, his lips parting slightly and showing teeth white and straight, his mustache glistening with the slightest trace of foam. I wondered if it still would tickle if we kissed. A brief glimpse of his tongue made me lick my lips as he tipped his glass to take another drink. I reached up running my thumb over the foam on his upper lip, then brought my finger to my lips and absent mindedly licked it.
His eyes crinkled at the edges as his smile deepened into a seductive grin. Reaching out, he took my thumb in his hand, and slowly licked it.
"Just wondered if it tastes any different this way."
"Does it?" I ask.
"Yes." was all he replied.
Conversation from that point on covered everything. I found it amusing when I still saw flickers of the boy I had known as he spoke of his adventures as a man. My mind drifted back over our adventures and I was aware that certain places were becoming very warm and the tension was drifting away. By the time we finished our meal I was relaxed and ready for fun. Not ready to end our night, he suggested we go to a favorite place of his and have a few drinks and dance. The chance to pull him close was too good to pass up.
The loud rock and roll in the lounge and the top shelf whiskey was all I needed. I'd heard that dancing is the vertical suggestion of the horizontal position. If that was true, god he was good! When they played the first slow dance I tried to beg out of it but he pulled me close, fire ran through me and my heart began to race. I slipped my hand under his coat and felt his beat beneath his shirt. His arms were wrapped around me, his hand dangerously close to my ass. He pulled me even closer and we moved as one. I never wanted it to stop. It felt like he was enjoying it as much as I was. His hand slipped lower and he pressed our hips together. I looked up into his face and found he was staring down at me with a devious smile.
"I ought to kiss you now." He said softly into my ear.
His breath smelled faintly of scotch and his cologne musky and exciting. His lips were so close to my ear that each word was a caress. My eyes widened at this suggestion and he laughed.
"Scared?" he asked, pulling back far enough to look into my eyes
I wanted to taste his lips. To mingle the scotch he had been drinking with the whiskey I still tasted in my mouth. I knew the grip I had on my self control was dangerously thin. I opened my mouth to reply and his lips were on mine. His tongue traced the edges of my teeth. I could taste him, savoring the maleness and enjoying the pressure as he flicked the tip of my tongue. He pulled back enough for me to chase his tongue with mine but still control my lips. In that moment I knew the effect I had on him. Knowing he was physically responding to my touch I looked up into his hazel eyes and affected my best wide eyes look.
"Why? Should I be?" Then I laughed a wicked laugh and grabbed his shirt front pulling him closer. Game on. This was going to be fun.
Deep in my core I could feel the beat of the music and pressed my hips against him and rocked. Getting in to the rhythms I let the music take me. I danced with and around him, close enough for him to touch me. We laughed and danced until the next slow song. As the music quieted I looked up and with a sly look asked, "Are you?"
