IMAGINING MY LOVER, and then...
Our eyes first met while waiting for the train. The chill in the December air took my breath away. I smiled to myself thinking those hazel eyes would surely keep me warm and toasty. I glanced his way yet again, and he was gone. I could tell this day at work would not be productive. His eyes haunted me all day.
Daydreams of his dark hair and perfectly shaped mouth. Those dimples. The strong masculine hands. God, would I ever see him again? The evening was long. I wrestled with hopes he too thought of me. Please God let us meet again.
Another day and then again. No sign of him. I stand in the very spot waiting for the train. I close my eyes hoping to will his body back to me. I search the crowd, but to no avail. Did I lose you? Was it all just my imagination? Still those eyes haunt me. They call to me saying look for me Kennedi, I am here. I always have been.
The days turn into weeks. My evenings are filled with fantasy. His deep hazel eyes drawling me in. Those lips so close to mine, but he keeps them from me. His arm around my waist just casually. His strong hand behind my neck, and then... Oh God and then. His arm tightens like a vice around my waist pulling me into him. His hand reaches up and now my long brown curls are captive. It's sudden. It takes my breath away, and it's so deliciously erotic. I wake up crying. I am here. I always have been. Please find me.
The holiday weekend is here at last. Travelers heading out of town. I must get him out of my head. Packing an overnight bag, I too will go someplace. First stop at the local Starbucks. I need a feel good moment. I reach to open the door when those familiar hands appear." Allow me to get the door for you, my lady", come the words from their owner. I look up, and it's him! My hazel eyes. We stand in the doorway spellbound by each other. Time has stopped. My heartbeat is racing, I am alive again.
He is here in front of me. So close. I can't breathe. We enter Starbucks making our way to the counter. Still no audible words between us, but our eyes are speaking volumes. The barista stood patiently waiting for our order. He smiled and winked at me, as he placed our order. The lady will have a Tall Caramel Brulee Latte, and I will take the Chestnut Praline Latte. How could he know that was a favorite? I watched his mouth as he formed his words, and ordered my coffee. Hearing his tone of voice. Just the right pitch. Not too high, and most certainly, not weak. Spoken like a cultured gentleman with the slightest inflection of authority. If he only knew how much my body yearned for him. Right here. This moment. Please take me now. Nothing exists. Nothing matters. The patrons are oblivious to my hunger. Which was hotter; the Latte, or the lace of my panties?