Rain

Rain, God, how she hated it. A warm, summer shower is delightful and pleasant to walk through with your lover, but Saturday's rain was cold and damp. A biting wind gusted outside as she dressed for the day. Errands, mundane trips to deliver kids to and from activities required her to be out in THAT.

She looked out the window, half-sullen. The last morning like this she called him at his office. She wanted to lounge with him by a fireplace, sip coffee and laugh with him, snuggling close to protect her from the damp winter chill. He teased her that the only time she called was when it was raining. She challenged him, but smiled that he would notice.

She had barely finished her first cup of coffee. The boys had a tournament today. They left early and would not be back until after dinner. The girls had several activities which meant she would rush for an hour dropping them off al over town, have a couple of hours to herself, and then rush to pick them up and take them to the next birthday party, or dance lesson, or practice, or whatever was happening that day. She honestly couldn't remember.

She slipped out of her robe and ran the shower. The hot, steaming water enveloped her in a cocoon, temporarily masking winter's bite and sting outside. She thought of him again. Not an unpleasant thought, but if she dwelt too much on him, she would be in a quandary. Her mind would be a paradox of warm affection and lust. She missed him so much sometimes, it frightened her. She really did enjoy the new life she was experiencing, in a way that surprised her. But he snuck in from time to time, causing intense emotions, wanting to run away from him and toward him at the same time.

No. Don't go there, you'll end up thinking of him all day. Well, there could be worse thoughts, she mused. In that split second, she lost control. The water, his smile, the joking over the phone had just destined her think of him for the day, regardless of who was in the car or in the house. The hot liquid shower, the soap she was rubbing against her skin, memories of walks on the beach, showering together, it was to much to ignore. The warmth on her skin was causing another warmth within her. Part sexual, part deep friendship, part joy. She would be with him for the day, at least in her heart and mind.

As she dressed, she figured she might as well play the part. He would never know, but she could at least enjoy the torment by pretending to be with him. She choose a matching bra and panty set. Wonderful silk. Something he could have picked out for her, but she had purchased this, although she wondered whether, deep inside, she had been thinking about him when she spied it on the rack. Thin spaghetti straps, just the right amount of cut, enough to support and still little enough to expose the milky white upper part of her breasts. God, she thought of the ways he pampered and caressed her breasts. His touches, kisses and nipples drove her right where they both wanted to be when they were together.

A denim wrap skirt and denim button-down blouse completed her outfit. Comfortable enough for the errands with the kids, spiffy enough in case she bumped into anyone she wanted to impress, and still a sort sexy-yet-casual feeling to it. Not that anyone would notice, but the ensemble lifted her spirts, something she would desperately need to keep her mood today. Rain, God how she hated it, especially when she would rather lock herself away with him for the day, next to a fire, sharing coffee and each other.

The errands went more smoothly than she expected. The girls weren't badgering each other and there weren't too many other cars out this early on a Saturday. No wonder, she thought quietly. Rain. Cold. Wind. But she knew that after she dropped her youngest off at a friend's for the day, the traffic would pick up. Stores would be open, families would be doing their own errands. And the cars, no, rather the lousy Midwestern drivers, would make it unbearable to maneuver. At least in the East she could be aggressive in these conditions and no one would think anything of it. People in the East were supposed to drive like maniacs. These country bumpkins thought snow meant driving with your foot on the brake constantly. Even the barely-there drizzle out this morning would send these drivers in to a panic. She was looking forward to getting the girls dropped off and sneaking home for a couple of hours, before having to venture out again.

She was already thinking what she might do when she was at home alone. She wanted to speak with him. Actually, she wanted to see him, be with him. Damn. Perhaps she could start on that story she promised him weeks ago. Today might be a good day to unleash a little creative energy and write something for him. Since beginning to think of him in the shower, she certainly had enough sensual energy she wanted to unleash. Oh, well...

The road ahead resembled a parking lot. Someone had been a stupid driver, she decided, and brought the entire main road to a complete halt. No one was moving in any direction. She wasn't going to let this mess keep her from getting home to start her story. The Bostonite in her took control, and she hopped a curb to escape the traffic jam, swinging on a side road that would direct her away from the main arteries, and the maniacs.

Relieved to be out of the crush, she was momentarily confused. She couldn't exactly remember where this road led. She knew it would take her the direction she wanted, but couldn't visualize the specifics. She flashed to a trip to Boston, with him. The weather was horrible and she insisted on driving the rental car, challenging his ability to drive in a big city. She knew better, but still wanted to have control in that situation. He teased her about her navigational ability. But once they arrived at the hotel, neither had trouble navigating each other's desires, wishes or bodies.

Then she remembered. This road wound past his office. She wondered how much of the side trip was to escape traffic, and how much was her inner thoughts taking her past a familiar spot to dwell on him more. Her face scrunched to a half-smile, half-frown. It wasn't fair to live so close and not be able to see him. He was probably on a trip anyway, flirting with cocktail servers, flight attendants or whoever he had arranged to take with him to Orlando, or San Diego, or New Orleans. She knew he didn't actually do anything on these trips, but he was such a flirt. She laughed, thinking of the way he flirted with her before their relationship took a turn for the better.

She rounded the bend in the road and saw his office building. A few seconds and she would drive right past it. An odd feeling of warmth and desire, mixed with a shrug, knowing she wouldn't be with him today.

Then she saw it. His car was the only vehicle in the lot. Her heard skipped a beat. Could he really be working today? Of course, she answered herself, he was a workaholic, after all. No, surely he left his car here for the trip he must be on. She wanted to stop and see if he was really there. But she couldn't decide whether to stop or not. What he was there, but not alone. Any of several colleagues could have been dropped off to work on some project, and who knew who might show up at anytime, even if he was there, alone.

Her curiosity raced. Should she stop? What if his family was with him? No, she thought, he wouldn't bring his kids to the office. He was too focused for that. If, in fact, he was in the office on a weekend, he was in to be productive, which is why he was away from his computer at home. The office would offer fewer distractions. Umm, she thought… distractions. She screwed up her courage, pulled into the lot and cruised slowly past the building, to see what she could see.

No obvious movements inside, no people walking around and no one in the front lobby area as she pulled up and parked. God, she was nervous. Less about him not being there, or even if someone else was there. But, more nervous if he WAS there. What would happen? Would he be glad to see her? Her thoughts of him throughout the morning decided for her. She was stopping. She had to know if he was here.

She pressed the button next to the front door. She knew from her professional life in this office the bell didn't work as often as it did. If he is inside there, he may not even hear. She waited several moments, planning another way to get his attention, IF he was inside. She stood there, in the rain, damp and cold, waiting to see him. Actually, waiting to see if he was even there. She felt somewhere between stupid and angry. Why didn't he answer the door? Why was he making her stand out in the rain?

There, in the doorway, he WAS there. She was so absorbed at looking out to the rain and being upset, she neglected to pay attention to the fact he was standing in the foyer, watching her watching the rain. He smiled and mouthed, "Sorry, we're closed" through the door. She steeled her eyes at him and yelled, "Let me in, it's freezing out here, you shit!"

He let her in the door and without hesitation gave her a warm, big bear hug. It caught her by surprise and she fairly stumbled into his arms. He gladly steadied her, holding her tight. She melted in his embrace, feeling warm and secure, protected from the cold outside. He reached up and cupped her face in his hands. His palms were warm and dry, unlike the weather. He leaned down and kissed her deeply, full on the mouth. This aggressiveness was unlike him, but today, she liked it. In fact, it was stirring the very emotions and desires she felt in the shower earlier. Warmth... longing... passion.

His kisses were becoming harder and firmer now. He snaked his tongue around hers in an oral dance. He held her tighter, his hands massaging her back through the denim material. She wedged as close to him as possible, not resisting in any way, shape or form. His massages dropped to her buns, squeezing them firmly, kneading them as only he could. She began to melt. He continued his assault with his tongue and lips, moving to her earlobe, then her neck.

He grasped her butt and pulled her into him, pressing his hardness against her. His caresses became stronger… deeper…harder. He firmly pushed her back toward the lobby wall, leaning her against the hutch next to the receptionist desk. He placed his hands firmly on her breasts rubbing through the rough denim and soft, silky lingerie. Her pulse quickened, his already racing and both were breathing sporadically now. He reached down and found the wrap in her skirt, pushing aside the blue material, finding even more warmth. A low moan escaped from her, he was in complete control now, and she wanted him to control her.

He reached under her and picked her up — pushing her against the wall. She wrapped her legs around his waist, greedily kissing him as he unleashed himself from his boxers. He reached between her legs, moving the thin, silk panel out of the way. Still kissing each other, he eased her down onto him, entering her smoothly and completely. Without hesitation, he began thrusting deeply into her, leveraging her against the wall. She hugged him around his neck and shoulders, hanging on as he continued his attack.

This was primal, this was passion, this was almost pure lust. The feelings had been bottled up too long between them. The urgency surprised them and they eagerly succumbed to it. The long wait in-between opportunities, the mental images of him in her mind all morning, the sheer joy of seeing him, his aggressiveness, the way his hips were pressing against her mound, the thin material rubbing her clit, the way her legs were wrapped, everything was adding — no — multiplying the rush of emotions and desires. In just a few minutes, both reached the ultimate connection, sharing another moment to be etched in their collective memory...

...She stepped to the back of the office to freshen up a little. When she returned, he handed her a steaming hot cup of coffee, freshly made. A warm kiss came with the hot mug. She sat on his lap in his office, cuddling, laughing and just talking for the next hour. Then too soon for either, she needed to leave. More errands, more pick-ups and deliveries. He wouldn't get much done, murmuring something about distractions. Her creative energy was now directed away from stories toward songs.

Time with him seemed to bring that out in her. Both kissed slowly, lovingly as she stepped back outside. In the hour they spent in his office, the rain stopped, the clouds dissipated and the wind was but a puff. The day was different, she decided. Perhaps she would wish for rain more often, if it meant rainbows like this.