In the Heat of Passion

It was a warm July evening, warmer than usual. There was a faint breeze, but it allowed no comfort from the humidity. The winters in Hennepin County, which encompassed the city of Minneapolis, were bad enough, but the unusual summer heat was more than she could bear. Heather had tossed and turned for the past few hours unable to fall asleep. She tried to convince herself it was from the heat, but deep down inside her she new the real reason for the sleepless night.

Heather rolled over and looked at the clock, it read 2:30 A.M. and she still hadn't been to sleep. She felt disgusted and laid her head on the pillow. The questions drilled into her mind like a screw. Am I really ready for this? Am I too young? Should I wait a little while longer? Will this really make me happy and complete? Heather had had enough. She got up, put her robe on, and headed downstairs.

She met Bourbon, her loyal companion of 5 years, at the bottom of the staircase. Bourbon raised his head abruptly, a growl rumbling low in his throat. Heather looked down at him, It's me silly. Not moving a muscle, he sat there and just looked at her. Heather shook her head and walked over him. Not knowing exactly what she was looking for, Heather headed towards the kitchen.

She stood in the middle of the room looking around; nothing caught her eye. Not extremely hungry she opted for a drink, a drink of what though? She opened the refrigerator door, but didn't see anything that appealed to her. Closing it as she walked away, a bottle in the dining room caught her eye. She knew that was what she was craving. Heather opened the liquor cabinet and pulled out a glass and the bottle of scotch. Heather stepped down the carpeted steps to the living room. It was a tasteful, simple, classy room. White walls decorated with

wood sconces and primitive portraits. The back wall was taken up by a bay window, the center section of which was a door that opened onto a deck. Opposite the window, a railing ran some 8 feet, providing a graceful spot to look down on the living room below. With a flick of a switch the brass table lamps filled the room with muted light. Heather made her way to a sturdy overstuffed chair and sat down.

Exhausted, she sat sipping on her drink trying to rationalize her fears. Can I really go through with it, she thought. Am I just being paranoid? What ever it was, it was eating her alive. Heather found herself sitting in front of her computer. She bought if for work but never spent much time on it. At first she stared at the blank screen, not knowing if she should turn it on or not. All she knew was that she had to focus her energy on something else than her problems or she would never get to sleep. Heather went from one boring page to another. Nothing seemed to hold her attention very long. The she recalled a friend telling her about a chat room on yahoo. Chat rooms weren't exactly Heather's type, but it was late and she had to relax and clear her mind.

The chat room was crowded; at least sixty people were in there. The posts were going by so fast she couldn't keep up, so she decided to sit back and just watch. She kept a close watch on one particular chatter though, for some reason he caught her eye. Before long she found herself striking up a conversation with him. It started out innocently enough, but by the middle of their conversation she found herself fascinated with him. Heather could feel his energy coming through the screen. Seductive. The word wrapped itself around her like curling fingers of smoke. She needed to know more about him. She hung on to his every word, wanting more. Needing more.

She glanced up at the clock; she couldn't believe what time it was. She thought to herself, It can't be 5:30 already. Where did the time go? She had to be at work at 7:30, and she still hasn't slept.

Apologizing for her abrupt exit, Heather told him she had to go. Before she could tell him goodbye he said, Wait, I don't even know your name! She paused, Exactly, lets leave it that way too, OK? Heather didn't want to leave it that way, but she knew it was for the best. He sat quietly for a few minutes then replied, Will I see you again? I don't think so Heather replied. I usually don't come into chat rooms, I just needed to clear my head for awhile. Well, did it work?

Yes it did, but like I said, the chatting is a one time deal for me. Well in any case, it was nice to meet you he responded. I hope you get everything worked out. I will, and it was nice to meet you as well. With that said, Heather clicked of the computer. She sat in front of it almost frozen, wanting to go back to him. But she knew better, she couldn't allow herself to be caught up in him, she just couldn't. The alarm on the clock snapped her consciousness. She hurried upstairs and got into the shower.

* * * * *

Heather? A low voice murmured. Earth calling Heather, Come in

Heather! She jumped up, Huh! Sorry, I was lost in thought. I can see that he replied. Anything I can do to help? No, I'll get it all sorted out, but thanks anyway. Steven kissed her forehead softly. If there is anything I can do, just let me know. I will, she said softly. Even though she knew she could never talk to him about this.

How could she tell Steven that her thoughts and desires were focused on a man she spent only a few hours with in a chat room. Hell, she didn't even know his name. Nevertheless, Heather couldn't get him out of her mind. The few hours they did spend together awoke something in her she thought was long gone. Heather tried to snap herself out of it, but thoughts ran through her mind. I can't be thinking about him, it's not fair to Steven. But he is so intriguing. Kind of Dangerous in a way, almost Forbidden.

As Heather drove home that night her thoughts remained on the mystery man. She Couldn't allow herself to be caught up in him. Heather wanted more though, more than she could ever imagine. A fire burnt inside her, warm, tingling, passionate. Could she honestly put the flame out? Was it more than she could handle?

When she arrived at home Bourbon was waiting for her as usual. Tail wagging, jumping around, happy to see her. Heather sat down next to him and gave him a sad look. Looks like it's just you and me again tonight boy, she murmured. She longed to have someone to come home to, but now that it was in her reach, she wasn't sure if she wanted it anymore. At least not with Steven. She loved Steven dearly, but the thought still plagued her. Am I ready

for this huge step? He was everything she always wanted; kind, giving, funny, and handsome; very handsome. He stood five feet ten, jet-black hair; short and neat, a picture perfect face square, rugged, utterly masculine, perpetually tanned. His eyes were the color of espresso, set deep beneath the ledge of his brow. Yet she still wondered if she was making the right choice.

Heather finished her dinner then curled up in her favorite chair to read a book. No matter what diversion she tried, she could't keep her mind off of him. Giving in to the temptation, she found herself sitting in front of her computer once again. Am I actually going through with this, she thought. This isn't right, I can't do this. The desire to see him again was too deep though, she turned on the computer. He probably won't even be

around. No biggie, I'll just go in and take a look around. To her surprise and delight, he was on. Her heart raced in excitement. The very thought of him gave her goose bumps. Playing it cool she sat in the chat room, not saying a word, waiting to see if he noticed her. Before she could think of what to do next, Hello Crystal came across the screen. Heather chose Crystal_eyes as her chat name remembering her fathers statement when she was little. My, your eyes are like crystal, so bright and cheerful. The name kind of stuck with

her through her childhood after that. Heather froze, not knowing if she should respond, but before she could think about it too long, she found herself typing hello back.

Their conversation lasted for hours. Getting to know each other better, laughing at ridiculous jokes, talking about nothing at all. Heather felt so comfortable talking to him. He made her feel at ease, so relaxed. He wanted to more about her; she wasn't the kind of woman who offered those insights freely. Yet she found herself giving into his charms, telling him everything. Do you have a picture? he asked. Why? So I can see what you look like. No, I'm sorry, I don't. Would you like to have one of me? Here hearted pounded under her shirt. She craved to see what he looked like, in her mind she pictured him a million times. Now she had her chance, would she take it?

* * * * *

Heather stood at the bay window that rose to a peak in the main wall of the living room and stared out at a harsh white landscape. Ryans Bay, is what it was called, though it wasn't a bay at all but an area of sloughs out on the edge of nothing, west of the part of Forest Lake. Whatever water the bay held lay secret beneath the dunes of snow, a frozen desert, bleak and uninviting. Blond weeds and cattail stalks rose through the drifts to flutter in the bitter wind.

The nearest house was a quarter mile off to the north, hidden by a thick stand of pine trees. To the east she could the last Forest Lake neighborhood that straggled out to the edge of the marsh and farm fields, small square houses with smoke curling up from their chimneys into the winter-white sky. The spires of St. Valentines Catholic Church rose above the rooftops, a pair of lances thrusting toward heaven. They seemed a long way from where she stood, though

she reckoned it wasn't more than three quarters of a mile. There was a sense of isolation here that had little to do with distance.

After 6 months of speaking with Jay on the computer, the day had finally came for them to meet. Heather couldn't believe she was actually going to go through with it. What am I thinking? I'm engaged to Steven. I Shouldn't be doing this. But her thoughts fell on hollow ground. She had to see Jay, touch him, and look into his eyes. She arranged for them to meet at a local bar, subconsciously knowing it was safer to meet him in a public place. As Heather drove to Jeromes she felt anxious, not knowing what to expect. She left early enough so she could be the first one there, give her time to settle down and relax. Heather sat down at a table for two feeling a little more at ease. She was only there for about 10 minutes when Jay walked

in. He stood in the doorway and took a quick look around. Jay spots Heather and they make instant eye contact. She stands up and walks slowly towards him, they meet each other half way. Heather looks up at him and smiles. Hello Jay, how was your trip? It was good, he said in a low smoky voice. I have a table ready for us. Great, lets sit down. They stayed at Jeromes for a drink and caught up with what was going on in each others lives. Heather tried to make it seem like her full attention was on what he was saying, but the whole time all she could think about was how much she wanted to feel him, kiss him.

After their drink Heather suggested they go back to her place. My Jimmy is parked right outside, you can leave your car here, she said softly. They turned off Old Cedar Road and drove into the development area around Ryans Bay. The moon was waxing towards fullness, its light casting the bay in otherworldly shades of silver and white. Heather had biked the trails out here many times in warm weather, had always felt a certain park like comfort about the area. She turned the Jimmy into the driveway and hit the remote switch to raise one door on a three-car garage. Without a word to Heather, Jay left her

the kitchen and walked through the living room to the bay window that looked out on the frozen countryside. He could here hear her pouring drinks, then, nearer, starting a fire in the fireplace. Whiskey and soda, she said, handing him a glass. She sat hers on the ledge and leaned her shoulder against the window frame. She had turned no lights on in the room, letting the fire and the moonlight provide all they needed. Darkness seemed to bring out the moods in her.

Heather left the glass on the window ledge beside him and moved slowly toward the fireplace. The house was cold, despite the fire, a kind of cold she associated with emptiness, with loneliness. She hadn't realized he was so close, close enough to raise his hand and touch her cheek. Close enough to draw her to him with just a look, with just the longing in his blue eyes. He leaned down and kissed her, his lips warm and tasting of whiskey.

My God, I want you, Heather, he whispered. I can't. I'm ………

This has nothing to do with that. Sliding a hand into her hair, he undid the clip that held it back. It fell free around her shoulders. This is just us, he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple. It's just I need to touch you. Let me touch you, Heather.

His vulnerability touched her. The yearning in his smoky voice touched her. The attraction that had sparked inside her from the first flared up as hot and bright as the flames on the fire. He was nothing she had been looking for. She wasn't a woman given to fits of passion. She didn't lower her guard. But even as his lips brushed her cheek, she could feel logic slipping away.

She made one last, halfhearted reach for it, drawing a breath for the voice of reason. Jay seemed to sense the words before she could form them. He touched a forefinger to her lips. Don't think, he whispered. Not tonight.

Please.

Please. They could have this night, cross this line. There would be no going back. There would likely be regrets, but those were in the grays mists of the future, and they didn't outweigh the need to connect, to touch, and to shut out the rest of the world for a few hours. Heather closed her eyes as he framed her face in his hands and kissed her again, deeper, slower. She let her mouth open beneath the pressure of his, allowed him access, and shivered as he took it. He drew her away from the wall. She slid her hands up the front of his

shirt and brought them back down, parting the buttons from their moorings.

Impatient for the feel of her hands on his skin, he slipped the shirt off and tossed it aside, pulled his dark T-shirt off over his head and flung it away. The firelight played over the ridges and planes of muscle in his chest. His shoulders were broad, in the way a man who did physical work. Heather touched her fingertips to his belly, felt the muscles quiver beneath them. She raised her hand slowly and placed it over his heart. She spread her fingers and felt his heartbeat. Leaning into him, she pressed a kiss where her hand had rested.

Then Jay's mouth was on hers again, hotter, hungrier.

They sank to their knees together. His fingers stumbled down the line of buttons on her blouse. He pushed the blouse and her cardigan off her shoulders without completing the task, the need to see her, to taste her, too urgent. She hadn't bothered with a bra. Her breasts were there for the taking, the color of cream, the texture of silk, and a size that filled his palms perfectly. He cupped them together, rubbing his thumbs across the rosy buds at their center,

the need snapping inside him like a whip as they hardened beneath his touch. Bending her back over his arm, he lowered his head to take one tightened peak between his lips.

The sensation was electric. A gasp caught in Heather's throat. She clutched at his shoulders, then his head, raking her fingers through his short hair, pulling him tighter against her. The need for this act, for this man, burned within, wild, hot, and too intense. She hand never known what it was to let go of her self-control completely, but she felt it sliding away from her now. The feeling was terrifying and exhilarating at once.

He lifted his head and looked at her, his lower lip slick and shining, the pupils of his eyes huge, ringed with neon blue. He looked uncivilized, as if the same fire in her had seared away the thin veneer of manners he wore in public, revealing what she had sensed all along was at the core of him something dangerous, untamed, raw. He moved away from her for a moment, and the sudden absence of his body heat left her feeling cold. She pulled her blouse together over her breasts as she watched him snatch the thick blanket from the couch and spread it open in front the fireplace. The he offered his hand.

She stood, passive, as he undressed her. He freed her arms from the blouse and sweater, caressing her shoulders, her back, and her belly. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of the leggings she wore and drew them slowly down her hips, kneeling at her feet to remove them. All thoughts of being cold vaporized as he reached up and inched her silk panties down, following their decent with his mouth. He pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to the soft spot below her navel as

he slid his hands around to cup her buttocks, then dragged the kiss lower to the tender area just below the delta of red curls, the lower.

Heather gasped at the touch of his lips, at the bold probing of his tongue. She tried to step back, but he held her easily, his finger stroking, kneading, pulling her closer, and tilting her hips into the shocking intimacy of his kiss.

The intensity of the pleasure stunned her, scared her, swept her toward a towering precipice and left her hanging there. An involuntary whimper of frustration escaped her as Jay pulled her down to the floor with him and pulled her hard against him. He shared the taste of her own desire with her. She ran her hands along the taut muscles of his back, his arms, feeling his strength. His urgency seemed to feed her own. When he rose on his knees to unfasten his trousers se rose with him, pushed his hands away from his belt and unbuckled it herself. Her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned his khakis and eased the zipper down. She touched him through the fine silk of his boxers, savored the feel of his hardness beneath the whisper softness of the fabric.

Jay tolerated her delicate teasing with gritted teeth, holding on to his control until he could stand it no longer. He wanted her, needed more than the tentative feather touches she was giving him. Jesus, Heather, touch me, he rasped, closing her hand around his shaft, guiding it slowly up and down the length of him. Feel what you do to me how much I want you.

A sense of feminine power swelling inside her, Heather followed his commands, savoring the feel of him in her hand. Hot, hard, thick, pulsing. She traced her fingertips over the tip of him and found a spot that made him suck his breath in through his teeth. With his hand still curved over hers, she reached down and cupped him, and a shudder rippled through his whole body. He drew away just long enough to get his pants and fish a condom out of his wallet. He came back to her ready, eager, the muscles in his arms trembling as he braced himself over her.

She arched up to meet him. Her eyes drifted shut as he entered her. Her body tightened around him like a fist. Sweet heaven, he groaned, fighting the instinctive urge to possess, to bury himself in a single stroke. Relax for me, sweetheart, he whispered, slowly drawing her leg up along his thigh. He slid a hand beneath her hip and lifted her into him, allowing himself to sink deeper, closer to oblivion. She caught her breath, then let go a sigh of pure sensual pleasure. Slowly, erotically, they moved together, without words, the glow of the fire gilding their bodies.

Heather let go of the self-restraint that was so much a part of her, shivering inside at the idea of her own vulnerability. Jay felt as if his soul were just an inch from hers, staining to connect in a way that was primal, more than physical, deeper than anything he'd known in a long time. More the he'd bargained for in coming to this place.