He was there. A flush of warmth spread over her face and upper body as she smiled and handed her coat to the clerk at the front. She took a deep breath and tried to maintain a nonchalant walk as she headed into the room and glanced around for the bar, yet she couldn't help feeling that she looked stiff and well, nervous.
Making it to the bar was a challenge of winding through people, but a drink was crucial at the moment, something to do with her hands. She took the drink and turned, looking for a free spot to stand and peruse the crowd. Despite trying to be thorough and look over the entire room, her gaze immediately swept to the left, where she had seen him upon entering. Her glance landed on his own eyes, looking back at her, and she jerked her eyes away, the flush growing anew.
She shifted on her feet and taking a sip of the cocktail, slipped a peek over the rim again. He was still looking at her and this time he smiled, obviously completely ignoring the talk of the gentleman next to him, before he turned to him, offered an excuse and started to walk across the room to her. She swallowed and waited.
They smiled at one another when he came close. A shaky "hello" left her lips and other cordial meaningless talk followed. It was their third meeting, nothing momental at each, but enough to keep her awake each night following, images of more intimate encounters occupying her brain.
An announcement was made that the dinner would be served. They smiled at each other, he indicating her to walk forward, and she felt another jolt of heat as his fingers rested against her bare back, guiding her to the dining room. She sat next to him. So much for eating at this meal. She picked at the food, not tasting anything, the smell of him next to her intoxicating. His knee kept bumping against her thigh until finally, he let it rest there against her. She shifted her legs, ever aware of the heat rising along her thighs at him touching her. Her whole body tingled.
Resting his elbows on the table, he turned and leaned in close to speak with her. The room was a little loud, but she could have easily heard without him leaning in. She noticed the frequent glance to her lips and maybe a flicker lower. It renewed her interest in her food as she lingered over an item of food at her mouth, hoping to draw his eyes again, and she did. He stopped talking and smiled and watched her eat.
Someone rose to speak and the two of them had to look to the speaker, but a large warm hand had lowered beneath the table and rested on his own thigh, the back of the hand brushing her leg. She shifted again in the seat and his hand moved to rest over her knee. Her lips parted and she looked up to the ceiling, trying madly to control her breath.
She felt as if every inch of his body were touching hers, enveloping hers, smothering her – but it was only his palm resting lightly on her knee. And he moved it. He caressed her knee at the edge of her dress, the fingers slipping just beneath the material to touch more of her thigh. She slipped her own hand down to run along the top of his wrist, over the top of his hand, tracing each vein that stood out from his hand, finally gliding between his fingers and urging his hand a little further up her thigh.