A Weekend Irl Ch 10

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was making its way down to the horizon. The reds, golds, pinks and purples were just beginning to show themselves reflected in the low and wispy clouds. He raised himself onto one elbow, looked at her lying there next to him and decided that nothing outside could look any better than the lady sleeping there beside him. Her hair fell softly across her face, and her lips were parted and barely moving, hinting that she held a secret she wanted to tell but didn’t want to let out. Her hands laid beneath her cheek, palm to palm as in prayer. The robe draped over her body did nothing to hide her silhouette, but only accentuated it with a hint of mystery.

He leaned down to kiss her neck. Her eyelids fluttered at his touch and a smile crossed her lips. She looked up at him through sleepy eyes, and her smile widened.

“Oh, good,” she said with a yawn. “I was hoping it wasn’t all just a dream.”

She stretched her arms above her head, her body in fluid motion as she stretched each muscle awake. As she moved, the robe fell away from her, the sudden air on her nipples bringing them erect. He watched her, enjoying her movements, her body, her aura. She rolled her head toward him and found him staring at her. Her nose wrinkled as she grinned at him. "What?" she asked with a giggle.

"Nothing," he replied. "Just enjoying the view."

She bit her lower lip and blushed. "Thanks."

"Oh, no," he said. "I meant the sunset." He pointed out the window behind him and laughed.

She glared and stuck her tongue out at him. He quickly leaned over to capture that little pink tongue in his mouth, sucking gently on it while his hands brushed along her body.

“No,” she whimpered. “Please no more. I can’t handle it again right now. You’ve worn me out, and I’m starved.” She laughed as she chided him.

“Hmm, I have something you could eat,” he said, but she was already up, had scooped up her robe, and was headed into the kitchen, throwing a look at him over shoulder.

In the kitchen, she pulled out the makings of an Italian dinner. “Wanna help?” she called to him.

“Sure. What can I do?” She was surprised to hear his answer coming from immediately behind her, but not surprised to feel his mouth against her neck, nuzzling back to the tender spot hidden beneath her hair. He planted kisses there, and she felt her knees go weak and her juices begin to flow. He pulled her closer, pressing his body to hers. “I like this,” he said. “Lets me get right at that little spot on the back of your neck.”

She tried to wiggle away, but he held her firmly to him as he nibbled in just the right place. She gasped as he found her hot button hidden there. “I never should have told you about that,” she whimpered, although she nestled back closer into him.

Knowing he didn’t have to hold her there any longer, his hand slipped down between her legs. “But, my dear, you seem to like it.” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement.

“Oh, no. Please stop.” Not that she really wanted him to stop, but she really was hungry.

He chuckled in her ear and whispered, “Just wanted you to know what I was thinking. Wouldn’t want you to feel ignored.”

She laughed at that thought. “I don’t think you need to worry about that. I have no doubt in my mind as to what you’re thinking. Now, will you wash up and make the salad?” She handed him a knife and pointed toward the brightly colored vegetables on the counter.

He winked at her as he took the knife from her hand and began doing as she asked. While he was busy with that, she sliced a french loaf, buttered and wrapped it and slid it into the oven along with a foil wrapped pan.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I told you I make a mean lasagna,” she grinned at him, “but I didn’t want to spend that much time cooking, so I just made it at home. I’d much rather do other things with that time.” He liked the sound of that. She opened the refrigerator and removed the bottle that didn’t even get opened the night before. “Want some wine?”

With all the prep work done for the night’s supper, all that was left was the waiting. They sat together on the couch in front of the fire, renewed by his addition of more wood, and shared the bottle until the timer signaled that dinner was ready.

Over good food and soft candlelight, they talked more than they had since they both arrived. They spoke of jobs and families, dreams for the future and interests of the present. They shared day to day happenings and frustrations, and they laughed. Oh, they laughed. They watched each other’s eyes, touched hands, listened to voices and caught nuances. It was the one thing they had wanted from this weekend more than anything else.

When the table was empty and their stomachs were full, they moved back to the fire. She relaxed against his chest, his arms circling her shoulders and his lips grazing her neck. Their glasses were refilled and, as the bottle slowly emptied, the mood in the room grew deeper with an undercurrent of emotion, until they found themselves staring silently into the flames, each lost in their own thoughts. Each was wrapped in the ponderings of what was and what wasn’t, what could and couldn’t be, of things said too soon and those left unsaid for too long. She felt his thoughts as he felt hers, each knowing the essence if not the substance of the other’s musings. And then he felt a tear fall gently on his hand, as something touched her soul.

She turned in his arms so that she could face him, see his eyes again, watch his mouth move with each word. Putting her arms around his neck, she brought her lips up to his, brushing gently at first, barely touching, then softly slipping her tongue between his lips. Softly, slowly, tenderly she allowed her lips to wander along his jaw and down his throat before moving back to kiss his lips again. She pressed her cheek to his, raising her mouth to his ear. Only her breath was heard.

He held her to him, watching her emotions play out on her face. His own conflict rose within himself as heart and mind clashed, catching soul between them. His eyes darted back and forth as he searched for answers, but cast down when he found none there. Despite the cacophony inside of their minds, all in the room stayed silent, save for the crackling and popping of the flames dancing across the logs. It was enough, just then, to simply be together.

He leaned his head back, relaxing, his eyes closed, until he felt her move. He thought at first that she was getting up, but instead she stood for only a moment, just long enough to reposition herself to straddle his lap. When she sat, her eyes level with his, she searched them deeply.

“You know,” she started, “there are a lot of things I’ve wanted to say when we were finally together in the same time and space.” She gave a small smile, her eyes turned down, suddenly shy. “Sometimes, when we were apart, I’d think of all sorts of things I wanted to talk to you about, but when I got the chance, it seemed they all just flew out the window. I guess just being cyber-together was enough sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, baby,” he answered. “I do that too.” His smile melted her heart.

She laid her head on his chest, thoughts drifting past, some floating slowly, other dashing.

He leaned his head toward her. “You’re thinking. I can feel you.”

“Uh-huh.” She didn’t say anymore.

“What are you thinking about?” His voice was warm and soft.

“Oh, nothing in particular. Just hopping from thought to thought, kinda like stepping stones in a stream.” She kept her head against him and her eyes hidden, but she knew it wouldn’t work. The clock ticked off its seconds and soon she felt his hand beneath her chin, raising her face to his and watching her eyes.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. We’ve always been open with each other. That’s important to me.” His voice coaxed her out of her shell. He knew she retreated there when she was afraid, but she was safe here.

She blinked slowly, averting her eyes and biting her lower lip to end its trembling. After taking her breath deeply in and letting it go in a tightly controlled, steady stream, she raised her lips to his ear and whispered, so softly he had to strain to hear her.

“I love you.” The words finally left her lips.

She held her breath, waiting for his reaction, afraid to look into his eyes for fear of what she might find, but needing to see every subtle bit of thought that crossed his face. Time stopped moving for her, while she waited and wondered and forced herself to meet his eyes. She didn’t have long to wait, although to her it seemed like an eternity. His strong arms pulled her close, crushing her against him, holding her tightly.

“I love you, too.” His lips captured hers in a deep, hard, soul-searching kiss. Her head began to swim and she felt the flood of emotion work its way through her, threatening to burst out and drown her. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to quell its rising, to force it back into its box only to let it go when she was ready. She looked into his eyes and saw a mirror of her own, and smiled.