As Cecelia is sitting on the stiff bed staring at the dingy white hotel sheets, she can't help but to feel embarrassed about what she is about to do. She wraps her arms around her quivering stomach as she tries to put thoughts of being discovered out of her racing mind.
Did she plan the event well enough? Was she even sure that this would be worth the risk? The soft knock at her hotel door stops her mind in it's' process.
Cecelia is motionless, paralyzed by her uncertainty. She thinks to her self that she could just not answer the door. She hears a knock again but this time it is louder and more impatient.
This is the event that she had planned for, and dreamt of for years. An event that had so enraptured her mind that all else seemed to be just a roadblock on the path to this destination. Now after having put so much of her time and thought into this was she really going to allow her fear to stop it from happening?
There was no more time to deliberate as she heard two more gentle knocks on the door followed by the heavy melodious voice of a man.
"If you want me to go away I can."
She desperately wants to say, "No" but as she tries her speech fails her.
"Are you shy in there? It's okay if you are shy."
Cecelia can hear his smile through the door. Something about the richness of his tone calms the quivering in her belly and she slowly gets herself to her feet.
"There is nothing wrong with being shy," he coos. Cecelia is now making her way to the door. She is managing, for now, to quiet the fearful monologue in her mind as she follows the sound of the strangers' voice. Once she is at the door she reaches out and places her hand on the doorknob and her body becomes stiff. On cue as if sensing her body's petrified state the voice speaks again.
"We could just talk. There is no reason to be shy if all you are going to do is have a little talk." Before her mind is able to think another thought she opens the door. Cecelia is taken a back by what she sees standing in the door way before her.
The gentleness of his smile is in puzzling contrast to his frame. He is tall and thick, and his blue eyes seem to be glowing with electricity. The man before her is what Cecelia would have dreamt the archangel of war Michael to look like. She thinks to herself "I asked for a man and they have sent me a God."
He is amused by her admiration of his features. The man allows his admiration to be known by broadening the smile on his pale white face and flashing her, the dimple on his right cheek. She gives him a quick and embarrassed smile.
"Please come in," she says backing away from the door but still holding the knob trying to give him some space to walk past her. However instead of taking advantage of the extra room she has made for him he walks as close to her as physics allow, purposefully bumping his body into hers.
His intentioned bump knocks her slightly off balance and she reaches out to grab his forearm in order to steady herself. Once she has regained her balance she looks up into his eyes, she is unable to speak.
"Are you steady now?" The only response that Cecelia can manage is a nodding of her head. He again flashes her, his dimpled smile.
"You should close the door." She obeys him and shuts the door, but continues to hold on to the knob. He walks through the hallway into the hotel bedroom and stops just in front of the floor length window.
"This is a lovely view," he says than he shuts her blinds. Cecelia watches in silence as he walks over to the bed and sits down. He slowly runs his large hand over the comforter admiring its' texture. He than takes off the black wool blazer that he is wearing and holds it out in front of him in Cecelia's direction.
She walks over to him and takes the blazer from him. She turns around and leans over to neatly lay the expensive looking blazer on the arm chair across from the bed. As she stands up she is able to see his reflection in the black screen of the television; he is smiling again.
"Come and sit next me." Cecelia reluctantly does as she is asked. Her entire body is tense not sure of what is to come next. He rests his right hand on her left knee and his touch makes her inhale sharply.
"What is your name?" His voice is almost at a whisper and his tone reminds her of moan.
She shakily whispers, "Cecelia." He slides the soft fingers of his left hand under her knee and kneads the delicate skin there as he moves his face closer to hers.
"Pleased to meet you Cecelia, my name is Otto." Her skin begins to tingle because she can feel his breath on her neck as he speaks. Otto pushes his hand up the inside of her thigh and under her black cotton dress. He stops his hand just before it reaches her black lace covered lips. She quickly reaches down and grabs his wrist trying to push his hand the rest of the way up to her throbbing lips, but his large hand will not budge. She turns her head towards him pleading with her brown eyes; he simply smiles.