EXCERPT FROM BOOK IN PROGRESS ~ LOVE LETTER
The door clicked closed, leaving Rich and Lauren alone with the night sprawled out ahead of them and the realization that Wally wouldn’t be coming back. Trauma sometimes acted as an accelerate much like fuel to a spark. The two of them had the spark, had gone through the trauma, yet they did not rush at each other, did not offer themselves up to instant conflagration. They had waited so long, an entire adult life to find what was now in their grasp. No obstacles stood between them, except an admission, and that admission had ripened to a sweetness that longed to be relished, appreciated, enjoyed.
At first, they discussed the events that passed, and the certainty that the culprits would soon be caught, they had a bite to eat, cleaned up, swapped a few old jokes, laughing as if they were new, watched an old movie. During it all, they touched, unhurried caresses, fingertips trailing over flesh, kisses soft, lingering but not intense.
“Acky? Hurting? Need to ease some tension? Possibly something hot?” she asked as the credits rolled on the wide screen.
He turned off the television. “Hmmm, is there an offer in there somewhere?”
“Maybe…” Her face had that teasing look, a look that he had come to love.
“Tell me.”
“Jacuzzi.”
He looked disappointed.
“It’s in the spa room.”
“A little hot for…”
“You're not afraid of a little heat, are you?"
His look was chiding. "Don't have a suit."
"Don't need one." She slipped out of her sundress, being braless all she had left was her panties and she stepped out of them. Her beauty caught him as it always caught him, that flamboyant tattoo dominating her back, the way her body moved with grace and fluidity, the tiny perk to her nose and the lushness of her mouth, not quite full, but pump, ready to be kissed, and the haunt of her eyes, such joy contrasting with such sadness. How could anyone look like that, full of zest yet still that distinct yet nearly buried sorrow. He wanted, needed to torch it away. Would he be enough to fill its spot, to saturate it fully with all the love he planned to pour inside her?
Suddenly, all the leisurely ease that had transpired vanished as exigency took hold within him. He flung off his T-shirt and yanked off his shorts and briefs.
Glancing over her shoulder she first offered a come-hither-wink, and then couldn't help a small laugh at his urgency. "It's not going anywhere."
"Neither am I," he said with such intimacy, such intensity that all humor vanished from Lauren. There was something in her look that boasted proud, implied a dare, but there was also a vulnerability, a plea that spoke of pain she dare not revisit, that pain of loss. And he would not allow it. He would protect her, protect himself for her, and he said again. “I’m not going anywhere, Lauren.”
“You think that, but…”
“No where. You’re the reason I have a heart, girl. You’re woken my soul, and you found my spirit. And if you ran away, I’d come with you. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
She stood there in the glow of lamplight, the glory of her nakedness cast into soft shadows, and pale illuminations, looking so young, in some ways too young, for all her experience, she hadn’t experienced this. “Say what you mean,” she said, so low as to be more a swab of syllables than actual words.
He moved toward her, a half step, a full one, a little swifter, and then there, right there, close enough to touch her, to take her, to kiss her, and show her what he meant, but he knew she needed the words, and he needed to say them.
“I love you.”
A small intake of breath, a half-gulp, but no response.
“I love you, Lauren Pike,” he said once more, his hands cupping her face, thumbs brushing at cheeks. “I love you,” he repeated, with a deep throatiness, a fullness of sound as if in having said it once, he couldn’t stop saying it again and again, as if he were trying to brand her with the words, make it so she could never deny them, so when the sun rose on the new day, she couldn’t say she heard wrong, couldn’t think it a dream. He wanted to make certain they seared her heart. That the truth was as apparent as truth could ever be. “I… Love… You…”
Wet washed her eyes. She blinked it away, walked toward the spa room, “I’ll turn on the spray.”
He didn’t understand her reaction. He supposed he expected something in return, love you, too, would have been nice, but even I think I’m falling for you would have be all right. Nothing left him hesitant in some way, yet he followed, entered the air conditioned room, actually felt a chill prick his flesh as he watched her, lighting candles positioned on a low table, on the rim around the built in hot tub, clusters of candles, flames bursting, flicking. One wick after another came to life. His usual phobia about this dangerous array would have normally had him blowing out the flames faster than she could light. He understood the hazard, and fire had already been too much a part of their world, and death had stalked her twice already, was this taking chance a little too far. But he knew she saw this as fire contained, and at this moment, he couldn’t see beyond her.
A small nearly shy smile so unlike her appeared as she stepped into the bubbling, iridescent brew. It was as if he saw a glimpse of the child she had been, the one she was before she had lost a beloved grandmother, saw a ghost. The young adult who lost both parents to the Vulgan god, this same girl who became a woman who emulated her grandmother, and defied that same god of flames by learning to control and play with fire. Lauren was the most beautiful spirit he had ever met, and the very one he wanted in his forever after.
He followed her into the pool, sat on the seat, all the while watching her. She slipped under the water, came back up. He saw the tears that she tried to hide with the water dunk. She pushed at her hair. Wet and slicked back, it brought out her features, make her green eyes greener, her lashes spiky, cheeks more prominent, and her lips more lush. His breathing became tight as he moved toward her, placed his hands on either side of her shoulders, brought his face close to hers, and continued to stare. Nearly kissed her but didn’t, close enough to feel warmth, to nearly taste her, positioning his head one way, and then the other, as if toying with the idea of a kiss. “I love you,” he breathed into her mouth. “You’re my fire, my flame, you burn through me, take away my breath, sear my soul, and I love you. I never loved before you. I’ll never love after you. And I’m going to make love to you Lauren. It won’t be sex. It will be love. It will be tenderness, and sweetness, and passion, bonding, completion. Do you understand?”
Lauren who had words to spare, who knew what to say, when to say it and how to put the blunt in brusque, just nodded. Her emotions, though, were there to see, almost tangible, almost a sound that competed with the pop and gurgle of the water. Unlike her, he didn’t need the words. Her inability to speak told him of her love, told him she wouldn’t stop his touch, his kiss, his physical love.
So, he kissed her.
Kissed her.
Again, and again, harder and harder.
SCENE CONTINUES NEXT WEEK
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at angelicahartandzi@yahoo.com and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi
KILLER DOLLS ~ SNAKE DANCE ~ CHASING YESTERDAY ~ CHRISTMAS EVE...VIL coming soon
www.champagnebooks.com
Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
STEEL EMBRACE http://www.carnalpassions.com/
THE FABLE OF SIN-SIN CINDERELLA Series
angelicahartandzi.com
TheWritersVineyard.com (monthly piece)
www.champagnebooks.blogspot.com(monthly piece)
Dawn's Reading Nook (Thursday's piece)
lovesbooksandmore.blogspot.com/
No comments:
Post a Comment