“Yes, Christopher?” I ask in my sweetest tone.
He takes my hand and raises it to his mouth. His breath is soft over my knuckles, and the press of his lips makes my knees quiver. When he lifts his head from my fingers, he says, “The way you look makes me feel completely uncivilized. I am determined to be a gentleman, but you have to know, the leash I have on my baser instincts is starting to fray. So, as unbelievable as you look, maybe you could put something else on to help the cause.” He flashes me a devilish grin. “That is if you have any kindness within you.”
Our eyes lock and I know it’s going to be tonight. At some point, I’m going to slide over to him, press my mouth to his and ask him to take me. I’ve thought about my quest, my vows and I believe them, but I also am trying to listen to myself.
I don’t think Christopher and I are going to work out.
I don’t think we’ll last through this tropical paradise. Because the outside world is nothing like this. It has responsibilities, commitments and time restraints. He spends long hours at work, and I have things I need to do. Time I no longer want to waste on pursuits that don’t meet my long-term goals.
Maybe it’s not very modern of me, but I want a husband and kids, a house in the suburbs. I want to go to PTA meetings, and bitch about my in-laws while I push a baby on the swing at the park.
Christopher has other priorities right now and I can’t wait four or five years for those priorities to align.
But that’s okay. That’s life. And it doesn’t change what’s right in front of me, here and now. It doesn’t change wanting to give myself this night, and the next couple of nights until we have to return home to reality.
I want Christopher for me. Not to lure him, or play a game. Not to replace someone else. I want him for me. Because he’s a memory I want to give to myself. He’s someone who demands to be remembered.
I smile, and shake my head. “I like the dress. I want to wear it.”
His eyes darken. “Even though it tortures me?”
“Yeah, that’s the best reason of all.”
Christopher
It’s going to be tonight.
The truth of it fills up all the empty space at the table where Ashley and I are sitting, a darkened little corner, with a white tablecloth and candlelight flickering over her soft skin.
I’ve never seen a woman look so beautiful. Not even her on the night of the engagement party when I’d been so captivated by her. I want her so bad it borders on obsession.
I’m sitting here, on our second bottle of wine, watching her laugh, my thoughts full of all the things I’m going to do to her. I’m exerting every ounce of willpower I possess to keep from claiming her, from taking what she’s offering me in all ways, but one.
Under the table her knee brushes mine. I grasp it, stroking my fingers over the sensitive flesh between her legs.
She shudders under my touch. And everything goes still, except for my movements over her skin.
Her thighs part, inviting me higher, but I don’t accept.
She needs to ask me. Needs to tell me with her lips, and not just her body. I want to prompt her. To ask her the question that will force the words from her, but I don’t.
It has to be her choice. Her desire. It’s the only way to fulfill my promise.
She licks her lips, and parts her legs wider, shifting closer. I continue my lazy perusal but go no further.
She shimmies in her chair. Squirms. “Christopher?”
“Yes?” Is it now?
She sucks in a breath. “Do you want to dance?”
There’s soft music playing, and a small floor where couples are swaying to the slow, seductive beat. I squeeze her knee before releasing to take her hand. “I’d love to.”
Without words, the tension thick, we walk to the center of the floor and I take her in my arms. I clench my teeth as her fingers walk a path up my biceps before gripping my neck.
She tilts her head back, looking up at me. “Thank you.”
My heart skips a beat at the whispered words. “For what?”
“For being so wonderful.” She presses into me, her legs entwine with mine. “For making this trip better than I could ever have imagined.” She drops her head to my shoulder. “For making me remember.”
I hold her tighter, and it’s like she’s seeping inside me, filling up places I hadn’t realized were empty. “And what did you remember?”
She’s silent for so long I don’t think she’s going to answer me before she speaks. “Who I am. What I’m worth.”
“All I did was treat you exactly as the woman I see deserves to be treated.” I run a hand up her spine, over her shoulders to curve around her jaw and lift her face to mine. “But you’re welcome.”
Her attention drifts to my mouth and she takes a small, quick breath. “I want you.”
“I want you too.” I brush my thumb over the line of her jaw. “You have no idea how much.”
“Yes, I do.” She rises to her tiptoes and plasters herself against me. “I’m ready.”
Then she pulls my head down, kisses me.
And I’m fucking lost.