Ms. Jillian B. Hart
Still at Shay's Pub... Continued...
When a waiter paused by the table, he asked, “Would you like a drink?”
“I’ll have one of what you’re having.” She responded. To heady to think of a better answer. More wine arrived and she was secretly thankful not to be mixing drinks on a stomach empty, yet filled with butterflies.
Night was falling quickly. The sunlight waned into an ultramarine sky. The reflection of the neo-classical brick bridge was fading into the St. Charles River except where modern lighting decorated the view. The glow of windows of the nearby Harvard buildings began dotting the horizon.
She found herself focused on the sound of the New York accent, helplessly drawn to his voice as if it was that of an angel. The clamor of street sounds dissolved into the background, she was engaged in all that he said. Conscience to stay in the moment and not allow her mind to wander to where to this was going or the what ifs. Certainly he fought to do the same, although his steady, steamy gaze never let on otherwise. The conversation swung between frivolous and flirtatious. Just enough comic relief to calm the erotic powers hanging in the air between them.
A cool breeze wisps by -- filled with an aphrodisiac sweetness of the local blooms. Apple blossom petals dancing through the air and dusting the patio around them.
“Your cold” he says.
“I’m always cold when I’m nervous.”
Realising that she said it out loud, she felt the heat rise on her neck as her cheeks flushed. Relaxing momentarily when she saw him smile. His hand reached across the small table. She gave a start at his touch but settled as he continued to stroke her arm gently.
He leaned closer to her saying, “Why are you nervous? Don’t be nervous.”
He was close enough to count the colors in his dark chocolate eyes. Her chest was heaving enticingly as she breathed and searched her mind for a clever response. Watching him examine her plunging neckline on the simple black dress as it rose and fell, made her pulse quicken. To fill the pause she pressed her leg against his under the table. Struggling to respond she found herself speechless and “hated” it - as it was such an uncommon occurrence. Yet, on the same token, she “loved” that he could do that to her. He could always do that to her. Thoughts flew through her head like cars on an LA freeway. The strongest one questioning if this night would turn the illusions of her dreams and fantasies into something real.
His chest stretched the fabric of his shirt across his muscular frame as he shifted his weight in the seat. Understanding the subtle invitation she slipped her foot from the strappy heel and positioned it to nestle gently between his thighs. Working with a massaging motion she was rewarded with the victory of feeling flesh become rock hard beneath her touch. Enjoying the anticipation that ran through her body at the perception of the sudden hardness, her nipples thrust against the lace of the camisole and there was no hiding that attention under the light summer dress.
It was not an awkward silence but there were still no words as their eyes met and held a strong glance until she looked away as the intensity seemed to steal the breath from her lungs. She could see a lifetime that never happened reflected in his eyes. As her own betrayed her and allowed a tear to escape. Hoping he’d ignore it. She went to speak but the words were lost as he brushed the glistening drop from her skin and gently lifted her face so she had to meet his eyes. His touch both igniting heat and soothing at once. He tenderly pulled her slightly closer as he spoke.
“Stop thinking so much.” The words weren’t cold, just raw with honesty.
She always admired his ability to be truthful with his interactions with her. No matter how complicated. As if reading her mind he continued.
“The world where we exist together is not black and white...”
She finishes the sentence for him, “... it never has been.”
He smiles, and she knows full well, that it’s because, in spite of the time, distance and circumstance they can still complete each others thoughts. He whispers, his breath warm on her face.
“Concentrate on feeling -- Concentrate on what your body is telling you.”
Not even aware that she had been holding her breath, she exhales with a powerful rush of air and blushes, closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip. He laughs, and her eyes open as a smile widens across her face despite her attempt to stifle it. She laughs too.
“If only it was funny”, she manages to say breathlessly.
He rubs his jaw, covered in a sexy shadow of whiskers as he thinks for a moment. Although distracted by the constraint and pulsing feeling in his pants he stands, takes her hand and guides her to her feet.
“Come on, let’s go for a walk in the Yard.”
Enchanted by the feeling of her hand in his she is delighted at the thought of walking in the moonlight together just like memories from long ago. Insignificantly shivering from the butterflies and the cool New England air she falls into step with him.