Saturday, March 19, 2011

KISS ME I'M IRISH - Mar Chuid Dá (Part II)

Jillian B. Hart

She found herself very melancholy and couldn't even explain why if she had been asked.  Rather then give into the blues she fashioned on a casual emerald green dress and zipped up the knee length, spiked, black boots. Slipped into a leather jacket and headed out the door.  People watching always lifted her spirits and gave her inspiration to write.  What better night to gather in the sights.  

She sat at the bar, taking in the blur of faces on the dance floor. The festive holiday sounds emanated through the room mixed with dance tunes.  Shiny plastic four leaf clovers and green beads dangled from necks and bounced across chests in erratic and off beat motions. Choirs of "Slainte" replaced the usual shouts of cheers followed by the clinks of beer mugs.  Green beer overflowed, yet, not her drink of preference so she had ordered Bailey's straight up.  Every one was Irish today.  Yet her Irish eyes were far from smiling.  Although she had never fancied this Irish pub in the city, perhaps this wasn't the right pub to observe the happy crowds, as something about the place reminded her of times gone by. 

A finely manicured hand wrapped the glass.  She sip the creamy drink and felt it flood her with warmth. The sensation of the alcohol filling her up with a light headiness. She was so lost in thought as she took in the deluge of dancers and drinkers, that she hadn't noticed him.

He did a double take when he saw her. He had missed everything about her.  How many times had he seen her brown eyes when he closed his, remembering that night he never told her.  The night he let her say goodbye and walk out of a bar, and in essence walk out of his life. He didn't tell her.  Never told her what he should of said.  He just held it in. How were you supposed to ask someone to stay when you couldn't make any promises?  How do you ask that of a friend?  Even a friend that you loved with more passion then you were willing to admit to at the time.  That was night before she left to relocate across the country. It all flooded back, like it was days ago rather then over a decade into the past.

His heartbeat quickened.  As he took in the view across the bar.  Tendrils of hair framed her face and the bodice of her dress dipping to reveal the curves of cleavage and hug her frame.  His gaze danced over her taking in every inch that he could see, as his mind rushed to decide what action to take next.  Desire twisted inside him making his mind fill with all kinds of wickedly wild images.  A hotness flooded his groin and the blue jeans grew painfully tighter.  He started towards her, watching her perched elegantly on a stool with sparkling eyes darting around the room.

He tapped her shoulder and she turned to face him while brushing the curls from her face.  Astonishment initially flashed across her face, follow by recognition and anxious anticipation.  She held his gaze letting out a sexy breath as she began to speak.  He watched her pulse quicken at the base of her throat as he leaned in to take possession of her mouth before she could utter a word.  She went absolutely still for an instant before closing her eyes and melting into the moment.  Her lips parted more - as strong, gentle hands caressed her face.  The touch so familiar in her memory that she went breathless as she tasted the sweetness of his kiss in her mouth.  It inflamed a warmth in her that peaked between her crossed legs.  With his lips over hers, he gently sucked small dotting pecks across her maroon painted lips until their mouths instinctively opened up.  Tongues now danced in slow circular motions as he ran his fingers through her hair. Her body betraying her will to remain collected. Shivers electrified her and every emotion was released as she moaned. She was so responsive as their tongues tangled, that he thought he'd explode if he dared to imagine how she'd be when he got her alone.  His blood pulsed so fast it echoed in his ears, as goosebumps danced over her flesh awaking every erogenous zone in each of them.  Sparking a pool of moisture at the pinnacle where her thighs met. He pulled her closer and she slid off the stool pressing their bodies together.  Her scent closed over him like the first pure snow white washes a landscape. The intensity growing until she eased away and gently broke the embrace.  The sound of the crowd sobering them back to their senses.  Leaning back on his heals he gazed into her eyes waiting for feedback or retort. Long lashes curtaining the feelings smoldering in the depths of her expressive eyes. The seemingly long pause made him toy with apologizing for ravishing her in public.  But, he couldn't articulate the words, as he was only sorry that he couldn't finish what he started.  She drew a deep steady breath before she spoke.  Her voice low and sexy, a melody he'd never forgotten, sexual sparks hanging in the air, "Where have you been hiding? I've missed you..."

Her Irish eyes smiling brightly as a mischievous grin flashed across her glossy lips. She grabbed his hand and said, "Let's get out of here".

Happy Post St. Patrick's Day!
XOXOXO


      

4 comments:

  1. I can't wait to see the movie version of these stories!!

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  2. Tony, I can always count on you to talk to me!
    You know what they say about flattery....... ;)

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  3. I want to be greeted like that!! Again another winner!!

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  4. HEY NOW! That's some kinda "HELLO"!!!
    Way to work it, Jill!

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