KISS ME I'M IRISH - PART II

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

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

Editors Note: Originally Posted 3-19-11

THE CAB RIDE

JILLIAN B. HART

AFTER THE KISS

Elegant fingers intertwined with his as she fell slightly ahead of him in the mob leading him hand in hand away from the bar.  It was impulsive.  Reckless.  But, after losing herself in his kiss she was willing to abandon reason. Rushing thoughts trying to fill her with doubt. There was a time her heart had been crippled from the pain of losing him. From the pain of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons. To please the wrong people. 

They had once been so close to everything. And, then there was naught. She walked on, weaving the crowd. Nothing was greater then the risk that came with embracing this moment. Nothing greater then the loneliness that pierces your soul, behind a bright smile and a full life.

Exhilarated by the strong rhythm reverberating in her chest. She wanted her heart to keep beating like this...  To be uncontrollably aware of being alive and not just moving through motions. This was the type of moment, that affirms that heaven does exist. Makes you believe, that right here, in this moment is where you are supposed to be. The moment you know and say to yourself, “all I need is this right now”.

She looked back over her shoulder as they neared the exit.  Meeting his glance, her pulse quickened and a void inside her seemed to diminish with each passing second.  Years melting away as a connection of heart, mind, and soul, seized to the forefront in an instant. The frenzy of looming passion teased at all of his senses.  His loins aching a he moved closer to her, both of them pausing in the flood of people waiting to exit and enter the bar.  A few more steps and the multitude of the holiday horde was left behind them.  The pub music fading while the sounds of the city at night overwhelmed them.

She felt her breath catch in her throat. No plan had been erected, yet it was evolving with every step that they took on the noisy avenue.  She knew there was no turning back.  Nor did she want to, she’d not turn away from this again. Slightly shivering as the voice in her head silently shouted, “No regrets”.  Just the stroke of his thumb on the back of her hand excited her libido as her nipples tingled and tightened under silk camisole beneath her dress.  

She released his hand and stepped off the curb. Stiletto boots clicking the pavement with each stride.  As her long garnet painted nails lead her hand into the air, her voice loud, throaty and untamed, “Taxi”.

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. 

BUSINESS TRIP Part VII- HART'S DESIRE

Flooded With Flashbacks... Continued

Have you ever wished for a night that would never end?

Jillian B. Hart

...the phone rang and she lit up at the sound of his voice. 

“Sorry, work kept me later then planned.  Still up for going out?”

“Yes, ...of course, been waiting for your call!” He could hear the smile through the phone lines.  

“We’ll have a drink, or something... pick you up soon.”

Soon seemed forever.  She’d been ready and waiting.  Grabbed her bar purse and tucked a lipstick inside. Slipped on her favorite white leather boots and darted down the stairs. 

“Going out?” 

“Yes, Daddy.”

“With who?”

She smiled and swayed her head gently back and forth.  “You know who, Daddy.”  His expression beamed approval.  “It’s already late.  Make sure he walks you in.”  Rolling her eyes and laughing, “Always Daddy.”  

BUSINESS TRIP - Part VI - Hart's Desire

Flooded With Flashbacks

Have you ever wished for a night that would never end?

Jillian B. Hart

His eyes locked on her, taking in the droplets hanging in the hair that caught the light and reflected like diamonds dancing around her. She could feel herself shaking inside.  His touch, his kiss, leaving her feeling weak and slightly faint. It was incomprehensible.  Them being so in sync. Feelings so in unison. After scads of time had escaped them.  After their lives had ceased to be merged in any way, shape, or form for years.  Studying him, she dared to fathom and acknowledge that he was still the one. Still the one that she dreamed of - the one, a part of her heart had always continued to love.  She knew a part of her heart would forever belong to him.  

In the gentle drizzle, the moonlight fell on the cityscape of buildings beyond the bridge where it slipped through the shroud of clouds.  Darting in and out across the distance like the impassioned feelings chasing across the immediate atmosphere between them. Words eluded them as their eyes flitted across each other’s silhouettes as if to memorize the face before them.  Every meeting glance leaving them more entranced between the recollection of abundant memories and the reality that stood before them.  A reality theirs for the taking at this moment if they melted into this instant and lost control.  All she had always waited for stared back at her.  She saw before her every dream that she had longed to come true.  Her eyes fell closed under the overwhelming intensity of it all, as the voice in her head wished for this night to never end.  

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.