As I stood motionlessly, unable to form a coherent response to his greeting, he stepped close to me. He grabbed each side of the unbuttoned dress shirt hanging from my shoulders, then bent to touch his lips to mine. Thoughts and feelings battled within me. Was he going to try to take off the shirt? I should stop him. I’m not ready for that. Yet at the same time every inch of me responded to his touch, emphatically screaming for more.
My own internal debate raged, my integrity attempting to douse the flames of my desire as effectively as using a thimble to put out a forest fire.
Before either side could claim victory he pulled away, a playful grin on his face adding to my confusion. Looking down I realized he had fastened the shirt around me, brining a mixture of relief and disappointment. How could he have caused such dichotomy within me? This was definitely unlike anything I’d experienced before.
He reached for my hand and entwined his fingers with mine. Holding my gaze intently he filled the silence that threatened like storm clouds in the distance. “I brought lunch out on the balcony. How’s your foot feeling?”
My foot? I looked down. I hadn’t thought about my foot since I had woken up. Pressing my weight onto it I realized it didn’t hurt at all. “It’s fine.” I told him.
He led me to the balcony where he’d set out an array of fruit, cut veggies, deli meat and bread. Sheepishly he explained, “I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He shrugged, looking embarrassed. I reassuringly squeezed his hand and thanked him for his efforts, stretching up to kiss his cheek. At the time, he seemed to be the sweetest man I had ever met.
Sitting at the table I began filling my plate while he poured a glass of ice water from a beautiful crystal pitcher. Suddenly aware there was only one plate I asked him if he would be eating. Looking ashamed he replied, “I ate while you were sleeping.”
Too hungry to worry much about manners I took a bite of my sandwich and rolled my eyes with appreciation. At that moment peanut butter and jelly would have been more than enough to satisfy me. This meal felt like heaven.
Leaning back in my chair I sighed in gratitude. The view was spectacular; the food was delicious. This was the life!
Our eyes met and without looking away he grabbed my shin then placed my foot in his lap. Gently he probed the spot in my arch where the cut had been. Once I gave no indication of discomfort he pressed harder, massaging my foot, then my ankle. Eventually his caress extended up my leg, rubbing and kneading my calf, but his touch never extended above my knee.
The entire time he maintained eye contact with such intensity I should have felt uncomfortable, but his touch was soothing. I felt myself relaxing, wishing his hands would explore just a little higher.
I remember wishing I could stay there forever.
This post is in response to the daily writing prompt Emphatically and is part of something longer I am working on.
This post is a continuation of the following post:
Should I Leave the Relative Safety of This Luxurious Bed?