feel of his kiss upon her was unbearable, filling her up with passion, a passion that she knew was alright to feel, but still did not stop her thoughts from crashing in upon her, the realization that she was kissing a man, she’d never kissed anyone, that she was allowing someone to see her vulnerability.
Her breath started quickening, she didn’t want to appear foolish but she had to get up, away from him, away from this.
She started shaking her head, her hands dropping and he instantly stopped, pulling away, tuned to her needs. “What is wrong?” He asked gently, his breath rough, his manhood already hard.
“I, we shouldn’t. I don’t want to appear to be a tease but this isn’t…I don’t feel right.” She said and expected his anger, lashing out at her.
“Okay,” he replied.
She stared at him in distrust, it couldn’t be that easy. She started scooting from the bed, watching him, waiting for him to move, hurt her, attack her, but he didn’t move, simply staring at her.
“I will never hurt you,” he replied.
She didn’t agree or disagree. Simply stood on the opposite side of the bed and met his eyes. “I think I should go home, now,” she said. “Where is my dress?”
“On the chair behind you.” He returned.
Nodding, she picked up her shoes, her dress, coat and purse, hearing her keys rattle within the black clutch bag. “And the bathroom?”
“You can use my bathroom, through the door behind the chair or the guest bathroom, down the hall and to the right,” he said, once again still, as if he was with a frightened deer, not moving, not wanting to scare her away.
“The guest bathroom,” she finally said and made her way through his bedroom that was large, impeccably done in masculine woods and simple furnishings, the large window open and she noticed for the first time they were in a sky rise apartment downtown, his condo overlooking the beauty of the city and the harbor.
She walked briskly towards the bathroom, found it, and hurriedly put her clothes on, wrapping her coat around herself and taking out her pepper spray, placing it in the pocket of her coat. So far he hadn’t attacked her, she didn’t feel violated, and he had been calm considering her skittish behavior.
She opened the door carefully, calling him, not wanting to go back to his bedroom, and placing the shirt he had given her last night neatly folded upon his dark leather couch in his living room, staring at the view of the city as she heard his footsteps walking towards her.
“Are you ready?” He asked, dressed in black slacks and a black shirt, looking as handsome as he had last night.
“I will call a cab to pick me up,” she said, going towards the door.
“Rain,” he began. It was a command, her heart stopped in her throat. “I will not hurt you.” He repeated again. “I will drive you to your car.”
Shaking her head, she reached the door, unlocking and opening it. “No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for last night. Good bye.” And with those words she escaped.
She walked downtown when she left his apartment, it was early Sunday morning, and the city seemed strangely vacant, empty. Finding a Starbucks close by she ordered a green tea and sat at the bar overlooking the deserted street with a few other people before pulling out her cellphone to call a taxi service. She felt as strangely empty as the street before her, the quiet of the Starbucks, her thoughts empty of the past twelve hours, not wanting to remember. Not about his beauty, his gentleness how he had reacted to her behavior. She wanted to forget the embarrassment, her lack of sophistication even though she was nearly thirty one, her loneliness, her past that would not die although she wished more than anything it would.
When the taxi arrived she hurriedly escaped into the warm confines and gave the taxi driver the address of the restaurant where her car
Her breath started quickening, she didn’t want to appear foolish but she had to get up, away from him, away from this.
She started shaking her head, her hands dropping and he instantly stopped, pulling away, tuned to her needs. “What is wrong?” He asked gently, his breath rough, his manhood already hard.
“I, we shouldn’t. I don’t want to appear to be a tease but this isn’t…I don’t feel right.” She said and expected his anger, lashing out at her.
“Okay,” he replied.
She stared at him in distrust, it couldn’t be that easy. She started scooting from the bed, watching him, waiting for him to move, hurt her, attack her, but he didn’t move, simply staring at her.
“I will never hurt you,” he replied.
She didn’t agree or disagree. Simply stood on the opposite side of the bed and met his eyes. “I think I should go home, now,” she said. “Where is my dress?”
“On the chair behind you.” He returned.
Nodding, she picked up her shoes, her dress, coat and purse, hearing her keys rattle within the black clutch bag. “And the bathroom?”
“You can use my bathroom, through the door behind the chair or the guest bathroom, down the hall and to the right,” he said, once again still, as if he was with a frightened deer, not moving, not wanting to scare her away.
“The guest bathroom,” she finally said and made her way through his bedroom that was large, impeccably done in masculine woods and simple furnishings, the large window open and she noticed for the first time they were in a sky rise apartment downtown, his condo overlooking the beauty of the city and the harbor.
She walked briskly towards the bathroom, found it, and hurriedly put her clothes on, wrapping her coat around herself and taking out her pepper spray, placing it in the pocket of her coat. So far he hadn’t attacked her, she didn’t feel violated, and he had been calm considering her skittish behavior.
She opened the door carefully, calling him, not wanting to go back to his bedroom, and placing the shirt he had given her last night neatly folded upon his dark leather couch in his living room, staring at the view of the city as she heard his footsteps walking towards her.
“Are you ready?” He asked, dressed in black slacks and a black shirt, looking as handsome as he had last night.
“I will call a cab to pick me up,” she said, going towards the door.
“Rain,” he began. It was a command, her heart stopped in her throat. “I will not hurt you.” He repeated again. “I will drive you to your car.”
Shaking her head, she reached the door, unlocking and opening it. “No, that won’t be necessary. Thank you for last night. Good bye.” And with those words she escaped.
She walked downtown when she left his apartment, it was early Sunday morning, and the city seemed strangely vacant, empty. Finding a Starbucks close by she ordered a green tea and sat at the bar overlooking the deserted street with a few other people before pulling out her cellphone to call a taxi service. She felt as strangely empty as the street before her, the quiet of the Starbucks, her thoughts empty of the past twelve hours, not wanting to remember. Not about his beauty, his gentleness how he had reacted to her behavior. She wanted to forget the embarrassment, her lack of sophistication even though she was nearly thirty one, her loneliness, her past that would not die although she wished more than anything it would.
When the taxi arrived she hurriedly escaped into the warm confines and gave the taxi driver the address of the restaurant where her car
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