What the hell am I doing? The middle of the afternoon, in some unknown hotel, getting fucked by my employee. Have I gone insane? Have a taken drugs or drunk too much? � No, none of the above. I�m just completely overwhelmed by these feelings, these memories of how it feels to be loved, really loved. Taken out of yourself and touched and worshipped like some goddess, like he�s making me feel. He�s doing it now as he skims over my body, these age-old movements that somehow still change everything that will change everything - that perhaps already have. We�ve never done this before, I know you may find that hard to believe � after all look at the history. Would you believe it if I told you we were just friends? Of course the attraction has always been there, but he was married when I first met him so it was easy to walk away. I�ve never been the kind of woman to steal another�s man; I figure I wouldn�t want it done to me. So friends, always just friends, always remaining friends until now, as he does this, as I lie here letting him. Don�t I sound so passive, like he�s forcing me, some weak woman who couldn�t say no. Well I�m not; I want this just as much as he does otherwise I wouldn�t be here. After all I was the one who took his hand outside the courtroom, under the shade of the tree, away from sight. And led him through the city street to this hotel, hidden away nowhere remotely important. Not my apartment, too far away for what I had in mind, not his because I didn�t want to ask him where it was or break the atmosphere by hailing a cab. The thrill of the winter sleet hitting my bare face, red from the ice or the anticipation of what was about to happen I don�t know. Rushing past unknown faces, almost tripping on the sidewalk and knowing his arms would catch me. Then safe inside the room, this room, dark with thick heavy curtains pulled together. Somehow not sleazy though, just warm and comfortable and invariably right. No words spoken, none needed I suppose. These past few months, long, long months of casual glances and looks that lingered just that second too long, brushes of the hand when none was needed. Flirtation, what a wonderful invention, pre empting foreplay. Yet none was needed when we got here, one kiss and I was moaning into his mouth, just as I�m screaming now � how embarrassing, he�ll probably remember. How will I look at him tomorrow and not recall this, not shiver at the thought of his mouth upon mine, of his hands on my thighs, soft gentle caresses. Warm soothing emotion tracing it�s way up through my stomach, calming waves of pleasure and joy like inner smiles taking effect�oh god. The sound of my own name is still ringing in my ears, his voice whispering things now against my cheek, his heart thumping hard against my breasts, his hand holding mine so tight I fear the blood vessels may just burst out. I have to close my eyes to stop the dizziness, and fight off the urge to sleep now in his arms. �Nora, why bring me here, why do this now?� That one question I was dreading yet knew would inevitably follow this act of intimacy. �I�m not sure.� �You can�t just do this and have no reason. You�ve been putting me off for weeks, not accepting my dinner invites, or wanting to spend any time alone with me. Then what � we win a case one afternoon and you bring me here, is this how you celebrate?� I laugh despite myself and he turns my face to his and kisses me as he smiles. I want to say something to frame the moment, to capture it and lock it away forever as the most precious of memories. But there�s the sound of my phone ringing in my bag. We both lay there for a moment, still, silent, as if the person on the other end can see us. When it doesn�t end he moves and lets me reach over and find the phone. �Nora, where the hell are you? Are you okay?� My secretary. �I�m fine, I think, just the beginnings of a cold perhaps. Decided to go home and rest.� I daren�t look across at Jack but I heard him suppress a laugh. �Well Mr. Stevens called in for you, sent you some information on that meeting next week.� �Could you fax it over to me, I�ll look at it later.� �Sure, hope you�re feeling better soon. Think you�ll be in tomorrow?� �I should think so, Bye.� I can�t put the phone down quick enough and curse myself again for not switching it off. �You�re a good liar Ms. Lewin.� �What was I supposed to say? Hang on Jack�s just screwing me.� �I prefer making love to you.� His arms slide round my waist and he kisses my neck. And now I�m lost. I have to get out of here, I can�t stay, I can�t do it again. I don�t have time for relationships or splitting my attention into yet another million pieces. �I love you Nora.� Those words, barely spoken just breathed against my skin and already I feel myself whispering the response before my brain has time to think. This will never work, it will never last, but it�s too late to stop it. Life is moving and I�m alive to enjoy the journey. |
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| L i f e |
| by Ms. E |