The secluded stretch of beach was a safe haven from the stress of my cluttered life. Sitting on a blanket, I'd spent countless evenings on the moonlit sand enthralled by the resonant roar of the rushing surf. Listening intently, I could hear the talented mimic of a solitary night bird punctuating the silence. The moisture laden breeze, infused with the scent of the sea air, whipped my hair to a disheveled state. Distant sounds of laughter coming from the gaily lit charter boats echoed cheerfully across the harbor. This was my hideaway. Perched on my usual seat, a large flat rock smooth from years of exposure to the elements, I found solitude. Hidden away from the world, I sought wisdom and learned the nature of my own spirit. Occasionally, strangers would stroll down the beach, sometimes glimpsing curiously at me.
Glancing at my watch, I noted the time. He would be here soon. Watching the moonlight as it shimmered across the white sand, I thought of him. He had drawn me in from the beginning. He was an odd man. Simple and complicated. Congenial, yet intimidating. Attractive in a very rugged sense. His clear penetrating gaze was often like steel, yet held an occasional hint of softness. His smile was disarmingly boyish, yet I sensed danger when he was near. My involvement with him was not easy; I was quickly learning to accept uncertainty.
Sensing his approach, I stood and watched as he made his way quietly to me. His expression was unfathomable. In contrast, my ambivalence had to be written all over my face. We were not good for one another, yet the connection between us was indisputable. I was fascinated by it...and resentful. He stopped inches in front of me; Our eyes locked in warring silence.
"I wasn't sure you would be here." His voice, deceptively soft, always managed to intrigue me. Nervously I licked my lips and fought the urge to run. His hand moved to cup my cheek for a moment, then tangled in my hair. Tugging lightly, he forced me to look up at him.
Words would not help now. Often they came between us. He hid behind ambiguity, using his verbal prowess as a shield. On the other hand, my own words made me too vulnerable. Upon reflection, I had told him more than was wise and he used his knowledge to manipulate me. It was exhausting to be on guard all the time, a constant battle of wills. I was confused, but I wanted him. Looking into his eyes, I felt myself responding to his nearness and was angry with myself. Seeking his embrace, I wrapped my arms around him. His clean manly scent and cologne mingled to make my head spin. Burrowing closer, pressing my face to his chest, I sighed. Damn him.
Aware of my weakness, he pressed his advantage. Still grasping my hair, he lowered his lips to mine. Butterfly kisses at first...light...teasing...coaxing. His tongue delicately brushed the seam of my lips, softly stroking. Unable to stem my response, I opened myself to him. His tongue slid deeply into my mouth, tangling with mine. Kissing him feverishly, I poured all my emotions into him. Pain...confusion...anger...desire. Fighting him was always so pointless. He had won. Again.
I hated him. I hated myself for wanting him.
My eyes welling with tears, I held him, pulling him closer to me. Something indecipherable flickered in his gaze. Touching the tears running down my cheeks, he bent to kiss them away. Caught off guard by his tenderness, I sought his lips with my own. Sensing my underlying desperation, he kissed me deeply. Tired of fighting the inevitable, I sank to my knees on the blanket I had spread out earlier. He followed, pulling me roughly into his embrace. The intensity of his touch left me breathless. Stroking the tears form my face with a fingertip, he slowly trailed his fingers down my body. Across my shoulders...a tantalizing path to my already taut nipples... He paused to stroke them lightly with his thumb causing me to gasp and shiver. He kissed the sound from my eager lips, and continued his sensual assault.
