The sound of your name used to send shock waves throughout my body, informing me of your invading presence and the paradise that followed. Which was why I wasn't surprised at the inner turmoil coiling about inside me as I turned to catch your gaze from across the room. The gallery was crowded tonight, full of potential clients and investors, friends and family as well. And yet all that seemed to capture my attention was the wildfire in your chestnut eyes, tempting me to get lost in them once again.
My heart was beating a thousand miles a minute. My hands shaking with anticipation of what was to come. The moment the cab driver pulled up in front of your house, I stopped breathing. I felt you before I saw you, my breaths coming in slower pants, my tongue darting out to lick my lips. You were leaning against the front gate, looking as sinful as ever. We locked eyes as soon as I stepped out of the cab and you paid the driver. We didn't have to greet each other. Our heated gazes did that for us. And you obeyed the eagerness in your eyes by placing your hands on my waist, pulling me closer to you. My arms wrapped around you, the scent of your cologne making my clit throb with need. I inhaled your scent deeply and buried my face into your neck, my grip on you tightening, yours on me as well. Your crooked grin could kill me alone. Just like it always has. I kissed all the way up to your lips, but you stopped me before I could devour them. You took my face into your rugged hands and looked into my soul before you spoke.
You reminded me of New York. Where the filthy and sleepless streets sparked the recollection of your mouth between my thighs, while our bodies were parked in an alleyway at night. The gritty sounds flowing throughout the city made my pulse race, thighs quivering, while eating lunch on the freshly cut grass in Central Park. I haven't felt you this much in years. But just like this infectious and addictive city, you have a way of making me feel at home even when I'm lost.
"It doesn't matter," I insisted, as soon as he closed the cabin door behind him, sending a cold draft throughout the eerie place. Its been in my family for many generations, and the residual energy crawling out of every crevice was slowly seeping further into my skin every second I stayed in here.
I've always been the one who wears pain like a second skin, staining everything I touch, spreading the misery around like a plague to the innocent victims who only ever wanted to love me. But they say time heals all wounds. That the pain is supposed to wear off in between early work meetings and late night conversations with temporary agony relievers. No one ever tells you the pain doesn't stop until you hit rock bottom. You were my rock bottom. And I still ended up hurting you. I've spent the last ten years trying to be something else besides a bad decision, and seeing you here tonight, that's when I knew. I've only ever wanted to be yours.