The Deep End

This time I arrived in time to see Patrick walking across the parking lot toward the pub we had agreed on.  I sat in my car for a moment and watched him, feeling the tension curling through my body; but this time it wasn't fear or nervousness, it was pure anticipation.  

He walked with that unconscious grace that larger men move with - that awareness of their bodies that speaks of confidence and athleticism.  I suspected that Patrick was unaffected by how people saw him, that he didn't realize that he drew the admiring gazes of several women who were clustered outside in the freezing air sharing a cigarette; and that made him all the more attractive to me.

I stubbornly made myself wait five minutes before I went in to join him. The pub was busy, crowded with people having lunch ~ noisy and hectic ~ and it took me a moment to find him.  It was only when he stood up and lifted his hand that I finally saw him.  He had managed to secure the sofa in the corner, a cozy spot complete with a gas fireplace blazing.  I crossed the room, eyes locked with his and walked straight into his welcoming hug without hesitation.  

We sat down, close but not quite touching, and got the small talk out of the way while the waitress brought us hot coffee and took our lunch order.  When we were alone again he turned to me and looked me over quietly.

'You look different today,' he said, smiling, still not touching me.

'I feel different,' was my reply, smiling back at him over the rim of my coffee mug.  His fair eyebrows lifted a bit at this.

'How different?' A challenge - I could see it in his eyes.

I set my mug down and slid closer to him, careful not to touch him. I leaned close, touching only my forehead to his for a moment before I kissed him, returning that soft kiss that he had given me at our first meeting.  The jolt of awareness and electricity was the same.  I could smell his clean scent, feel the soft bristles of the neatly trimmed goatee he wore, hear his soft intake of breath as our mouths connected.  It was all I could do to stop myself from crawling onto his lap and curling against his chest.

His lips held mine for a moment, though it seemed longer, and then we sat back slightly.  For all I was trying to seem cool and sophisticated, I could feel my heart pounding.  It was only the fact that I could see that he was as affected as me that calmed me.  The rest of our time inside was a blur - in a good way.  We chatted and laughed over our quick lunch; had a brief, good-natured debate over who would pay the tab (him, he insisted), and shrugged back into our coats and headed outside into the frigid air.

He walked me to my car again, waiting while I started it and dropped my bag onto the seat, then pulled me close, hands under my coat at my waist, so that our bodies touched.  This time when he bent his head to mine there was no hesitation.  That first proper kiss is burned in my memory even now. The cold air, his warm mouth, his large hands on my hips ~ I grabbed hold of his coat and hung on while he opened his mouth over mine and slid his tongue into my mouth to curl and tangle with mine.

He says to this day that the sound I made then almost broke his control.  I don't remember anything but his kiss ~ he says I sighed into his mouth with a little, breathy 'purr'.  His word, not mine.  I remember only wanting to burrow closer against his soft cashmere sweater.  When we came up for air, my face was in his hands, my hands clenched loosely in his sweater over his chest.  We stood for a moment, foreheads together, oblivious to anything around us, including the icy air, before he pulled my mouth back to his for another kiss.

Hoo, baby...

Seriously... is there anything better than someone who really knows how to kiss?

I was in at the deep end ~ happily drowning in my desire for this man, secure that he felt exactly the same way.  That fire between us kept me warm all the way back to work. When he proposed another lunch meeting a few days later I agreed immediately.

And that's when things really heated up...