Bee to my Barnes

part 6

Regaining your thoughts from the clouds, you realise it's not to late to run. He hasn't seen you yet, swiftly looking side to side evaluating your quickest exit you become overwhelmed, flustered just in his presence and opportunity to find out who this man was.

Just as you go to dart behind the tall marbled pillars, eager to escape Jade grabs your forearm weaving through the crowds, elongating her neck in search of your mysterious man-crush.

‘Where are you looking I can’t see a ...oh’ her voice trailing of as she has followed your gaze. ‘Damn girl, that’s who you have been lusting over all this time?’ grinning ear to ear. ‘Your in look Trixie...that right here is non other than Mr James Buchanan Barnes, just the man we came to see!’ She let her smile slip into a sneer as she gripped your wrist tighter yanking you from your spot towards him wailing for their attention as she wafted her other hand around the air above her head to maximise effect.

Your pulse is racing, only beating faster with every step. Now only a few yards away the blood rushing through your body has become deafening, your chest tightening as a pressure builds making you aware of each and every breath, consciously trying to keep control, not to become undone as your eyes meet.
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Your eyes widening as you see her, crossing the marbled flooring where you first laid eyes on her. Impulsively your foot twitches with desire to run to her side, caving into your impulses you take a step forward before regaining composure of yourself. This woman doesn’t even know you, you don’t know her, yet this face has haunted you each night since you met. Releasing a low growl of the pent up frustration that has been slowly weighing you down made you fully aware of the hold she has over you. This has never happened before, captivating your world with a single glance.

You can’t help but admire the flowing river of silk caressing her body ever so gently as it  skimmed over her curves, clutching her perked breasts, her deep cleavage highlighted by the dip of the steel blue fabric, a perfect match. It's as though she was wrapped in your eyes and your eyes alone, just how it should be, the thought of anyone else looking at her lit a warm rage within you yet at the same time, you would gladly have everyone watch you claim her for yourself.

With each stride her gown floated across her skin, the slit along the side allowing intermittent flashes of her smooth thigh, running your tonge across your teeth you begin to imagine what it would feel like to taste her skin. Raising your glass to take a sip, the soft bubbles of champagne hydrating what is now an extremely dry mouth. Slowly sucking in an elongated breath as you lower your glass back down you find yourself running your tongue across your lower lip still in insatiable hunger, gently clamping down with your teeth as the flush of lust wade’s through you. Your eyes become heavy as your brain clouds with the images of touching her body once more. You don’t even know her name yet you know you need her.

A firm grip on your shoulder crashed your imagination back into reality, the flakes of heaven scattering around you. With a slight shake of your head your trying to process how this goddess could entrance you with such power, you're supposed to be the head of security and here you are imagining all the wrong, yet so right, things you would rather be doing.

Steve's voice bellows over the crowded chatter ‘Hey Buck, Ms Romanoff, may I say the hotel has never looked as elegant.’ Steve’s words briefly bringing your attention back to the exchange before you with Natasha Romanoff a shorter red haired woman, not to be underestimated as she is the definition of a powerhouse, the hotel owner. Reaching out an arm sliding it around the waist of the sleek blonde ever so delicately Steve grazes Jade’s cheek with a supple kiss. ‘This is my Jade and her best friend who is responsible for all this fantastic decor, Beatrix Miller.’

You swear angels sang as he spoke her name, Beautiful Beatrix.

Without breaking eye contact you reach out, plucking her small delicate fingers wrapping them between your own ever so slowly  as to prolong the sensation dancing across your skin. As you slide your thumb across her knuckles in slow motion you raise her hand rotating in motion before planting a soft supple kiss to the centre of her palm, intimate but the least of the desires cursing your veins. Your lips electric at the taste of her skin, the combination of floral scents mixed with jasmine, laced with a warm wooden undertone filled your nostrils – Chanel, doll has taste.

Your voice husky with desire ‘A pleasure to meet you once more Miss Miller’. A subtle curl in your smolder as you inpect her fingers looking for any signs she already belonged to another, the corners of your lips upturning into the start of a smile as you see she indeed is yours for the taking.