Feelings

In the Heat of the Night

The door closed with not so much a thud as a grunt. A grunt that came from deep in Tom's chest. He held her in his arms, his lips pressed to hers in a passionate attempt to meld their bodies into one person.

The taxi ride home - to Tom's home - had been furtive and urgent. His hand laid on her thigh, subtly tracing circles through the delicate fabric. He looked, to all intents, as if he was watching the world go by. Silently looking out of the window, he seemed to pay her no heed. Her breathing as she faced resolutely forward was ragged and shallow. Only the slightest twitch in her leg revealing the difficulty with which she was sitting still. As his hand moved slowly closer and closer to between her thighs, his fingers brushing her softness, she battled not to cry out.

Just moments before she thought she might shame them both, the taxi stopped, and the driver turned to ask for his fare. He would have thought they weren't speaking. They were sitting so far apart. But then, he was an experienced London cabbie. He could tell by the deliberate air of separation that five minutes after he was gone, you wouldn't have been able to put a playing card between them, let alone a whole taxi seat.

Tom paid the fare and gently helped her out, his hand enveloping hers as he led her up the steps to his front door. Without a word, he unlocked it and almost dragged her through it, pushing her against the wall in the hallway with the grunt that accompanied the door's closure. His mouth crashed onto hers in a frenzy of kissing and moaning. She pushed him back slightly, and he groaned his complaint until he watched as she discarded her jacket, the thin fabric of her dress revealing her body was reacting every bit as much as his. He put a hand on her breast, feeling the little nub under his palm as she moaned into his mouth.

Now, he was pulling her dress up to her waist, undoing his belt, pulling away his trousers and kissing her hungrily at the same time. She held his head in her hands, her fingers pulling at his hair, her tongue searching his mouth greedily.

With a suddenness that took her breath away, he hoisted her up against the wall, hands beneath her, and she wrapped her legs around him. In his urgency to satisfy this primal need, he'd ripped her knickers off and thrown them on the floor along with her jacket. Where once she might have been outraged, or indeed scared, she virtually came undone there and then at his raw desire.

Their bodies moved and thrust together for barely a couple of minutes, their moans growing louder until they fell over the edge at the same time. For a moment or two, they remained the way they were, frozen, Tom's head on her shoulder, his mouth against her neck. His breath was hot and heavy, her body twitching in a last shudder of desire.

Slowly, he eased her down, and she smoothed out her dress as he pulled his trousers back into place.

"Fuck." was all he could say. "Fuck Sophie...." his hands shook as the adrenaline subsided and he sat on the stairs, leaning forward just looking at her, his face and chest beaded with sweat, his eyes aflame.

"Yes, yes we did." She smiled as she came and sat at his feet, resting her head on his thigh. "Tom?"

"Yes love?"

"Maybe... maybe we could get a drink." she looked up at him, and he could see that there was something else in her eyes, something he wanted to see as often as possible. He stood, bringing her with him.

"Yes, yes of course. Come with me." he took her hand and led her into the living room. It was exactly how she'd imagined it would be. Wooden floors, plush rugs, sumptuous but restrained sofas and heavy, comforting fabrics. With the curtains closed, it was a secluded cave, a secret hideaway. There was a fireplace, a gas fire by the look of it, which at the press of a button, Tom lit. The flames brought a warmth as well as a muted light to the room. Instantly she went and sat on the rug in front of it, turning back to look at him.

His heart lurched again. The glow of the fire, the residual passion in the eyes, the kiss-swollen lips curled up in a smile, all made up the face he knew he was hopelessly falling for. He walked over to a little tray on the side and poured two measures of whisky into glasses and added a couple of cubes of ice from a little insulated bucket to the side. Lifting the heavy crystal glasses, he walked over and handed her one.

"I hope you like it?" he asked as he kicked off his shoes and sat on the floor beside her. She nodded and clinked her tumbler gently against his.

"To us." she looked into his eyes and sipped the scotch, the amber liquid tracing a fiery path to her stomach. She closed her eyes and licked her lips. "mmm so good." she murmured. Tom undid his tie and lay back, glass resting on his chest, looking up at her. She thought he had never looked so handsome, lying there, open necked shirt, loose tie, relaxed and happy.

She took a sip more and put her glass up on the coffee table behind them. Then she took Tom's glass, dipped her finger in his drink and held it to his lips. He sucked the alcohol from it greedily and she smiled wickedly. "Greedy aren't we?" she whispered, placing his glass next to hers. As she did so, he reached up without warning, grabbed her and before she realised what was happening, he was above her, hands either side of her shoulders. He stared down at her, his eyes glinting in the firelight.

"For you? Always." he bent slowly and barely brushed his lips over hers. His mouth settled on her neck and he nipped under her ear very softly. Till now, she had lain still, pressed beneath him, his body warm and heavy on her. At the moment he nipped her, it was like she had been electrocuted and she arched her back to press up against him.

"Please..." she moaned softly "Please Tom, I need you...." she reached up and grasped him making him smile.

"Do you now my little kitten?" his eyes glittered and his words in her ear coated her mind like warm honey. "Do you indeed. Well, let me see what I can do about that shall I?" Slowly he drew her up to sit, the fire now providing a warmth that would compensate. Compensate for their lack of clothing as he moved and gently undressed her from behind. Undoing the zip on her dress, he drew it over her head, tossing it to the side. He kissed her shoulders as he undid her bra and threw it with the dress. That brief glimpse she'd had came true as he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it. She could feel his naked chest against her back as his hands roamed over her, cupping and caressing her. She tipped her head back onto his shoulder and let out a breathy moan as she arched into his grasp.

Slowly, he released her with a kiss to her back and carefully, stood and removed his trousers. She lay down on the rug as he did so, grabbing a throw cushion from the sofa for her head. With the last of his clothing gone, he knelt beside her then lay down gathering her to him.

"I'm yours Tom, I always will be. Yours and yours alone." she murmured as he leaned over and started to kiss her neck and shoulders then moving down. They made love into the early hours, slowly, carefully, each movement, a declaration of their passion. When at last they were sated, he lifted her and carried her to bed.

They lay in the dark, in each others arms, feeling everything had fallen into place. And for that brief moment, it had.