Avenoir

Avenoir - John

John

My heart pounds in my chest as I hold Marlena's hand with mine, our fingers spliced together. She is warm and soft, and she smells like roses, jasmine, and vanilla. I want to lean forward and lick across her lips again, to see if she tastes as good as she smells. I know she does. I kissed her less than an hour ago and now all I can think about is how that felt, and how it would feel to kiss her again.

I don't know what I will do if she shoots me down in flames. I honestly don't know how I'll go on. I have never allowed myself to even hope that she might feel the same. That she might feel anything more for me than just warmth and an easy smile when she thinks of me.

But now I have unlocked the cage that holds those thoughts, I am consumed by them. In the space of an hour, I have been consumed by her, by the possibility that I could hold her in my arms again. That she might willingly curl her body against mine, she might lay down with me and let me run my hands over her golden skin. I can't stop imagining her smiling up at me with that astonishing, burnished amber come-hither gaze of hers. Running her fingers through the hair on my chest. Gasping when I slide my fingers over the soft flesh of her naked bottom and moaning when they come to rest in the soft, slippery space between her thighs.

If I have to go back to watching her from afar, to longing for her with that hollow ache in my chest as she swings Belle in the air and showers kisses on Brady's head, I don't know how I will cope.

And if she knows how I feel? If she knows that every time I so much as touch her, my heart vibrates with the nearness of her. If she knows that I dream of her, that I long to make her smile and then capture that smile with my mouth as her eyes sparkle and hands reach for me. Won't that change our relationship? Won't that make things awkward?

It was awkward, yes.

"You don't need to explain again," she says, but she doesn't look at me. Instead, she looks toward the door and tries to pull her hand from mine. "Honestly. It's fine. I understand."

"No, Doc." I let her go and watch her as she slips around the other end of the desk and rushes to the couch, swiping up her coat and her bag. I think of Laura and her words. Don't let her fob you off with a non-answer. If you want to know how Marlena feels, then ask her and make sure she's honest with you.

"I'm afraid I really need to go." She looks at me and then turns for the door.

"Wait!" I rush around and catch up with her as she reaches the door. "Doc, stop!"

She ignores me and reaches to twist the lock. If I miss this chance to tell her how I feel, I may never get another one. And I have to. There is so much I don't understand right now, but the one thing I do understand is that there is a depth to our relationship that makes this risk worth it. I don't want to hurt her, I don't want to fracture our friendship but if there is the smallest chance that we could have more, then I owe it to myself, I owe it to her to pursue that.

"STOP!" I feel frantic, and not even realizing how rough I am being, I grab her and spin her around, slamming her back against the door. She gasps and the sound of it makes my still semi-hard cock twitch in my jeans. She stares up at me and swallows, her cheeks red, her lips parted. She is breathing heavily, and her eyes are wide, her pupils blown with what looks like arousal.

"Doc," I whisper, my voice harsh with restraint. I want to kiss her so badly it actually hurts. I lift my hand to touch her face, but I am scared. I ball it into a fist as her eyes scour my face. I wonder if my desire for her is written as plainly across my face as it is inscribed in my heart.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly and unconsciously, and the tip of her moist, pink tongue slides along her lower lip. I almost groan with the effort of checking myself. I want to devour her. I want to lick those luscious lips, slide my tongue inside that warm, beckoning mouth, and feel hers, soft and wet and probing. I want to press my body against hers so that I can feel her breasts, soft against my chest. So that she can feel my need for her digging into her softly rounded belly.

I hear the thump of her purse as it hits the floor and the soft shuffle of her coat as it follows, the gentle folding into itself as it hits the floor between our feet.

"Oh, fuck!" Tears fill my eyes. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say. I am lost to her, but I can't find the words to describe my thoughts and my feelings. I inhale her and memories flood through me. The night on that dirty mattress in San Christobal. Desperate kisses with thunder overhead, leather, sweat, and skin. Kissing her on an airstrip with explosives strapped around her body. Holding her in the pouring rain outside St. Luke's... "Doc, baby..." I shake my head.

Slowly, she lifts her small, delicate hand and reaches out to touch shaking fingers to my cheek. Slowly, slowly her slender fingers reach out and slide around the back of my neck. My heart hammers against my ribs as she tugs, pulling me closer.

My eyes search hers. Forest green, flecked with flashes of golden light. They are beautiful. They are full of mystery, history, and desire.

Desire. Fuuuuck!

"Doc," I murmur, my own eyes wide as they fall to her lips. "Oh, Marlena."

"John," she whispers, her voice hoarse with barely restrained emotion and need. "For God's sake, kiss me!"