Dancing with Time

Trust - a word, a feeling?

"It gives me strength to have somebody to fight for; I can never fight for myself, but, for others, I can kill."― Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

Five days later

A lazy yawn stretched Juliet's lips open, revealing a flash of emerald green as her eyes cracked open. The dim light of dawn seeped through the flimsy tin curtains of the cottage, painting the room in soft, hazy stripes. Her gaze drifted down, landing on the expanse of Keith's chest. Bare and tanned, the sculpted muscles played across his torso, disappearing beneath the sheets. His face, relaxed in sleep, was turned towards her, lips slightly parted in a soft snore.

A playful snort threatened to escape her lips at the sight. As Juliet attempted to inch out of bed, a strong arm snaked around her waist, pulling her back against a wall of warmth. The white tank top she'd worn on their long walk yesterday had ridden up, exposing a sliver of her stomach where his skin, heated by sleep, sent shivers dancing down her spine.

A blush bloomed across her cheeks as his arm tightened around her, pressing her flush against his solid form. The forgotten reason for leaving the bed evaporated in the face of his closeness. 'This man,' she thought, a helpless sigh escaping her lips, 'is like a drug.'

A deep breath filled the space between them, followed by a gentle flutter of kisses like butterfly wings against the sensitive skin at the crook of her neck. "Best morning ever," she sighed contentedly, a soft moan escaping her lips as his kisses trailed down her jawline. Each brush of his lips sent a jolt through her, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs.

"Where... Do... You... Think... You're... Going?" Keith's voice, a husky whisper, punctuated the space between each kiss, sending shivers down her spine.

"Huh?" Juliet mumbled, her mind delightfully fuzzy, lost in the intoxicating haze his touch created. His hands slid down to her waist, sending a jolt of electricity where his fingers grazed her bare skin. Her cheeks burned as he shifted his weight, careful not to crush her.

Emerald eyes locked with his, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Juliet's own lips instinctively formed a small bite as a nervous flutter took root in her stomach. His touch ghosted under the hem of her tank top, sending shivers cascading across her already heated skin. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm in her chest, mirroring the blush that surely painted her face a vibrant crimson.

The warmth of his breath ghosted over her lips before they met in a searing kiss. Juliet surrendered fully, melting into his touch, her own lips returning the fervor with a desperate urgency. The taste of him, intoxicating and sweet, banished all rational thought.

His tongue, a gentle explorer, teased at her lips, coaxing them open with a soft moan. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as a wave of pure pleasure washed over her. The insistent shrill of her ringing phone seemed muffled, a distant echo in a world consumed only by him.

With a reluctant sigh, Keith pulled away, leaving Juliet breathless and whimpering at the sudden loss of contact. Her chest heaved, each breath ragged as if she'd just run a marathon. "Your phone," Keith rasped, his voice thick with desire.

Juliet, momentarily reluctant to sever the connection, trailed her fingers across his chest, with a playful push, she managed to dislodge him, though a part of her wished their tangled embrace could last forever.

The sheets rustled as Keith rolled onto his side. She, however, was wide awake, phone clutched tightly in her hand as she sat up against the headboard. "Hello," Juliet answered, her voice a touch breathless, as she brought the phone to her ear. She could feel the faint whisper of Keith's fingers trailing playful patterns on her bare shoulder, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.