Romantic getaway? I don't think so

A personal fantasy

Mike barely withheld himself from giggling when Michele let her eyes drop from his naked torso right down to his underwear. He could clearly see that her instincts were telling her to do something other than being angry with him. If only she'd listened to them, so he wouldn't have to pretend any more. He was tired of pretending that he was with someone else, when this woman, right there, was the one he wanted more than anyone else.

He breathed out in relief when she went to get dressed, because she nearly busted his cover. Had she went to look for him a second or two earlier, she would have caught him changing his wet clothes in the bathroom. He understood that what he did was extremely dangerous, and he thanked all his saints that she was too lost in her ecstasy to notice that he was gone. Things would have gone bad otherwise, and he wanted to do it the right way, without ambushing or scaring her. She was scared enough already, but of what? His every attempt to figure it out was useless. Nevertheless, he was determined to solve that puzzle by the end of the trip.

The hardest part from now on would be restraint. Their shower intimacy mustn't be repeated, because otherwise she will think she'd really gone crazy. At the state she was in now, she wouldn't handle it well. It wasn't just about her, either. He was hurting, too, being so close to her and knowing that she wasn't comfortable with him being around.

During those rare moments when she'd lower her guard, when she would allow herself to be honest with him - those were the moments that made him think that it could all be worth it, that she felt something for him. Then she would immediately change the tune and become distant, cold and irritated by the sight of him, and it hurt him.

He believed that joining her in the shower would make them both feel happy, and it did. It did, while it lasted. But then the time came to withdraw, and leave her all alone, once again. Although he wanted to tell her that she wasn't dreaming, he knew that she wasn't ready to know how desperate he was to touch her. He knew that she probably wouldn't have believed him.

It wasn't his plan to join her under the shower. He made that decision at the last moment, almost at an instinct. At first he softly knocked on the door a couple of times, but since there was no reply he unlocked them and looked for his jacket, which was thrown over the couch. He expected to find her asleep when he heard the water running in the shower. He knew what her body looked like so he didn't need to look again, but his curiosity or, rather, desire got the best of him, so he sneaked a little closer and peeked at her through half-closed door.

Her hair was pinned on top of her head in a messy bun. He saw her breasts from where he stood and, in a reflex, he bit his bottom lip. They were still the same shape that he remembered, although a bra cup size smaller. The rest of her body had also changed dramatically from what he remembered. She was much thinner. Her rib cage was protruding through her skin, as well as her hip bones. Was she eating at all? He made a mental note to take her to best places all around Prague and feed her all the delicacies he could think of. For as long as she was with him, he wouldn't allow her to be hungry.

He wondered what she was thinking about, because a smile, such a wonderful but rare feature which lightened up her face, looked like it was going to stay there forever, or at least for as long as her eyes were closed. Michelle had a habit that she wasn't aware of. Sometimes she would talk in her sleep, or during moments of complete relaxation, just like now. In those instances she would speak her thoughts out loud. Now Mike wanted to hear if she would do it again.

He was careful enough not to tell her that even when they were on the plane, she whispered his name in her sleep. At the time he thought that it didn't mean anything, but looking at her smile and hearing her whisper his name in this moment, he had finally connected the dots. She was still in love with him. She resisted him whenever he was near, and in her private moments she could relax and admit to herself that she wanted him, even after all this time they were apart. He bit his fist to withhold a rush of excitement. Now the tables have turned, and his desire to get her back was renewed. He had decided not to ignore his own urge to touch her again.