'Say Yes'

There is only one for me,
You have made that possibility
We can take that step to see,
If this is really gonna be, (all you gotta do is say yes)

All you gotta do is say yes,
Don't deny what you feel
Let me undress you, baby;
Open up your mind and express,
I'm about to let you know, you make me
So, so, so, so, so, so, so,
You make me
So, so, so, so, so, so, so..

Floetry - Say Yes

_________________________________________

Emilia

Her heart was stammering, palms sweaty, as her driver drove her car; sitting next to him, in the backseat, flashing lights of cameras going-off. They'd had the time of their lives just now, partying, without a care; even though this night felt bittersweet to them both, they'd still enjoyed each other's company. Touches, and stolen glances, some noticed, but mostly not, were exchanged throughout the evening - especially out on the dance floor, "You're phenomenal E, don't ever forget that–" she recalled his words of encouragement; breath sweet, and hot like lava, his voice deep, and gravel in her ear,

"..I love you so much Clarke..and yes, fuck that award mate!"

"–What's on your mind?" he asked, her head resting amongst his shoulder; his arm behind her, hand caressing her, touching her supple skin. It felt so good, too good, to be sitting so close to him; in this way, and in this manner, breathing the scent of his cologne - like the sweetest taboo, hearing that familiar love song: for a quiet storm, was brewing-deep, within her lady parts. She signed, with contentment, under a faint drunken-haze; still coherent when she said, "–nothing. It's just that this feels so nice." She knew it was wrong, she'd always known, had always felt the guilt; but as of late, things had taken a turn, within the state of his current marriage. They'd promised to never lie together, tie their souls together as one; until the day, mayhaps, if God decided, they were meant to be with each other.

"You're right E, it does. It always does..." She raises her head, to look-up high, into her best friend's face; noticing a hint of a smile gracing, across his lovely, chiseled features. The driver made a right-hand turn, which made her lean more into him - his arm around her bare shoulders, tightening their grip around her frame. He suddenly placed a kiss on her forehead, making her sigh and smile; when another arm, went around her body, eyes locked in a trance. "–So, what's on your mind Christopher?" she asked, her eyes then softened,

"Probably the same that's on yours–"

"–And what's that, since you know me so well." Her voice was small, breathy, as she gazed into his eyes; dark, and black, as an onyx gemstone, feeling the car then halting. Releasing his hold from around her, she sat-up tall, in her sexy dress; holding her girls in place, still relieved that she didn't have some weird, wardrobe malfunction. Realizing they were finally here, in front of her gorgeous L.A. abode; she shot a quick glance at him - catching him staring,

"That dress," he murmured, with a mischievous smile, "–is bound to get me into trouble." The driver stepped-out, opening the door to his side; and he stepped-out thereafter, walking over to help her. Her heart was beating, stammering quickly, against her heaving chest; knowing exactly what they were here for: to blow-off some pent-up, sexual tension. The guilt was there, yes, deeply, within the pit of her belly; as he reached her side, opening-up her door, helping her out to stand.

"Ohh fuck, my legs–" she shrieked, her knees wobbling, as she stood. "–It feels like I'm standing on a thousand knives, OOPS," she joked, then giggling,

"Ohh another knife joke Emilia–" he said, as he chuckled, grabbing her hand; catching him staring, seemingly admiring her beauty, which made her blush and smile. He helped her carefully, as they walked to the door, of her lavish-Cali retreat; retrieving the keys, from her tiny clutch bag, his hand at the small of her backside. Swiftly with a turn, she unlocked her door, stepping inside of her foyer; her house dark, heels clacking-hard amongst the floor, a breeze gliding softly, against her skin. Placing her keys on the front door table, he shut, and locked the door behind; and immediately, she went to the strap, on her high-heel shoe, proceeding, to kick-off her stilettos.