She (7 page)

than glad! “Though it is a shame no one else gets to see it. You’re denying them a true work of art.”
“Tonight you are a poet, Samuels.”
I smile and shrug nonchalantly. “You know me, Leary, I just call it how I see it.”
“Allow me to reciprocate,” he says, and I want to tell him not to, but he’s too quick. “When you smile, it creases here,” he touches either side of my nose. I can’t stop myself, his hands on face make me smile and I feel the creases of my own skin under his fingers. “And your eyes, they also smile… But my favourite thing is the noise you make.”
“I make a noise when I smile?” I am shocked.
“Yes, you do. A sound of contentedness. It’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Oh…” I wasn’t aware I do that! I make a mental note to keep an ear out for it.
“Come on,” he says suddenly, taking my hand and leading me towards a slack-line.
I stand motionless in front of it. “What do I do?” I ask.
He lets go of my hand, and in one steady and easy move he stands on the thin piece of sturdy material. He holds one arm out to his side and one above his head, and then as he walks effortlessly along the line, he swaps the positions of his arms. “Always keep your arms moving,” he tells me. “And always keep your eyes focussed on the end of the line where it’s tied off,” he says, and sure enough he stares down the line, his eyes intense, serious, and very,
very
sexy. When he reaches the end of the line he turns, his eyes now focussed on the knot at the other end, and when he has walked back to where I’m watching him from he jumps down, and holds out his hand. “Your turn.”
I readily accept his hand. Then I stand with one leg on either side of the line, which is about a foot off the ground. Not too far to fall, I tell myself. Using Logan’s hand to steady me, I place one foot on the line, which is the same width as my foot, and I lift off the ground with my other leg so that I’m balancing on the slack-line. It’s wobbly. Very wobbly.
“Put your other arm up,” Logan reminds me and I do as he says.
My balance increases and I take several quick steps forward only managing to stay upright because Logan is holding my hand, keeping me in place.
“Focus on the end of the line,” he says.
I steal a quick glance at him, the last I’m permitted whilst on the slack-line, and then I fix my eyes on the point where the line is tightly secured to the wall. Suddenly, everything aligns. My wobbling stops, I’m still and utterly serene. My whole attention is put on the end of the line and somehow I stand completely balanced within myself. It’s like magic. “Wow,” I breathe.
I can hear Logan smile as he says, “It’s good, isn’t it?”
“It’s amazing.” And it truly is. My focus is astute and does not waver. I take several more steps, this time slower, more considered, my eyes still glued to the end of the line. I realise that I’m not holding onto Logan’s hand as tightly as I was a moment ago, my balance has improved ten fold just from where I focus my eyes. Bravely I let go of Logan’s hand altogether for a few moments. I stand still, moving my arms from side to side to retain my balance, getting used to the feeling. It’s so simple, so quiet, so peaceful. It’s like nothing else exists; it’s just me, in total alignment with all of myself. But suddenly I remember Logan is with me, and that’s when I wobble and nearly fall off. He grabs my hand and steadies me before I do. Finally taking my eyes off the line I turn to smile at him. “Considering it’s just walking along a piece of material, this is a
lot
of fun!” I tell him.
He laughs. “Yes, I think so, too. You’re doing brilliantly, by the way.”
“Can you do any tricks?” I ask him.
“Yes, but I’ll show you later. We’ve got plenty of time. For now, just walk.”
So for the next fifteen minutes he stands beside me in silence, allowing me to get used to both the slack-line and also his quiet but profound presence. As much as l like the experience of the slack-line, it’s the latter experience that really takes my breath away. We’re not even looking at each other but we’re in our bubble, and something is building between us. The longer neither one of us talks the more heightened it becomes. I’m torn between focusing on the end of the line and focusing on the rising feeling. There is something so sexy about having Logan stand there, just being there, supporting me if I need him to, or else just watching me while I walk; and every time our hands unexpectedly touch I feel a jolt run through me: a pang of excitement and a wave of desire. But I don’t know what to do about it. What can I do with such feelings, other than to give over to them entirely which might be slightly inappropriate in a public gymnasium! Just the thought makes me wobble violently, and Logan’s hand tightens around mine, steadying me. With both feet on the line I turn sideways to look at him.
“I think I can walk and talk at the same time now,” I tell him, and he nods in agreement.
I’m pleased by how fast I’m getting the hang of slack-lining. A further half an hour later and Logan is able to back away completely, leaving me walking, balancing and turning by myself. And all the while we’re talking; talking about our favourite things. From US Presidents, to holidays we’ve taken, to books, films and music, to quotes, to seasons, to artwork, to milkshakes, pizza toppings and restaurants, we share our thoughts and feelings, offering one another an insight into our personal worlds. Then when my legs are aching from balancing for so long, I sit, bouncing on the line, while Logan goes over to another slightly higher one, and shows me some of the tricks he can do.
First of all he sits on the line and begins bouncing, higher and higher, until he flies over a foot above it, before falling onto it again, and then flying even higher still. Then as he’s in the air, he lifts his legs and this time lands on the line on his feet, balancing quickly, his eyes serious and focussed. Jeez, he looks good when he so focussed! It’s not enough that he’s gorgeous, sweet and sexy, but he’s agile and athletic too. I gaze at him in admiration, and not only for the show he’s putting on. He’s utterly captivating, and unbelievably beautiful. I’m here with him, alone in this big room…he likes me…I like him…oh, the things I long to do! Above us, blaring from the radio, ABBA sings:
I still don’t know what you’ve done with me. A grownup woman should never fall so easily
*
… and I smile to myself. Sound familiar, Gem? I continue watching Logan work. The more tricks he does, the more energy he exerts and the heavier his breathing becomes. Why does the sight and sound of his rapid breath turn me on so much? The feeling is building between us, and I know that I have to do something about it. It’s torturous to watch him, to want him, and to feel what I feel between us and do nothing about it.
I get to my feet. The sight of me moving distracts him and he jumps down off the line, and then leans back against it, watching me while I walk towards him. His eyes smoulder, and I feel like mine might be too. Jeez, I want him
so
badly! My heart is pounding in my chest. I’ve had enough of wanting, of longing, of looking from a distance. I want him close to me.
Now
. I don’t want my fantasies to stay fantasies. I want them to be real.
His legs are slightly apart as he leans against the line. I stand in between them and press my body against him as I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him. I put my hands on his face as I claim his mouth with my own. His mouth opens readily and our tongues caress one another fiercely and headily. There’s no sweet, gentle introduction to our kiss, both of us filled with too much desire and passion to waste any time. I wrap my arms around his neck and my hands tangle in his hair as our kiss deepens and our passion grows. He takes one of his hands and places it on my back, sliding it down my spine until he reaches my backside. He cups me in his hand and then forcefully pushes me against him, my hips against his, and he holds me tightly in place. I groan into his mouth, and I feel him smile. I may have initiated this, but he’s taken over now. His other hand cups the back of my head as he pushes his tongue deeper into my mouth. I arch my back against him, my hands twisting in his hair, pulling on it. I surrender to my feelings. The bubble we’re in seems to pulsate, egging us on. Is this where it was leading all the time, I wonder. From our first encounter two years ago, to the beginning of my seduction two days ago…it’s all been leading to this exquisite, sensual, heart-wrenching kiss.
He stands up, no longer leaning against the line, and his hands move around my waist. They tighten there and I know what he wants me to do. I jump up, our mouths parting momentarily, and I wrap my legs around his waist. My dress was not designed for such movements. It rides up, exposing my thighs, but I fail to care. I kiss him again, and while he keeps one hand firmly on the small of my back, the other one slides over my backside, gently squeezing as it goes. Then he slides it further, between my legs towards my sex. I’m moist, and as his hand skims over my underwear I’m not the only one to make a sound. I moan against his sweet, welcome touch. And Logan moans too, deep in his throat. It’s a sound that makes me feel so sexy! I push my tongue harder against his to show him I approve, and he keeps his hand where it is, caressing me, making me wetter. I can feel his erection pushing against me, and I marvel again in how sexy he’s making me feel.
We break in our kissing for a moment. He grins at me. I grin back, entirely seduced. I rub my face against his, then use my nose to knock his chin upwards. Obediently he lifts his head, giving me access to his neck. I kiss his throat as his expert hand continues to stroke my sex. I breathe heavily, climbing higher. I feel him harden more beneath me, and just the delicious thought of his hard, firm erection entering me makes me moan again. I’m nearly there. We can’t have sex right now, not here, not so exposed. But this we can do, this we
are
doing.
As if reading my mind, Logan whispers, “No one’s watching…”
And I believe him, utterly overcome by the moment. Above on the radio the announcer tells us that there’s only five more minutes left of Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day? I’d completely forgotten! For the last song of the night he plays My Funny Valentine, and I let the music and lyrics wash over me, as Logan’s mouth finds mine once more and he kisses me hard. His caressing hand slides underneath my panties, and slowly and sensually he sinks one long finger into me, whilst his thumb remains caressing my clitoris. I moan, relishing the feeling. It’s so desired, it feels so good, and pushes me closer and closer to my climax. A moment later he slides another finger inside, filling me, and inwardly provoking the right spot. I kiss him as best I can, but I’m so close now… I moan, my mouth open against his. He leans towards me and bites my bottom lip, gently tugging on it. His fingers pick up pace; he slides them out and then back in with more force, pushing me, further and further…until…
I orgasm with a loud moan, a delectable shiver running through my whole body, and my legs trembling. Logan holds me tightly to steady me, and a moment later, my breathing still rapid, I open my eyes to look at him. As I do so he retreats his fingers from within me. His eyes are blazing, like wildfire. He’s so much more than beautiful now.
“Take me home, Logan,” I whisper to him, my mouth against his. I want to do that again!
*
Twenty minutes later I’ve got my back against the wall of my dark porch. Now with something solid behind me, Logan presses me firmly into the wall, and I’m about to come again. His fingers are against my sex once more and I’m building, quickly. We haven’t even made it through the front door! It’s shameful, I tell myself, and yet it feels so,
so
good! I begin to quiver, so very close, and I whimper, my mouth pressed against his throat. His mouth finds mine and I wrap my arms around his neck and hold his face against mine, thrusting my tongue against his. His fingers swirl against my clitoris, his tongue inside my mouth…and it’s all too much.
“Logan,” I groan into his mouth, and then I explode, succumbing to the perfect touch of his fingers.
Aaah
! He’s made me come twice in the last half an hour! It’s time to balance out the score. I want him to come inside…in more ways than one.
“Will you stay, Funny Valentine?” I ask him, my heart racing.
His answer surprises me. “Soon,” he says. “But not tonight.”
I frown at him in a petulant way, which makes him grin. I can’t help but smile back. He lifts a hand up to my face. He strokes my cheek, and rubs his nose against mine, before delivering a sweet, gentle kiss on my lips, the likes of which we had no patience for earlier.
“I like holding you in my arms and watching you,” he says of my orgasms.
“I like being held. And watched. You’re quite the expert,” I say kissing him appreciatively. “I’d like to return the gesture…if you stay?”
He makes a low, guttural sound in this throat. It’s sexy and makes me long for more. I’m insatiable and greedy.
“Not tonight,” he tells me again, before adding, “But I promise you my reason is a good one.”
“What is it?” I whisper.
He sets me down, so that I’m standing on my own two feet, but remains leaning against me. I can feel his erection, and I know there’s at least one part of him that wants to stay. Why is he denying himself the pleasure?
“I would