Page 98 of Cloud Storm

Almost.

“Well,” I accept swiftly. “You know, a girl always wants to hear it. Many times. Tell me you love me, Lancelot. Tell me and kiss me.”

“I love you, Ariel Wilkinson.” He places his lips over mine and time stops.

I am flying in a hurricane in which my joy in knowing that my love is reciprocated is the force that drives it. More than joy, it’s euphoria. Euphoria to know that a kiss means more than just lust.

Those four letters never sounded so mystical and breathtaking to me.

We run across the field laughing, the morning mist lightening by the minute, so by eight in the morning, the sky is clean and the air is crisp and fragrant.

We end our morning with a delicious breakfast on the hotel terrace, the best pancakes I’ve ever had with lots and lots of lavender honey. It’s the theme around here, apparently.

I’ve brought with me a huge handful of lavender sprigs and I can’t wait to talk with the manager, because I want to incorporate their products into the recipes at the bakery. The lavender ice cream Lancelot’s devouring is out of this world. I’m even considering asking them to send their frozen yumminess to the bakery next summer.

“Silly me,” says Lancelot at random. “I brought you here to focus on relaxation with the hopes of making you forget about business. And here we are, your mind exploding with ideas, I can see the gears turning from here.”

His poor attempt at seriousness is betrayed by his smile.

“I’m sure you researched this place from A to Z, so no surprises for you.” Don’t be fooled by his ‘getaway’ guise, the man can be sly, he brought me here for a lot of reasons.

He doesn’t say a word, there’s no need, he’s just happy that I’m excited to be here.

This day has already been full and it’s barely ten in the morning.

Last night we arrived late and I hadn’t had the chance to see the magnificence of the whole place. Not because this is one of those exclusive five star luxury resorts, it isn’t. It’s more of a cozy, small boutique hotel.

I’m living in a dream, wrapped in a cloud of cotton. My fantasy has now become a sweet reality. One that I’m afraid to take for granted, the bubbles are fragile and I fear ours can burst at any time.

We sleep in each other’s arms, like so many other nights, but tonight is different. We have advanced, confident and hopeful in what the future holds for us.

Lancelot has said so many times he doesn’t believe in fate or destiny and up until recently, neither did I. Despite this, now I see it differently, and I’m sure that the energy that governs the world has been determined to unite us.

He and I weren’t meant to be. We were completely different. And yet, blind and lost, a force greater than ourselves made us collide.

Like a couple of trains running at full speed downhill. Two souls coming from other worlds, different in form and at the end equals in essence.

A touch, soft as a feather in the wind, caresses my chest and I move looking for more, then comes another and then another. My body warms up, my center becoming wet. I open my eyes to find that I’m not floating in a cloud and instead of feathers, it is Lancelot’s lips that run over my body.

I turn to look at the clock, the numbers glow in the gloom of our room. Three thirty in the morning.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” I ask as his mouth, wet and open goes down my neck, heading further and further south.

“I’m hungry,” he replies. His voice is a growl that gives me goosebumps.

“There’s no food down there, Lancel…” My protest weakens as he advances.

“But there lies the only thing that can satisfy me.”

Ariel over and out.

I cannot state a single coherent thought.

???

The sun already illuminates our room when I finally open my eyes. Lancelot sleeps beside me on his stomach, hugging the pillow on which his head rests. So, so relaxed, he looks even more attractive, more male, in the way only he can.

His skin calls me, his scent enchants me, like the legendary flutist. His aroma is like the cologne he often wears, a mixture of him and us, of what we did last night. God, if we continue like this I will waste away. We wake at the crack of dawn every morning to go to the gym, leaving behind the warm side of the bed I love to snuggle in. We’re doing damn good exercise every night. Fuck the gym, I don’t even need to go running anymore. Sex is the best—and most fun—cardio ever.

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