Page 47 of Reclaiming Love

Inside the huge, multi-level house, encased in darkness and noise, they moved through hallways filled with people holding plastic cups.

Going up the stairs to another level, they’d lost Heather and Finn who had been leading the way. Now the two of them walked around the dimly lit rooms hand in hand.

“I don’t know anyone here,” Melissa shouted into Noah’s ear.

“Me neither,” he shouted back and led her out of the noisy room where music blared out and bodies, back-lit from lights at one end of the room, gyrated slowly, surrounded by the smell of smoke and alcohol that stained the air. Melissa wished they’d stayed at the bar.

Until Noah pulled her into an empty room. A rectangular black fabric lampshade with a gold orb-shaped base threw warm light onto the bed. They closed the door behind them, shutting out the noise and stench outside.

Noah asked her, “Do you want to go out and mingle?”

“No.” She gripped his hand.

“Do you want to dance?”

“No.”

Here, they had privacy. She locked the door. “Just so that people won’t walk in.”

“I know,” he said.

“I’m not saying that we’re going to do anything,” she said hastily, not wanting him to get the wrong impression. Somehow, she didn’t think Noah would get the wrong impression.

“I know.” He turned to her and his gaze dipped to her lips. She reached out the same time as he did, and they touched fingertips, and slowly her lips sought his, his fingers entwined with hers, until their bodies held tight, lips moved, tongues felt.

She’d never felt so hot for anyone before. The long, gradual buildup, slowly formed over months, and lusted after for weeks, came together in a desperate, wanton hunger for each other.

She kissed him as though she wanted to devour him and had never known herself to possess such feeling for someone she hardly knew.

He touched her, nowhere overtly sensual, but his fingers were sensual, his touch sublime. His fingers traced along her neck, then gently below the rise of her collarbone, slid along her jaw while his other hand clasped her firmly around her waist. She pressed against him, her body feeling the pressure of each part of him. Before long they were on the bed, fully clothed, with not a button undone, yet hungry to touch and kiss and explore safe ground for now.

It was mutual, this safe haven. She wanted him, right here, right now, but she also knew, even caught up the headiness of lust, that dragging it out, making this be enough for now, was enough.

A couple of times, Noah stopped, pulled his mouth away, his fingers frozen in motion. He’d look down at her, smile, go slow, stop to stare, and each time she’d be the first one to move in, lift her head, fix her lips to his, move her hands up and down his fully clothed back.

And wonder what it would feel like to be naked and sweaty and hot beneath him now.

But that could wait.

When he dipped his tongue further in her mouth, she arched her back, needing to feel him while she suffered the sweet torture of restraint.

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