Although the rain has stopped, I am loathe to take down our makeshift tent. Our voices bounce back somehow, the words caring, soothing and kind. I had dreamed of seeing her again, but not dared to hope too hard that she might feel love’s pull.
The edge of the vast ocean is lace thin on the sand, shifting shingle shares the beach with secret lovers. Each time she leans in to whisper, it is all I can do to remain seated. My skin’s surface is dotted with desire as adrenalin flows, gathering excitement along with it and my heart refuses to beat the calm I need of it.
The strain in my arm is becoming painful but oddly adds to the excitement of the erotic quality of being outside and unable to touch her. I concentrate on the horizon and her whispered words become tentative air kisses, closer she leans, pausing against my ear and breathing hard in just that way she knows I love. I want her to kiss it but she stays motionless, her not-so-steady breathing sending surges of power through my limbs.
I turn my head a little and smile but my darkened pupils tell their own story, that one where we need no words, only time and space in which to fully explore and enjoy each other, like we’ve done before.