The Cold Stormy Night

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His jaw line was sharp. He had the kind of chin that could hold a cigarette butt without dropping it. I stared into his deep brown eyes in silence. I knew by the way it was snowing outside, that he was going to encourage me to stay the night. I bit my lower lip in anticipation. Would I be able to fight the temptation? Did I want to?

I didn’t want to come across as too excited, but I could feel my heart racing. I feared he would grab my hand and feel my anxiety. Absentmindedly I wiped the sweat off against my jeans. I glanced toward the window, part of me hoping that the snow let up, the other part hoping it was a full-fledged blizzard.

I gently pressed my lips against his and whispered to him that it was time for me to go. He nodded, but didn’t let go of my waist. I felt my gut clench with nerves? Passion maybe?

 A few seconds later I put my boots on. I dreaded the idea of going out in the blustery cold, but I knew that my family would want to see me for Christmas day. I took a deep breath inhaling his scent as the oxygen made its way to my lungs. His smell was intoxicating. Maybe waiting just a few more minutes couldn’t possibly hurt, could it?

He must have read my mind. Slowly he was pulling me close to him again. One boot was on, the other off. Before long, we were together sitting in front of the fire place. I smiled as I listened to the logs pop, feeling the heat against my cheeks.

Yes, this was much better than driving in the ice-cold storm. Eventually, I would leave, but now was not the time. I rested my head against his chest and yawned. Just a few more minutes.

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