Sunday, June 3, 2012
Good Day Lovelies,
It is Sunday Funday and I just want to stay curled in bed and sleep with the cats. But alas, errands must be run and things Sig Other has deemed important gotten to. I even have a few items on my list to check off, mainly writing a story for the sweetest cover my publisher Beautiful Trouble Publishing has given me. I have a title, which is often the hardest part, but unfortunately no plot, characters, or direction.
I have been scribbling little bits of stories all over the place but I can't make any of those fit. So while lying in bed, faking sleep in order to ward off Sig Other and his "rise and shine" demeanor, I started thinking about this sweet little couple and what their story should be and I was struck with the thought, "what is it like when it isn't so sweet" and "how do they get the sweetness back".
Well I rolled over and jotted down the briefest of a scene in my notes app, the receptacle of unfinished ideas, and decided instead of it living its life in obscurity why not share. Who knows, now that I've put it out into the universe maybe it will grow up to be a real story one day...ummm
Unedited and copyrighted by Janet Eckford
The warmth of his hand slipping between my thighs is my only indication that he is awake. It is slow, almost lazy in it's exploration of my softly smooth skin, and I keep my eyes tightly clasped in order to better experience the sensation. He drifts higher and higher and it seems that with every inch he gains my body becomes increasingly anxious. This caress in the darkest heart of night is unexpected after an intense quarrel that had me falling asleep with hurt feelings and murderous thoughts. My pain from harsh words spoken in anger coaxes my pride to resist, squeeze my legs tightly closed and bar the intruder admission, but I feel the lightest brush of fingertips against the softest part of my body and I submit.
Pride is no match for desire and I do not think I can desire any man more. He knows I am his even with harsh words and hurt feelings.
"When we are done, I promise we'll talk and I'll apologize, but let me say I'm sorry this way first," he whispers in my ear.
And I let him.