10-02-2016, 01:14 PM
Revol’s words set her handsome stranger to pulling away, disentangling himself from her embrace and eying her warily, his voice cold at first and then heavy with resignation and gentle rejection. And she tilts her head, blue eyes puzzled as she looks him over, studies the weight of his shoulders, the pain and determination in his eyes.
“Honey,” she says again, and her voice is just as gentle, just as careful, though not laden with his same guilt and self-recrimination. “Who ever said anything about mates? I barely know you. I don’t even know your name. I’m not trying to swear my life to you or bind you to me. Just because you’re not my mate doesn’t mean you’re no one. I can feel affection for you without being in love with you; I can enjoy your touch and your warmth and your passion without needing you to be mine alone forever.”
She steps closer, reaching out to brush her lips against his cheek. “You wanted to touch me. I wanted to touch you. That’s not something that happens to me very often.” Or ever, really, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially not right now. “I’ve got no expectations of you, nor any claim on you. But I think it’s safe enough to call you my lover, given how events unfolded last time we met. And you’re welcome to continue being exactly that if you want to. Or not, if you don’t.” And if the idea makes her heart ache, well that’s not on him now is it? And it needn’t be.
“We have good chemistry,” she adds, her eyelids drifting to half-closed as she remembers just how it had been, imagines how it could be again. “And I like you.” She smiles and meets his amber eyes, warmth lighting her own eyes and setting the blue to dancing just a bit. “You make me smile, and you make me…mmm…” Whoops, and perhaps her expression gets just a bit sultry there as she trails off and lets the memory of his touch rekindle the fire in her blood.
“I know we’re not together, honey,” she purrs, trying to stay focused on the conversation instead of telling him he’s talking too damn much and rubbing against him and encouraging him to go back to touching her instead. “Doesn’t mean this is nothing.”
“Honey,” she says again, and her voice is just as gentle, just as careful, though not laden with his same guilt and self-recrimination. “Who ever said anything about mates? I barely know you. I don’t even know your name. I’m not trying to swear my life to you or bind you to me. Just because you’re not my mate doesn’t mean you’re no one. I can feel affection for you without being in love with you; I can enjoy your touch and your warmth and your passion without needing you to be mine alone forever.”
She steps closer, reaching out to brush her lips against his cheek. “You wanted to touch me. I wanted to touch you. That’s not something that happens to me very often.” Or ever, really, but he doesn’t need to know that, especially not right now. “I’ve got no expectations of you, nor any claim on you. But I think it’s safe enough to call you my lover, given how events unfolded last time we met. And you’re welcome to continue being exactly that if you want to. Or not, if you don’t.” And if the idea makes her heart ache, well that’s not on him now is it? And it needn’t be.
“We have good chemistry,” she adds, her eyelids drifting to half-closed as she remembers just how it had been, imagines how it could be again. “And I like you.” She smiles and meets his amber eyes, warmth lighting her own eyes and setting the blue to dancing just a bit. “You make me smile, and you make me…mmm…” Whoops, and perhaps her expression gets just a bit sultry there as she trails off and lets the memory of his touch rekindle the fire in her blood.
“I know we’re not together, honey,” she purrs, trying to stay focused on the conversation instead of telling him he’s talking too damn much and rubbing against him and encouraging him to go back to touching her instead. “Doesn’t mean this is nothing.”