THE Woman
Once we had escaped from the captors, we had to get as far away as possible. I drove for two days before stopping and booking us in to a hotel, under the name Mr and Mrs Moriarty.
She was grateful, as you would expect seeing as I had just saved her life but she did not say it, she just looked at me. I could not let her die, the one woman who had ever moved me, matched me. THE woman. Even if I could not be with her I needed to know she was still out there, thriving, scheming, living.
I only intended to stay in the same hotel for one night at a time, before eventually taking her to a safe place I knew in the Czech Republic. But she slept for so long and I could not bring myself to wake her. Instead I watched her as she slept, my mind struggling to understand the feelings I had. I was not used to this, my mind betraying me instead of my body. But I was hypnotised by her.
Her mouth parted slightly, her brow furrowed and she let out a small cry in her sleep. I instantly reacted, my gaze becoming more focused ready to react to her. She was dreaming, her breathing became more irregular and erratic and I could tell it was more of a nightmare. I knew I should not wake her, that it could leave her disorientated and confused but I was torn as I wanted to comfort her. Tears escaped her eyes as she tossed her head. I moved to sit on the bed and placed my hand on hers. She instantly quietened and her breathing slowed and as it did I realised that my breathing was slowing too. I had not realised that I had begun to mirror her state of distress. I waited until she seemed to be settled and moved my hand and stood up, turning away to look out of the window. I had never felt this way before and it was confusing and overwhelming.
It was then that I felt her stir behind me. I dare not turn to face her and risk my expression giving away my inner turmoil. It was then that she placed her hand on my back, running her fingers down my spine. I shivered and was shocked at how easily my body gave me away. I felt her breath on the back of my neck and my head automatically lowered to allow her access. Her lips were so soft and tender as she slowly kissed the back of my neck and I closed my eyes, surrendering to the feelings washing over me. Her hands slowly slid down to mine at my side and she tugged on my right hand to pull me around to face her. She looked at me the same way she did when we were in Baker Street, with wide eyes, lips parted and I moved a step towards her. She was so experienced at this and I was such an amateur but even I could tell she was nervous and unsure of herself.
She was kneeling on the side of the bed, the shirt she had borrowed from me was hanging loose on her and was undone down to her chest. I had seen her naked before but the sight of her now, so close to me and so vulnerable, was more arousing to me. She leaned forward and I knew I should stop her, stop this from happening but I also knew I wanted this so I leaned in and once our lips touched there was no going back. It was slow and soft at first as our lips moved in time with each others, until her tongue slowly entered my mouth. I responded and soon the kiss was deepening, our tongues dancing together as my hands reached out to her waist to pull her closer. Our bodies were touching from thighs to chest and she could feel my body telling her I wanted more.
Her hands reached around to the front of my shirt and once undone she slid it from my shoulders. I broke off the kiss, breathless but could not take my eyes from her. She was such a temptress yet I knew she was not used to this type of connection during her usual encounters with men. I undid my belt and trousers and without thinking I slid them down along with my underwear. As I stepped out of them, I looked back up at her and she had not taken her eyes off of me. She moved to undo the few buttons that were fastening my shirt on her and then she let it slide down her shoulders. It was like seeing her flesh for the first time and I just wanted to touch her all over. She lay down on the bed and I followed and we lay together for the first time.
Afterwards, I could not take my eyes off of her. She was the most beautiful person I had ever seen. She told me she was not used to sex with feelings and it had been a long time since she had let anyone this close to her but the more she knew about me the more she wanted me. I told her that I knew deep inside that I wanted her the second I saw her, that no one had ever been able to disarm me the way she did. I was used to being unable to anticipate what was going to happen next yet at every turn she surprised me. She made me feel things I had never allowed myself to experience. Feelings were a distraction and something which happened to the body which I had only ever considered as transport for my brain. I knew I was different my whole life and it was because of this feeling I could never allow myself to get close to anyone. Mostly because no one thought like I did, so no one understood. Men were put off by my self belief and women could get no emotional response from me so gave up. Only two people ever broke my barriers, John and her.
We did not talk about Moriarty, it was not the time. We both knew that the hours were counting down too quickly and soon enough dawn broke and the conversation stopped. We knew it was time. She moved first, and went to the bathroom to clean up. I lay in the bed staring at the ceiling trying to fathom my feelings. In the pit of my stomach I felt like I was losing something that I would never have again. I knew I would never feel this way again or let anyone else in. She emerged from the bathroom, hair still wet from the shower, wrapped in a towel but I would not allow myself to look at her, adopting the previous front of indifference I had kept up around her before. I turned away from her and gathered my clothes, keeping my back to her while I dressed. I heard her gather up her clothes and dress behind me. I stayed stood looking out the window again, composing myself and I felt her come to stand next to me. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as my body betrayed my apparent lack of care. She was still wearing my shirt. She took my hand in hers and leant in to me as we stood there in silence, readying ourselves for the journey, and the inevitable goodbye which lay ahead.