Indian Summer

Amanda is staying with Sidney for a few days as her house has been burgled, and can't stay with her Fiance as they're not married yet.

Sidney adjusts his collar, and coughs slightly. Is it hot in here?

'A little warm in here isn't it?' He laughs and stands up, and reaches to the window above his desk to open it.

'Scorching!' Amanda replies behind him.

Damn those smocks, she thinks as she watches his movement, her eyes glancing from over her book. She wants to see more of him, but makes do with the light bouncing off his large hands and wrists, a taster of the muscular arms that gracefully thrust open the window.

Oh, she knows she shouldn't entertain such ideas. But she can't help it. He's hot.

He sits back down and frowns at the blank paper on his typewriter. He's supposed to be writing his sermon, but all he's done is just that one word. His eyes pass over his Theology book again, but he can't concentrate. He can feel Amanda. And he knows she can't be concentrating either. It's pretty obvious the heat in the room isn't just the Indian summer.

He knows there's this tension between them. It had always been there, the moment they met again as adult. But him and her as a couple? It could never be. Her, a sophisticated, modern girl, the type who came from wealth, would marry rich and spend her days having fun and in luxury. Whilst he was a Vicar. Sure, he might like a strong whiskey and a good Jazz record, but he was still a man who would spend his life in modesty, searching for meaning and helping others. Obviously he would marry a girl who could be a Vicar's wife, along his side in everything he did. He knew that as much as they liked each other, as much tension as there might be between them, it could never work. Unless...no. He didn't think Amanda could ever live the kind of life he wanted to live. And he could never ask it of her.

'Damn you Amanda, it's hard to write sermons with someone in the room!' He says half laughing, half stern turning around to look at her.

'Couldn't you have found somewhere else to read, what's that? Pride and Prejudice? How very original!'

She knows he's teasing. 'It's a classic for a reason! Fun, confidant, modern girl falls for handsome, self righteous, brooding man. It's a hot topic.'

He pauses and looks at her whilst she grins at him. There she is, the back of the room, in her blue summer dress cut just a little too low (for a Vicarage) at the front.

'Beautiful.' He says, forgetting himself. 'Urm, I mean, wasn't she supposed to be beautiful too?'

He turns back to his desk, blushing.

She returns her gaze to her book, and grins even more.

Sidney stares blankly at his paper, hands tensed above the keys. This is no use, he thinks as he reaches past the slightly dishevelled mess of books and papers to his trusty whisky decanter. The crystalline sparkles in the light as Sidney pours himself a generous drop and presses the cool glass to his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment, before passing it to his lips.

'You know, you could read that outside in the garden?' Sidney suggests, not moving around.

'Oh, no! Not with old Mrs Maguire keeping watch! I'll stay in here thanks.'

'Fine'. Sidney sighs.

Amanda looked up at Sidney, the light pouring in from the window onto his thick golden hair. He runs his hands through it, then lifts up the glass with his strong, lean arms to his thick, sensual lips. She can't help her grip tighten on the book, and her face flushes.

He stands up, walks over to his bookcase and picks up another book.

'More inspiration!' He laughs and looks over to her. Then he pauses. 'You know, I probably shouldn't do this, but Keating owes me a favour. I'll get them to transfer your case over to the department. Me and Keating will get onto it straight away. I'm not going to let the person who did this get away with it.'

'Sidney, you're so kind! You've been more than a help, already, what with letting me stay here. Are you sure?'

'Yes, not at all. And you can stay here for as long as you need.'

He eyes look into Amanda's for just a second too long. His large, blue eyes, slightly misty. He looks away.

'Yeah, I don't mind!' He laughs. 'As long as you leave me in peace to finish my sermon!'

She laughed.

He was so nice! Why was he always so nice, tormenting her so! She knew she shouldn't even be here. That she should run back to her Fiance. The kind of man who could give her a wealthy, pleasant, comfortable life. The kind of life she was supposed to have. But she always kept going back to Sidney. It wasn't just his looks, or his charm, it was kindness and generosity that keep reeling her back in, over and over again. But she knew this was all it could be. Friendship. She could never live this sort of life, and he knew it. At least, she didn't think she could, but whenever she saw Sidney, and the kind look in his big blue eyes, she sometimes thought she might.

Ah, but then he didn't make it easy, damn him! He had never properly persued her, it was all such a guessing game.

'OK, I'll be quiet!' She says.

And for while she does, pretending to read her book, whilst he's really thinking about Sidney, and the heat and the fact he's sitting there wiping the sweat from his brow and pretending not to notice she's there, not getting any work done at all.

Standing up, her heels slowly clack on the wooden floor. He turns around.

'I'll give you a back massage. It will relax you!'

Then she places her hands on his shoulders, and slowly pulls down his robes, revealing the white shirt underneath. The heat of his skin pulsates underneath, whilst she rubs his wide, muscular shoulders. This was too much, but she can't help it.

She can smell his gorgeous, earthy, musky smell. She breathes in heavily, drinking it in.

She shuts her eyes briefly and as she does, she feels one of his large, warm hands reach onto hers. Her breath quickens and her body begins to pulse with heat. Is this really happening? Her hand begins to tense up and she knows she should pull away. But she doesn't. She's never wanted anyone more than she wants him, now. And nor has he.

And in one swift, but gentle movement, he turns around and takes her with his strong, muscular arms onto his lap, his breathing heavier and his blue eyes, misty, gazes into hers. His firm but gentle hand grips her waist, the other slowly strokes her hair, then cheek, and lips. Then he pulls her closer, her breasts tight against his strong, firm body, and places his smooth large lips against hers, his tongue gently enters her mouth and devours her.

He tastes of whiskey. She moans and runs her hands through his golden hair, and then onto his hard, muscular shoulders. He moans as well and starts to unbutton her top, his hand gently but firmly caressing her breasts over the cotton. She sighs and starts to lift his top off, which dishevels his hair even more, and she runs her hands over his hard, toned chest. He then gently, but hurriedly lifts her top off, leaving just her bra and kisses her chest, his arms wrapped around her waist. Then he looks up to her, stops for a second and they both know they can't fight this. She unzips his trousers and pulls her close. Staring into each other's eyes, then kissing, they hold each other tight, panting, breathless.

When they are finished, they stay, and he holds her. They both don't know how long, or if this will last, but are both certain that it was beautiful.