Breathless – Part two:
I am weary about this, not sounding very 'Jack,' but I loved writing it and so hope you'll forgive me in the process. :)
Rose's eyes sparkled beneath the dim light of the beaded chandeliers above their heads. The wondrous sapphire and diamond Heart and yet, the only thing which captured any part of me was her sincerity.
Wearing only this.
I had once told her that I couldn't breathe, or think, when submerged into icy cold waters back home in Wisconsin, but that was nothing compared to the breathlessness that I felt in that moment.
All right.
It was all that I could manage to say. Her eyes never wavered, but suddenly my stomach was twisting and turning into a million different knots and I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the simplest touch of her fingertips as she took the diamond from my grasp in order to retrieve it. That silly second sparked enough of a fire, almost the same amount that pressing my lips to hers at the bow had done so.
Rose was passionate. Openly so. And finding that sort of spirit within another human being was rare but here was a woman wishing to open herself to me in such a way that I was sure would be a first.
I shall go prepare. Make yourself comfortable.
I could only watch as she moved with such a purpose towards a door and disappeared into the room without glancing back. Behind her, she had left me a puddle of nerves. It was then, that I recalled my own purpose; I was an artist, or something of the sort. I had never declined drawing a subject, and had never been emotionally involved with one either.
Shit.
I ran my fingers through my hair, moving it away from my eyes in order to gain some perspective and clarity on the events of the last minute or so. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the divan couch with a Monet resting against it, casually, as though it had very little value. The fire burned beautifully beside it and the lighting was bright enough for him to witness his subject where she could lay—right there on the couch.
Shit. This time I said it aloud.
I removed my jacket, and rolled up my sleeves in order to get to work and clear my mind so that I could concentrate on the task at hand. Drawing came as easily to me as breathing; with a piece of charcoal in my hand, nothing else mattered than the object of my attention, but that had never also been the object of my desires. Exhaling out the nerves, the frustration and inability to concentrate, I unhooked my suspenders from my shoulders and allowed them to drop about my legs. I always require full freedom to move when I work, and then, as soon as I had the small part of been able to move, I started to rearrange the cushions of the divan, and picture just how the orange glow of the fire would bath her hair in a golden glow, and how it would illuminate the creamy hue of her skin.
Shit.
My heart pounded. Fast and hard. Like it had in the gymnasium, but even more so at the bow. When I had seen her there, so vibrant and beautiful beneath the glorious coloured palette of the sunset, I stopped breathing. The world stopped moving. The only thought I had was to just let her fly. To allow her to see what was beyond the walls of society. What was even beyond the ship. Beyond just me and her. It was caressing her hands, feeling the gentle shivers beneath her corset as my hands steadied her waist which caused everything to change. To tilt. To stop. Even though we soared. It had been a risk, to kiss her, right there in front of the entire world but as I moved towards her, she had come towards me. There was an inevitable pull and a shift in the circumstances. The way that her hesitance shone in that first touch, and then, her hands were threading through my hair, setting my nerve endings on fire as she gently tugged to pull me into her closer, to deepen everything about us. Our fingers were entwined. My hands clasping to her waist. Her touch to my face was magic. Her tongue moving against mine, tasting and teasing was beyond what I would ever imagine a kiss could be. Beyond how a woman could taste. If it was her first kiss, then I was honoured, astounded and completely under her brilliant spell.
As I blinked, I realised that I was sharpening my charcoal, suddenly growing lost in the thoughts of kissing her once again. The fire crackled, the scratching of my knife upon the tip of charcoal and then, I adjusted my sketchpad to a clean page. A blank space. Only an artist knew the frustration of such a thing but soon, it would be filled with the most beautiful lines. I started scratching, to sharpen the tip more, it was as though I was doing it out of some sort of internal worry or fear, because I noticed that my fingers were trembling then and I was almost unable to continue as such a pace until a click broke the silence-
-A door. A black figure appeared there on the threshold and the pain in my chest caused me to almost gasp. I could only watch her approach me, wearing nothing but a silken kimono which gave a glimpse of the outline of her breast. Gave a peek at the shaded area below her naval. Her eyes though, were playful and bright.
The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a porcelain doll. As a paying customer, I do expect to get what I want.
Rose tossed me a ten cents piece, and I caught it to my belly, with an amused grin. I could only watch her face, knowing that even lowering my gaze below her chin would cause every single one of my nerve endings to spark.
A second later, she reached to part the kimono though, I leaned back and I sensed her breathing stop when mine did. We both stopped. Everything else did.
Once the garment had fallen to the floor, I was stricken. My throat worked to swallow but it couldn't. Everything was still and yet I was so dizzy. The knot in my stomach tightened to an extreme tightness and then it unfastened just as fast as though I was falling from the bow of the ship into the freezing cold waters below, except I wasn't. The heat from the fire in the hearth expelled a dry warmth about the small room but it was the flow of heat which radiated from Rose's dazed gaze which caused the flush to come to my cheeks. I could feel it.
As my eyes glanced down the length of Rose's body. From the way in which her curls hung loosely about her shoulders, to her creamy skin, the valley which ran down between her full breasts and the shape and size of her curved hip. The shaded area below her naval. The wonderful way in which her legs were shaped and then, she stepped forward, closer, into the glow of the fire and I was unable to even move. Our eyes met for that brief second and I was riveted by her.
Out of nowhere, like a gift from God, my inability to function was cleared and I was able to become an artist appreciating their subject once more.
Over on the bed, I mean, the couch.
Rose moved then, and her body swayed lushly as she went. As she moved to the couch, to position herself, I was captured by her beauty even more. She must have known just how nervous that I was. Sensed just what was transpiring between us both. It was ironic, how I felt now, in comparison to the ladies I had sketched in Paris. They were naked; beautifully laid out before me to view and to sketch as I pleased and yet, there was something serene and sweet about Rose. She was unsure of how to lay, how to appear when laid before me and yet, she looked to be the most beautiful thing that had ever lived. Anything ever painted upon a canvas were completely dull in comparison to her.
Moments later, my hands were finally able to move. I started to work. To create some lines. They were fine, some thicker and suddenly they formed something and from it emerged the outline of a woman. Of a curved body. Of the Heart of the Ocean which lay in the centre of her chest, right between the dip of her breastbone. I watched how her breathing seemed to come and go. As though she was just as breathless as I was. As though, the nerves were evident. It simmered. I glanced back to her eyes, to see how she watched me and they burned brightly. The erotic desire of the moment threatened to lose my concentration. My hands were steady for the moment but they threatened to stop. I glanced back to the spot where I was working, and then, started to shade the area below her naval where a thatch of dark hair nestled and my cheeks were suddenly in flames. She sensed it, teasing me so, but I had to welcome her joke for I needed the lull in concentration before all I could do was simply stare at the wondrous sight of her.
We fell silent for the final part. I watched how her belly moved with her breathing. How she twitched at times. How I could watch her laid there forever. Each time our eyes met; I was engulfed in flames by her fire.
I smudged over the final details, still feeling how hot my cheeks were when I watched her now unabashed nakedness. I noticed her watch upon me; on my hands, upon my eyes. I wished to know the contents of her head. If she was as erratic as I was.
Date it, Jack. I want to always remember this night.
Rose moved; her limbs looked as though they were boneless as she retrieved the kimono which was on the floor. Coming towards me, her hands fell onto my shoulders, and I tensed at her touch. I tensed at her nearness. I wrote my initials on the edge, the date and her name right there; Rose. The drawing itself spoke volumes of the woman Rose was in that very second.
Thank you, it was all that I could manage to hear through the cloud of intoxication. I closed the portfolio and handed the entire thing to her. I watched and my eyes went to her lips, as she was so close to feel my breathing upon her face and she closed the gap between us both, kissing me just once but I went to kiss her again and she giggled into my mouth as I didn't release her lips as she tried to pull the portfolio from the grasp but I pulled it back, causing her to stumble forward. I was too lost in her to stop the silly game in which we had started to play. It was a dangerous one. But it couldn't be stopped now. Both of us were about to be plunged into the unknown.