On the day of departure, Katherine is zipping the travel bag and Eliza is sitting right next to it, on the edge of the bed.
"Did we forget anything?" she asks.
"Dear, I'm coming back in three days — I hardly need half the things you put in there."
"I'm simply excited for you. It's the first time you're leaving the house."
Eliza watches her. "Yeah, I guess it's nice. But why do I have a feeling you're excited for you?"
She widens her eyes. Eliza snorts. "Don't give me that fake outraged look, I can spot it a mile away —it comes with experience. What are you plotting?"
Katherine smiles then mimes zipping her lips.
"Ooh, so it is something juicy?"
There is a knock on the door. Both turn as Steve pops his head in.
"Sorry to interrupt but we'll be late if we don't leave in the next 10 minutes."
"Thank you, dear." Eliza answers.
He grins politely and closes the door. Eliza's eyes dart back and forth between the door and the young woman.
"Hmm," she muses aloud. "So, it is something risqué?"
Katherine lets out a little sound. "I'm pleading the fifth!" she exclaims.
Eliza rolls her eyes. "Fine. Don't say anything," the woman gives up. She gets up and stands before her; her voice softens. "But let me tell you this: nobody deserves it more than you, and I'm happy for you…regarding that thing that is obviously not happening."
She winks at her, and Katherine pats her arm softly with a grateful smile.
The ladies come down the stairs where Steve is waiting by the door entrance. He takes the bag from Katherine and heads out to the car.
Eliza turns to Katherine.
"I'll take care of your house," she says.
"I know I could not leave it in better hands."
Katherine smiles warmly then leans in to hold her in her arms. "I'll miss you. Just come back soon."
She hears her smile. "But not too soon either," Eliza answers cheekily.
Steve drops off Eliza at the stop and waits with her till the coach arrives. When it pulls over, he hands the bag over to the driver and turns to Eliza.
She pats his arms.
"Have fun," she says with a knowing smile and gets on the coach.
He smiles back and waves a bit awkwardly.
On his way back to the house, Steve grows nervous. The prospect of being all alone with Katherine is tantalizing as much as it is terrifying. He has been alone with Natasha a hundred times, more than he can count, but it is the first time the two will meet with romantic outlooks.
They have not really talked since she kissed him and the irrational concern she may have seconds thoughts about it begins to creep in.
He pulls over about an hour after leaving with Eliza and pauses, holding the wheel tight. He breathes in slowly, glances at his reflection in the rear mirror.
When he finally comes into the house, Katherine is watering Eliza's plants with much care. She steps out of the patio, and stares at him, standing still.
"Hey," she says.
"Hi."
It goes silent again. There they were thinking it would be easier when Eliza would be gone but now that she is they can't find anything to tell each other. It is like when you have been waiting to make that jump but you find yourself frozen at the edge of the cliff when the time comes. The exhilaration is so intense, much more heightened than what your mind could conceive, that it's paralyzing.
But she isn't like everybody else. She overpowers the exhilaration, no matter how big, owns it, and squishes it between her fingers. She smiles at him.
"So, about that dinner. Would tonight work for you?"
He nods. "Tonight, yes. Any night. I could even cook us something now."
Katherine wrinkles her nose and laughs. "I don't think a brunch would be as romantic," she comments. "And I have a few things to finish first. Gotta head to town for some errands."
He snorts. "Yeah. Me too, actually."
She walks over to him and slowly brushes her hand over his arm.
"Shall we say 6, then?"
Her physical closeness takes his breath away, brings back a flood of overwhelming sensations from the night before.
"Can't wait," he murmurs with a smile.
After hours of small works done all around the house without much attention, the evening comes around. Steve returns from a walk with Riley (mostly to pass the time) and goes upstairs to his room.
He has a shower, shaves and puts on one of his favorite shirts, navy, with a pair of black jeans and a leather belt. He brushes his hair and pats his cheeks with a bit of cologne.
He then goes downstairs to the kitchen and starts gathering all the ingredients and equipment. He has been thinking about the meal he will cook since the night before — even searched on Google for some ideas. He bought a bottle of red wine on his way back from the coach stop.
He sets the table and finds a couple of candles in one of the drawers, barely used.
Heeled-shoes echo in the staircase and up to the room. He turns around and freezes, stunned by the ravishing sight before him. Katherine is standing in an elegant maroon strap dress which falls slightly above the knee. Her hair is tied up in a bun with a golden hairpin, a few strands of hair loosely framing her face. Her eyes are a little made-up with black and her lips are rouged, looking fuller and more luscious than usual. All he's thinking is how badly he wants to taste them again.
A smirk tugs at those same kissable lips as she points at something behind him.
"You know we only use those when the lights go out," she remarks with a cheeky smile. He glances at the candles lit on the table.
"I can make the fuse box trip if you like."
She chuckles.
He gazes at her intently. "You look stunning."
She softly runs her palm down her waist and his pupils dilate as his mind wanders to imagine it is his hand doing it. "Thank you," she says. "I saw it on display as I walked past the store today."
Boiling water takes him out of his daze and he rushes back into the kitchen.
"Can I help?" she asks.
He puts the lip on the pot and comes back to her.
"You're not doing anything tonight."
He holds her hand and takes her to the counter where she sits on one of the stools.
"What's the plat du jour?" she purrs with mild interest.
"Chicken Piccata Pasta," he answers.
She arches an eyebrow. "Sounds promising."
They talk for most of the time he prepares the dish, sharing small stories about the Louisiana life. Then they go to the table and he serves the meal. He then opens the bottle of wine and pours themselves a glass.
She dips her fork into the pasta and takes a mouthful. He watches her expectantly, slightly nervous.
"It's really good," she says.
He lets out a little sigh of relief and the pressure begins to wane.
"So what happens the first time you cooked us dinner?"
He snorts embarrassingly. "I burned the food," he pauses and cringes. "And burned my hand."
"Can it get more cliché than that?" she teases.
"I broke a glass too," he admits with a sheepish grin.
Katherine bursts into laughter. "Well, clearly you have improved…a lot."
They have another glass of wine and talk some more. Laugh heartily. The conversation flows like only they have the secret. After a while, Steve picks up the empty plates and brings them back to the kitchen.
He returns, to her surprise, with another plate. Smaller. He puts it down in front of her with two spoons.
"What's a meal without dessert?" he says, presenting the next course.
She looks down at the chocolate fondant standing in the middle of the plate, covered with cherry coulis.
"You made this?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
Steve smiles. "Earlier today," he says then winces slightly. "But I burned the other one…Sorry. Could only save this one."
Katherine laughs. She props her forearm on the wooden table and leans forward. She strokes his face with her thumb and smiles fondly. "You're not like the others, are you?" she murmurs musingly, with a voice filled with content.
She turns her attention back on the cake and picks up the spoon. After eating half of the cake, she cuts another piece, she takes the spoon to her mouth, lets the chocolate melt into her mouth. She lets out a small moan of pleasure that gives him goosebumps and makes his fantasies skyrocket.
She covers her mouth with the back of her hand and grins sheepishly.
"Sorry," she says.
"Don't be. But —and don't take it the wrong way —," he pauses, rubbing his jaw, "I want to be the one to make you moan like that."
His words don't astound her. She makes the spoon dangle between her fingers and eyes him intently, drills a hole right into his soul.
"Look who's being brazen now," she comments light-heartedly before pressing the tip of the spoon between her lips.
He clears his throat and leans in, unapologetic and tranquil.
"In the past, I made the mistake of waiting too long, then I did it again with you for nine years. Frankly, I don't want to waste another minute with you. Not anymore."
She smirks. "I like that."
A moment later, he gets up and takes some dishes away. When he comes back, Katherine is leaning on the table, one leg up on the chair nearby. Her fair skin glows in the candlelight and he makes out the luscious curves of her body underneath her dress.
He stands before her while she sips what's left of the wine. She puts it down on the table and gently rolls the foot along the surface. He presses a hand on hers, stopping the motion.
She looks up and smiles. She grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him in. Their lips crush hard, ardently, fueled by the fiery spirit shrouding their minds, running in their blood. The kiss is eager, passionate and betrays untold desires and fantasies. It is less hesitant than the one from the night before, more demanding and ambitious now — they are past longing to know the taste and now yearn to explore its savor. His hands shamelessly take hold of her body, seize it to make it his as he leans over her. She reclines on the table and pulls him along. Her hand reaches for support but smashes the glass and some cutlery instead. It clatters loudly on the floor but they don't acknowledge it.
His belly is full, but his whole body, insatiable of her, is loudly calling for more. Her fingers thread into his hair while parting her lips.
The noise surprises Riley who comes running to the dining room, barking loudly turning the whole moment into an uproar. Katherine breaks the kiss and drops her head on the table and sighs. She urges Riley to go quiet. Steve moves away and stands back up, readjusting his shirt.
He takes her hand and pulls her up the table. While she goes to pet Riley and calms her down, Steve picks up the broken glass and the cutlery and heads into the kitchen. She joins him a couple of minutes later and together, they wash and wipe dry the dishes with a smile upon their faces.
The tension dies down and bantering resumes. Nearly an hour later, they switch off the lights downstairs and head to the top floor.
Her bedroom is the first in the hall. They come to stand in front of it and look at each other.
His whole body quivers at the thought of stepping through that door with her but his chivalry catches him up, ties him down.
He scratches the side of his head and glances down, clearing his throat. Katherine is eyeing him inquisitively.
"Thank you for your company tonight," he says, avoiding eye contact as a way to escape temptation.
She reaches for his hand, grasps it with her thin fingers and slips them between his, toying with it.
She steps backward, presses all of her back against the door as a smirk playing on her lips. Her eyes probing him alluringly, she slips her other hand behind her back and turns the knob. The door opens without a noise, casting the light in the hall into her room. He remains standing still. Still facing him, she steps inside and pulls him in with her. He closes the door behind him with a soft push of the hand.
The bedroom is bathed in darkness with only the moon flaunting its light through the open window. The bed, right in the center, is covered with white linen with a large mosquito net draped over it. There is a subtle scent of perfume in the air.
They stand in front of each other without saying a single word for a little while, with nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing in the air. She steps closer to him and locks eyes with him. She lifts her hands up to his shirt and unbuttons the first button, then slip down to the next, and the next. His breathing grows shallow and his heartbeat quickens at every new button she loosens up. Her eyes, after stripping his soul bare, veer down to his chest and slowly unclothe him as do her hands. They eventually reach the last button and her fingers graze the base of his abdomen, right above his jeans, sending shivers through his core.
Then her fingers slide up along the edges of the shirt. She slips them under the fabric, along his collarbones and slowly takes the shirt off of him. It falls on the rug without a sound.
Her eyes dart back into his eyes, dilate visibly before they drop again to behold him. After several seconds of silent contemplation, she stares into his eyes again, slightly biting her lip.
His hands fall under the same spell. They come to her arms and his thumbs slip under the fine straps of her dress and pushes down to glide down the smooth curves of her shoulders. He then slips his forefinger under the fabric of her bust and slides it along the fabric to the side. He pinches the puller and the zipper slowly grinds open. The fabric unabashedly spreads apart, revealing the nape of her waist. Then, hands on her hips, he pulls the dress down which tumbles to the floor without resistance.
Steve takes in the bewitching sight of her small, slender body and the red lace underwear she is wearing. She lets him revel and, taking a hand to her head, pulls out the hairpin in which her hair is trapped. It cascades down her face in wild, flaming waves.
They devour each other with the eyes first, promising to venture through lands of unfathomable pleasures. And then, when they have reached the limit of what their patience can take, they come at each other. Mouth against mouth, bodies against bodies crashing in a languorous embrace. His arms wrap around her waist, his hands slide under to her buttocks and scoop her up as her knees clasp around his waist.
He flips them both around and hastily lays her stupendous body, ivory chest of unimaginable treasures, on the bed. He lies on top of her as she pulls his waist down against her and begins to leave a trail of heated kisses down her throat and along her sharp collarbone. Her skin awakens, sets ablaze and covers in goosebumps on every inch his lips and tongue touch.
Her breathing grows rapid and jerky as her body begins to twitch as his mouth travels around her breasts, down to her navel. Her back arches in a soft moan as her arm jerks up to his head and she clutches a clump of his hair in a tight grip.
"Don't stop," she breathes out, wrapping her thighs around his chest as he continues to make his way down to her hip bone.
Her skin is smooth and flavored, inviting and kissable. It's an endless road for him to explore and meander through, to delve into and get lost in. Meanwhile, her hands wander across his muscly back and taut arms, get familiar with their bulges
The lingerie soon relinquishes to his fervent dominion and flies across the room.
Their embrace, ardent and restless, crests as Katherine arches her back, stretches out her arm and clutches the cotton sheet, releasing a long and deep moan that echoes through the room. Her skin gleams under the moonlight and her body trembles gently as she gulps down and catches her breath. His panting begins to wane and he looks down at her, softly running his hand along her body.
Her eyes regain focus and look into his. She smiles and cups his face.
"You okay?" he asks.
She nods and runs her thumb along his bottom lip. "I'm great," she murmurs.
"Kat," he blurts out, "I —"
She lifts her head and presses her lips with his, lightly brushes them with the tip of her tongue, delights in their taste. Then her head falls back into the feather pillow.
He drops his head, nestles into her neck and wraps his arms tight around her naked body.
He has her all night, and always.
Pitch dark sky with a purple stream of lights striped over it. It is a cold, somber night. A sunless world. The ominous cliff rules over it like a tyrant. Her body is dangling in the air, feet flapping. Her arm is outstretched but her hand is open, does not cling back.
Her tears fill up with heavy, fated tears. Her lips tremble in nameless fear.
"It's okay," she whispers softly and nods reassuringly. She is calm and accepting. Resigned but determined.
She sways, pushes her feet against the sharp rock and propels herself out of the strong, disobedient grip. She falls, plunges into the ghostly abyss. Comes dangerously close to the hard, ruthless ground.
His eyes break wide open with a pounding heart. Above him, a thin net under a white ceiling. The ache he feels (and has lived with for months) is unbearable; he covers his face with his hand and closes his eyes — a tear escapes and rolls down his temple. He flips his head, finds Katherine sleeping peacefully and regains composure.
He concentrates on every sensation his body feels to find his bearings again and reassure himself his terrible nightmare is no longer a reality.
The electric fan blows through the warm room and makes the mosquito net wave. His fingers thread through her red hair and he shifts closer to her. He presses his body against her back, feels the mesmerizing motion of her breathing, relishes in the astoundingly beautiful reality he is in. His fingers travel along her arm and he breathes in the scent in her neck. He begins to kiss it, tenderly, lovingly, cravingly.
Her body begins to shift under his kisses calling for affection and comfort. She drops her head back against him, allows full passage to her throat and cleavage, moaning softly.
She then turns around to face him; he pauses in his kissing and smiles upon seeing her tranquil expression.
"I need you," he whispers with a slightly broken expression. "I want you."
She puckers her lips and brushes his mouth. Chastely first then parts her lips. She rises like an angel and moves across to straddle him. The sheet around her bust glides down the nape of her waist, unveiling her splendid figure.
She brushes her ruffled hair out of her face.
"I'm here with you," she whispers after leaning down just above his face.
She kisses his mouth languorously and sucks his bottom lip as she begins to sway her hips. He closes his eyes, taken and enwrapped by a rush of pleasure.