Every word Kristina read was true, not just for the author, but for her right at that moment. A thirst built up in her. A thirst that no ounce of Scotch - or any other beverage Parker had offered - was going to quench. The only thing Parker could offer at that moment to satisfy Kristina was...Kristina gulped. Every inch of her perked up. Every. Inch. She crossed her legs, squeezing her thighs together against a delicious seeping, heat.
God, she had never wanted someone like this before; she had never wanted more than to have this woman take her right then and there.
On the other end of the couch, Parker held her glass of Scotch masterfully; her lips glistened moist with a sip she had just taken. Kristina could taste it.
"Is anything...coming up for you?" Parker asked thoughtfully - or did Kristina detect a suggestive tone in Parker's question. "You stopped reading."
Kristina took a swig of Scotch rather than answer the question. A bit dribbled down her blouse. She looked. They both looked. A button on Kristina's blouse had come undone. A hint of her bra showed, cupping a gentle, milk-white swell.
Parker held Kristina's focus, scanning her from head to toe. She saw a feisty, unapologetic young woman determined to be who she was despite the mistakes she had made, despite the people she had wronged. In Kristina, Parker also saw an opportunity to be outside of herself, a chance to turn her back on all the conventions that marriage and professorship had placed on her over the years. All those achievements that Parker had strived for yet resented because they quashed her fire; a spark that Kristina rekindled - ignited! - that made her feel alive. Kristina made Parker feel alive again.
Kristina's eyes were glazed over yet intent. Her lips slightly parted, yet still. They were more supple than Parker ever noticed before. Her thighs appeared soft to the touch. Parker didn't make any effort to avert her eyes from Kristina's open blouse which beaconed and receded with every quickening breath Kristina took. Parker's eyes lingered on Kristina's small waist. Parker looked at all of her; a twinge of arousal pierced her sense of reason.
This young woman. This tipsy young woman…was... so…vulnerable.
"We should…," Parker said as she leaned forward, inches closer to Kristina, and placed her glass of Scotch on the table.
"...we should get you home," Parker continued, seeming to shake herself out of a reverie. "It's getting late and…"
"And...what?" Kristina purred. "Twelve hours is a long shift."
'...every experiment in the great mahogany bed…',rippled the surface tension of their thoughts.
Their eyes locked on one another's in a fierce battle of will and temptation; challenge and surrender. This time, Kristina didn't break eye contact. Her sly grin was like a raised pawn preparing to checkmate.
"It's getting late," Parker said firmly, slightly raising her voice. "And I have to get up early. My wife and I have plans."
"Of course," Kristina snidely answered. She put her Scotch glass down on the coffee table with such vehemence they thought it would shatter. The harsh clink startled both of them.
Kristina wobbled as she stood up. She only had a couple of sips and couldn't understand why she felt so tipsy.
Parker reached for Kristina's arm to steady her, then a palm on the small of Kristina's back to brace her. Their angst-inspired tango made real. They now touched and that touch, touched upon the unspoken that had been building up all evening; the unspoken they felt for one another.
Parker wanted to hold Kristina close to her; wrap her arms around this aspiring student in whom she saw a promising future. A young woman she wanted to mentor and guide like Parker wished she had been when she was going through her own journey of self discovery. Kristina wanted Parker to hold her too but the way couples do just before they start making love.
Parker snapped her hands off Kristina's body like she had been burned.
"I'll drive you home," Parker said, looking about for her car keys.
"Don't bother I barely drank anything," Kristina said as she shouldered her way past Parker and stomped to the front door. Kristina handled the knob but couldn't turn it to leave.
"Then let me call you a cab," Parker said, knowing at that moment, with the way they were both feeling, it was better to concede the offer to drive her home. Parker couldn't stand being alone in the same space with Kristina any longer for the same reason that she wanted to be alone in the same space with Kristina.
"You can take the book with you," Parker offered, hesitant, wondering if she had already proposed too much.
Defiant, Kristina abruptly turned the knob to let herself out. The door clicked open but Kristina just stood there, angry and frustrated. Angry that she didn't get the response she wanted and frustrated that she didn't get the release she needed; the release she so badly wanted Parker to give her. A borrowed book felt like a pathetic loser, consolation.
'Remembering now how she enters me...her fingers at the core and center of consciousness, places within me I knew not…After that there was no going back.'
Seething with unacknowledged entitlement, Kristina stomped back into the living room, grabbed the book, then let herself out of Parker's house with a dissatisfied slam.