“I want to kiss you, Tim.”
“I think I want that, too. Let’s go outside.”
Taking my hand again, Tim led us back to the balcony, away from the doorway, to one of the darker corners on the right side. Leaning against the cool brick wall, Tim pulls me to him, raises his hands to my face, and caresses my skin.
“I’ve always thought you were beautiful, if somewhat aloof. Now I understand why. Kiss me, John.”
* * * *
I place my hands on his face, gently. Starting with his forehead, I place soft kisses all over his face, lingering on his cheekbones, so finely made. When I reach his mouth, I use my thumbs to caress the delicate skin on each side, silently asking him to open for me. Eyes falling closed, Tim yields to the pressure. He tilts his head slightly and gives me an open-mouthed kiss, hungry and wanting.
I grab hold of his head, hanging on for dear life as I fall prey to his blistering kiss, assaulted on all sides by his taste, smell, just the press of his body against mine.