Tangled Silence

It began with silence. Not the cold kind, but the kind that pulsed with heat. They had sat on the couch for hours, talking. Words had poured like rain—about Davina, about regret, about the weight of lost time. But now, neither of them spoke. And yet, everything was being said.

Dave's fingers brushed against Gina's as he took her wine glass, set it on the side table, and leaned in without asking. She met his kiss without hesitation, her mouth already parted, hungry. Their mouths found each other like a memory returned.

He pulled her into his lap, and she straddled him in one smooth motion, silk robe falling open to reveal the bare warmth beneath. Her hands tangled in his hair as he kissed her neck, her collarbone, the soft dip between her breasts.

Gina gasped softly when his hands cupped her thighs and pressed her hips down against his hardness. It had been ten years, but nothing about their rhythm had faded. If anything, the absence had sharpened the hunger.

"You feel the same," he murmured against her skin.

She guided his mouth back to hers, eyes dark with desire. "And you still know how to handle me."

He stood with her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, rain pattering against the windows like drums of a distant war. He laid her on the sheets, slid out of his shirt and joggers, and crawled over her slowly, reverently.

The minutes blurred. The only sounds were breathless moans, the creak of the bed, and whispered names. They explored old paths like new lovers, rediscovering each other in ways that felt deeper than before. This wasn't just sex. It was release. Reunion. Reverence.

When he finally collapsed beside her, Gina curled against his chest, their bodies slick with sweat and the heat of memory. She traced her fingers over his chest.

"I forgot how easy it is to lose myself with you," she whispered.

Dave turned and kissed her forehead. "Then maybe we both deserve to be found again."

But beneath that softness, Gina's mind was already back to the game. Back to strategy. Because love was a luxury—and luxuries could be stolen.