His smile, quicksilver on a midnight sigh. Illuminating needs I thought had resigned. My skin heated in sin and savagery, though he did not touch me. But he met my gaze, an unspoken promise in his eyes. Desperation lurked in mine. I wanted to siphon my soul and pour it unfiltered into him. But doubt flickered and flared … would he drink me in?
My sigh stuttered as I sought a definition to my purpose. His dimples deepened, giving my heart room to swim. Hope constricted, I knew not where to begin. But my words slipped past my cowardly lips and dropped into the distance between us. The weight of them throwing us both off balance.
He reached for stability, not for me. I was chaos in denim and silk, a nightmare foreshadowing his dream. He took one last look. An apology he didn’t owe me drifted through the breeze. It tasted of sea salt and cinnamon, the burn of regret and sweet desire. I licked my lips, savoring the taste of a fantasy I would never devour.