[f4a] just coffee...

It was just coffee. We'd both agreed to be civil, to behave, to respect boundaries. His business trips finally brought him halfway across the world to me, closing the distance that made my heart ache so many nights, filling the ocean and making even a hug possible. Nothing more could ever happen; we could never be what either of us has dreamed of, but knowing that never seemed to sate the desire even a little bit. The longer it went on, the stronger I felt the pull towards him.

Sitting here now, seeing his face light up when he spots me, his cool charm, his confident strut. It took everything in me not to run to him, to press my lips against his. Instead, I stood and caught a glimpse of his small lip bite just as he came in for a hug.

It was all innocent enough. Lattes were ordered, the usual small talk filling the space between us, actual stimulating conversation coming easily to us. The hours pass like minutes. More coffee consumed. A shared piece of coffee cake. A coy smile as I tuck a strand hair behind my ear, looking up to meet his gaze that catches my every move, hanging onto each one like he hangs on to my words. A small lip bite as his hand crosses the table, brushing a stray crumb from the very corner of my smirk, my eyes shoot a look that challenges his resolve, and hints at my desire to break my own. But I can't. We can't.

The day turns to night and the crowd surrounding us changes multiple times over. We say our goodbyes eventually, our 'speak to you soon' not nearly fulfilling enough. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close. I inhale his subtle scent that I'm already so familiar with as my cheek tucks against his shoulder. The angel on my shoulder tells me it's time to pull away. The devil on the other urges me to press my lips against his skin.

Torn, I pull away slightly, his grip remaining for a fraction of a second longer, melting the glacial barriers I attempted to build in preparation for this moment. His hand brushes away another loose strand of my hair, his fingertips trailing against the side of my neck, curling around towards the back of it as a shiver runs up my spine. My breath is pulled from my lungs instantly as my teeth bite down on my lower lip, wide eyes looking up at him searching for answers. One touch was all it took to fully break me, to truly make me his.

His arms are around me once more, pulling my close, protective and possessive. His. His breath is warm against my neck, face buried into my hair. "Three fifty one," he whispers softly, just barely audible as I tremble. I pull away and meet his soft gaze, filled now with only a serious look. His arms fall down my body, sweeping along my ribcage... my side... my hip... It all happens within a second.

His grip tightens against my hips. So many nights I laid in bed dreaming of those strong fingers digging into my skin, littering my body with an aching desire that would become small bruises. Beautiful reminders of our time together against my milky skin long after.

"Three fifty one," he repeats. One hand slides a small piece of plastic, a hotel key card, into the back pocket of my jeans. He pulls me close for another quick embrace that ends too soon, and all I can do is exhale, letting go of the breath I hardly realize I'm holding.

Three fifty one.

My mind races with the possibilities of what the night could contain as I watch him walk out of the cafe. Sinking back into my chair, I can still feel his breath curling against my neck, hot and sweet against my cool skin.

Three fifty one.

I sit there as minutes pass like hours. I don't debate. I don't argue with myself. I already know what I will choose as soon as I can will my body towards the door. I knew it before the evening began. I knew it the moment we made plans for coffee. Eventually I stand, scarf wrapped around my neck and bag hoisted onto my shoulder. My feet fall into anxious, quick steps as I move through the crisp evening air towards the hotel down the street.

Hi DPP! I will be upfront and honest with you. I'm a slow writer. When I'm on the top of my game, I'll get 2-3 responses to you a week depending on my schedule. If you're looking for a quick way to get off, good luck with your search but I'm not the writing partner for you.

I have a profile over here if you want to see what I'm into. I generally write first person present tense ("you" instead of "him") which is different from the way this prompt was written. My responses are a few solid paragraphs (about 350-500 words) once we get setup figured out. If you want to preview my writing style, check out one of my shares in my post history.

So, where do you think this story could take us? Who are you? What's our story? Thank you for taking the time to read this far.