Free Office Hours by Sam Crescent Page A

rest,” he whispered. His lips descended on hers, shocking her with his passion, the hunger behind his kiss. Matching her own hunger, he made love to her with his tongue, tasting her, allowing her to taste him. Love rang between them; the air around them swirled with it.
    They moaned in rapture as they danced the dance of lovers in love. Everything was said through actions, not through words. Their bodies moved with each other in harmony. Hands entwined, hard male breasts against plump feminine breasts, Nathan’s tight stomach against Anya’s slender, rounded tummy. Her legs opened, allowing him access to her secret longing, his maleness connecting them the only way a man and woman can connect. Moving to unheard music as the snow settled outside, they moved together, setting in motion the paths of souls ready to meet.
    Anya and Nathan arched in bliss, completely oblivious to each other’s thoughts, their own personal thoughts dominating their actions. Anyone looking from afar would have seen the love written on each of their faces, the connection mirrored between them both. A picture no artist could paint, no film-maker could film, and no sculptor could cast in bronze—utter beauty. This was as natural as it got, as innocent as it came.
    * * * *
    “Nathan, the snow has died down.” The following morning, after they had dressed, they stood looking out of the window.
    “I think it would be best if I called through to make sure no one is stranded out there looking for us.”
    Slightly disappointed, but understanding clearly why he needed to, she agreed. They were running out of food, and after last night’s activities she was ravenous.
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    “Hello… Yes, we’re okay… Yes… GPS in the phone? Fantastic, see you soon.” Anya listened as he made his goodbyes, seemingly happy to get out of there. With a heavy heart, she began to pack away their belongings.
    “They’re on their way, sending a couple of drivers. Apparently they weren’t expecting this storm for a few more days.”
    Anya nodded, not sure what to say. How could she go back to her ordinary life after being a part of such tranquil bliss?
    “This isn’t over, Anya.” He had read her mind, read the worry, the concern, the fear this all this between them was over.
    “How can it not be?” Her old insecurities came to the surface.
    “Because we can both make sure it’s not.” He sounded so sure of himself, in control, determined.
    She moved from where she was putting their stuff away and surrounded herself in his embrace, trying to feel his love, his strength.
    Over the past hours, as they’d made love and talked, he’d become another part of her—
    a part she didn’t want to let go. She inhaled his scent, committing everything to memory. No one knew what the morning would bring.
    A few hours later, a couple of drivers loaded up the cars, seating them both in the warmth of the back seat.
    “So how far away were we?” Nathan asked out of general curiosity.
    “Er, I’m afraid, sir, you were fifteen miles in the wrong direction—you’re the only couple not to make it back before the storm hit.” Sheepishly, the driver looked out of the window.
    Nathan could feel Anya chuckling by his side.
    “Oh well. We all make mistakes.”
    He folded his arms. He wasn’t disappointed—if he’d not gone in the wrong direction, he wouldn’t have spent an incredible night and morning with the woman of his dreams. No, he wouldn’t be disappointed with his navigating skills.
    He tried to think of anything else but the woman sitting next to him.
    She dominated his senses.
    What would happen come Monday morning?
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    He only knew one thing.
    He couldn’t live without her.
    Anya stood in her room, her body alive, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as Nathan negotiated their return to home, to city life.
    She felt empty. She didn’t want her old life back. She wanted Nathan, wanted to be in his