Heat of the night

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Intoxicating heat was the playmaker of every Summer night. They lay on the couch, those two, with their heads at opposite ends, her legs curving under his arm, touching on his warm skin and her faded suede coverlet. Just outside, the glowing sun was sinking. The new darkness filtered through the quiet apartment like fog over a still lake, encircling their heavy heads. The sun was suddenly gone.


As if obeying a cue, her eyes flickered over his body half concealed in shadow, dancing, calling him. He sensed her glance, her curiosity, her desires. The papers in her lap rustled as he moved over her, slowly. She unbuttoned his shirt in a long, fluid motion, never moving her eyes from his. The night watched. The night moved and then spoke. The night sighed in the heat.


 

Created: Jul 31, 2012

Tags: fiction

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