Shoe Strings

damp with rain
and dew, encircled by the scent of wildflowers.   The air lifted their smell, sweet and
spicy like the woods they called home.   He savored it and thought of his mother.   He felt so happy, so free, he knew she
had to be there, at the edge the forest planting flowers or pruning
shrubs.   He rushed to find her and
woke with a start.  
    He lay in a forest, all right.   A forest of hair, dark and rich and
curling over the very tempting shoulder of the woman he’d spent half the night
loving.   How had he dreamt of his
mother after all the things he’d done to Angelita, all the ways she’d touched
him?   It wasn’t something he wanted
to explore, but the naked body nestled beside him certainly was.  
    He studied her as the first hint of dawn crept sidelong
through the bedroom window.   She
looked so peaceful, almost angelic, with her skin the color of a latte, her big
brown eyes shielded from view by her lids and a lock of hair over her
face.   He’d never seen anyone more
beautiful or more filled with contradictions.   She’d nervously tackled the river, shyly
discussed their mutual attraction, and voraciously gave herself to him
throughout the night.   The tiger now
slept like a kitten.  
    What in the hell was he going to do with her?
    He wanted to ease her out of sleep and ease himself back
inside of her.   His physical need
didn’t worry him, but the need he felt to hold her while she slept, to hold her
when she woke, to hold her and never let her go…scared him to death.   He could tell by her breathing she’d be
asleep for awhile.   He needed time
to get his thoughts in order.   He
found his shorts in the den and moved into the kitchen to make coffee and try
to get a grip on his emotions.
    ***
    Lita woke to the smell of coffee and the feel of soft cotton
sheets against her bare skin.   She
stretched her arms out and felt the cold sheet beside her.   She opened her eyes and sat up.   Where was she?   Reality came crashing back like a movie
clip.   She and Jesse had made love,
repeatedly, throughout the night.   At some point, he’d carried her to bed and had loved her again.   But where had he gone and why did his
not being beside her fill her with panic?
    She buried her face in the pillow that still held the
indentation from his head and breathed in his scent.   Her insides twisted with longing and she
could have slapped herself.   How
could she have these feelings after only one night?   It’d been one hell of a night, and one
they both knew they’d been heading for, but how did it lead to this…desperation
for him?   And what the hell was she
going to do about it?  
    She sat up and looked around the room.   Her clothes were in the den where he’d
peeled them off the night before and there wasn’t a swatch of anything to drape
herself in.   With a huff, she stood
up and tried to pull the sheet from the bed like people in movies do.   Somehow, it wasn’t as graceful or as
easy as they made it look.   After
tugging the sheet off, she wrapped it around herself and walked carefully to
the door.  
    Jesse stood at the sink, shirtless with a mug of coffee in
his hand, peering out the window.   When the door clicked closed behind her, he turned.   If she’d longed for him when she’d woken
up, nothing could prepare her for the stab of need that shot through her with
just one look.   His hair was
rumpled, the button to his shorts undone, and his expression unreadable.
    “Sleep well?” he asked as his eyes lazily roamed over her
body.  
    “Very.”   She
reached up to swat the hair out of her face and the sheet slipped.   His lips twitched as she struggled to
keep herself covered.   “It’s been a
long time since I’ve slept in bed with a man.”
    Jesse raised his brows.   “Coffee?”
    “Please.”   Could
he actually be so kind as to let that ridiculously revealing comment go?   She took the steaming cup he offered,
mixed with sugar and milk just the way she liked it, and let the heat of the
mug mix with the heat of her embarrassment.   “I shouldn’t be allowed to speak until
I’ve had at least one cup.”
    “How long?” he asked.
    “How long what?”
    “How long has it been since you’ve slept in bed with a man?”
    Lita took another sip and considered his arrogant look over
the lip of the mug.   “Maybe neither
one of us should speak before we’ve had a cup.”
    Jesse set his own mug down and moved to stand in front