| ||Happiness is a Butterfly by Marchen|| |
April 10, 2019
When I hear his bedroom door open, I instinctively look up from making breakfast.
Jack’s not wearing a shirt and is starting to look as toned as I remember. There’s a small sprinkling of dark hair on his chest, which trails down his stomach and disappears into his open jeans.
He turns his head, his chiselled features, and dark-brown eyes make my heart race. When he smiles, his face glows and I want to hug him. I don’t want to tell him how I'm feeling because it would only make him feel bad. He has enough to deal with
I sigh and step closer. I can barely breathe. My heart is beating so fast. His warm body heats the space between us and I ache to have the chance to explore the feelings we used to share.
His masculine cologne tickles my nose up close. I want to feel his mouth on mine, to be held in his strong arms, to enjoy passionate intimacy with him. I don’t know what to do. My body screams yes but my mind says to give him the space he needs.
Jack reaches out and his fingers slip around mine in a loose embrace. I gaze into the face of the man I still love with every fibre of my body. Some expression passes over his face and is gone again, but I couldn’t tell what it had been. I put my arms around his waist, and I realise this is the closest we have been to each other since his return.
His mouth hovers over my ear and he whispers, “La mia bella amante.”
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