Kate Hoffmann - The Drifter

“It’s not supposed to be easy,” she said, turning to face him. Her fingertips smoothed over his lips and she leaned forward to kiss him. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

Charlie slipped his fingers through the hair at her nape and pulled her toward him for a long, deep kiss. He searched for her taste, that wonderful sweetness that had become as addictive as a drug to him. And when he found it, Charlie felt himself relax, as if his last care in the world had suddenly dissolved.

Eve’s hands moved to the buttons of his shirt and it took her only a few seconds before she was pushing it off his shoulders and smoothing her palms over his torso. If her taste wasn’t enough to fire his passion, then her touch was. She knew his body so well, all the most sensitive spots, the places she’d claimed as her own.

Charlie didn’t know how they’d managed to shed their clothes. He was only aware of her naked flesh beneath his hands. Before he knew it, they were both undressed and lying on the rug in the middle of the room.

Her fingers encircled his cock, stroking slowly, teasing him to full arousal. He kept his mind occupied with a slow trail of kisses from the base of her throat to her breasts and then back again. His release was already so close…The need to let go was building up inside him.

When she sat up and straddled his hips, he thought that she was ready to join him. But slowly, she drifted lower, her lips pressed against his chest and then his belly and then beyond.

A raw moan tore from his throat as she took him in her mouth. He used to look on this act as just a means to an end, the perfect orgasm. But with Eve, Charlie felt as if she were testing his need, forcing him to be vulnerable to the feel of her lips and tongue on his shaft.

He could surrender to her, completely and with out hesitation. Though they’d only been together ten days and nights, it felt like longer, as if the trust they shared had grown over time. Charlie felt his breath quicken in response to her pace and he fought back the need to surrender. Still, Eve grew more deter mined, each stroke, each caress bringing him closer to the edge.

There would come a time, when he was alone in his tent on the side of some distant mountain, when he’d remember every detail of this. When the mere recollection would send him over the edge. For now, he had real pleasure, not imagined.

“I’m so close,” he murmured.

“What do you want?” Eve asked, looking up at him with a lazy smile. “Do you want me to stop?”

Charlie nodded. But when a frown wrinkled her brow he chuckled softly. “I want you to stop that and start something else.” Gently, he grabbed her arms and drew her alongside him. And then, holding on to her waist, he rolled on top of her and buried himself to the hilt.

It happened so quickly, the shift of power, his cock sliding inside her, that she gasped. Slowly, he began to move, her warmth enveloping him until he lost the ability to think. Instinct took over and they grasped at each other, as if they were both unable to get close enough.

And then, she was there, at the edge one moment and dissolving into spasms the next. Charlie arched against her and let himself go, each thrust taking him to a more perfect place.

When they’d both regained their breath, Charlie stretched out beside her, throwing his leg over her thighs and his arm around her waist. It had all happened so quickly. He was used to taking more time with her.

He waited for the contentment to set in, waited for that long, slow descent into complete relaxation. But it didn’t come. Just like on Everest, he felt incomplete. There were words on the tip of his tongue, words that needed to be said, but Charlie was afraid that telling her how he really felt might drive her away for good.

He sat up and ran his hands through his hair. Her hand smoothed down his back. “That was nice,” she murmured.

Glancing back at her, he forced a smile. I love you. Why was that so difficult to say? Was it because he wasn’t sure of the truth of his words? These feelings roiling around inside of him were strange and unfamiliar. If it wasn’t love, then it was probably insanity.

“Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s go to bed. The sooner this day ends, the better.” He took her hand and helped her to her feet, then followed her into his bedroom, his hands resting on her shoulders.

When they curled up beneath the covers, Eve fell asleep almost immediately. But Charlie was too restless to sleep. His mind was spinning, searching for a tiny bit of clarity.

He’d always prided himself on his ability to master any situation. There was that time he’d fallen into a crevice while climbing Mt. Rainier. And the avalanche he’d ridden down the side of a mountain in Utah while skiing. And the broken wrist he’d suffered three days into a wilderness hike in Arizona. He’d known exactly how to survive.

But this was different. Nothing in his life had prepared him for the onslaught of emotion, the highs and lows that seemed to toss him about like a rogue wave. His father had died before Charlie had really even recognized his parents’ relationship. He should have learned about love from watching them.

Instead, he saw how his mother struggled, raising a family alone. She hadn’t dated, hadn’t even socialized with men after her husband’s death. Charlie had once asked her why she hadn’t tried to find someone else. She’d given him an odd look and said, “There was only one man for me,” she’d said. “And for as long as I live, I will love him.”

At the time, Charlie had idealized his mother’s loyalty, made it into something much more than it was. But as he grew older, he saw how truly lonely she was. How much she missed the man she’d married. He could only imagine what they’d shared, only guess at the relationship they’d built together.

As an adult, Charlie never let himself feel that kind of loneliness. Instead, he consoled himself with an endless string of beautiful women, all of them willing to tell him what an incredible lover he was, what a great time they’d had.

Charlie rolled onto his side and stared at Evie’s face. Her palms were pressed together and resting between the pillow and her cheek. This was the way she slept, all tidy and perfect. All the little things that he’d come to know about her-the expert technique she employed to peel an apple, the funny wrinkle in her nose when she brushed her teeth, the careful way she folded her bath towel.

Would these be the things he missed if he left? Charlie pushed up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. He wouldn’t know unless he actually got away, took some time to put all of this in perspective.

“Oh, God,” he murmured, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. Making decisions used to be so much easier when he was on his own. Now, every decision seemed to be more crucial, filled with hidden twists and traps. Charlie grabbed a pair of jeans from a nearby chair and pulled them on, then tugged a T-shirt over his head.

He found his shoes under the sofa and his car keys on the dining room table. Charlie grabbed a pen and scribbled a note to Eve, then took it back into the bedroom, laying it on his pillow.

He wasn’t sure how much time he needed. Maybe a day. Maybe two. He had another presentation at the university on Tuesday. By then, he ought to know how he really felt. He’d either hop a plane for the job on Everest or ask Eve to move in with him permanently.

Charlie grabbed his jacket on the way back through the living room, then slipped out the front door into the predawn darkness. He had his cell phone. He’d text her later today and try to explain. Until then, he’d just see where the road took him.

EVE OPENED HER EYES, squinting to see the clock on the bedside table. Charlie’s half of the bed was empty as usual. He was an early riser, even though he stayed up until she returned from the restaurant. He seemed to need so much less sleep than she did.