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Darkness had fallen when she let herself into the cabin, closing the cold snow filled night out with a shove of the slightly warped door. She shivered involuntarily as the warmth from the room started creeping through her chilled clothes. She flicked the light switch, nothing, no light. Hanging up her coat and prizing off her boots she could see the firelight flicker across the ceiling, the flames were crackling and she naturally gravitated towards the hearth with her hands outstretched.
It didn’t take long for the heat to penetrate to her skin and she turned to warm her rear side, eyes closed, enjoying the delicious sensation. So long had she been on the road, driving in the snow, feeling the cold in her bones: so long had she needed to be in this place, this safe quiet place to feel the warmth it provided. Too long. Her soul was tired, weary, she needed his strength, passion and care to replenish her spirit, she needed to be desired, held and nurtured, to give love and to loved, be in her safe place, in his arms.
He’d heard her come in and knew she’d be soaking up the fire, he’d made sure it had been blazing all evening waiting for her to arrive. As he came down the stairs he could see her doing that little dance she did, as she warmed herself before the flames and he smiled, watching her move. Picked out in a sliver of moonlight, her eyes were closed, her lips pursed and turned up at the edges as if to blow a kiss as she swayed her hips in the fire light. Her hands fell to the edges of her sweater and she turned, still swaying as she pulled it over her head, her hair crackling a little with static as it fell back from the fabric. He couldn’t see her face now but he knew the expression that would be on it as she gave a quiet laugh, ripples of amusement and mischief playing in her eyes as she dropped the sweater on the rug. Hands stretching towards the flames again she swayed her tush provocatively.
She knew he was watching.
©️ Juliette Turrell