No One But You

“I think I am.”

He took in a deep breath, the tip of his nose brushing mine, “No thinking, baby, just knowing.”

For a small fraction of a second my chest stung with rejection.

“Let me know when you know you’re ready. We’re working to it, not rushing.” He touched his lips to mine lightly and took another deep breath like he was breathing me in. “There’s no rush, sweetheart.”

Just like that, that niggle was gone.

His hold was strong and unwavering, and although the kiss that followed may have been too intimate for a dancefloor, it was so tame for everything between he and I. Between us.

The tips of his fingers dug into my skin. The roll of his tongue with mine completely and utterly in sync with our ragged breaths. Even though it was the most perfect kiss, it was messy and wet and a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. Hot and soft. Demanding and achy. It was everything that we were and had always been.

It was endless.

Even when we had to come up for air our lips never parted.

I hadn’t registered the song change. I hadn’t noticed the slightly emptier dancefloor. I’d just followed Jamie’s every step.

“Why’re you smiling like that?” He asked as his hands cupped my face.

“I don’t know.” I didn’t actually know I was smiling until he pointed it out.

His thumbs rubbed across my lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He brushed my hair away from my face as he tilted it all the way up so that he was looking straight down on me.

“So you keep telling me.” I gave him the same response I always did.

“I won’t ever stop, sweetheart.” He smiled wide. “Even when you’re wrinkly.”

“I’m hoping I can get away with just some fine lines.”

He ran his index finger down the centre of my face and down my neck until he reached the crew neck of my dress. His eyes wandered over every inch of my face.

“If it comes to it, you have Jake on speed dial anyway.” I giggled as his thumb grazed over my bottom lip.

“He’s not going anywhere near you.” He shook his head softly as his stare focused on my lips. “Not a fucking chance.”

He gave me a quick peck on the lips followed by another on the tip of my nose and another on my forehead.

“Drink?” His arms wrapped around me squeezing mine to my body as my hands held on to his hips.

I nodded as he swayed us from side to side in exaggerated steps.

“Come on then, beautiful,” he winked as he draped his arm over my shoulder and walked us back to our table.

The waiting staff were doing the rounds as they replaced the old champagne bottles on the tables with freshly opened ones ready for the New Year toast. A lot of the guests were already seated at their tables and waiting to welcome another year. You could feel the hissing, popping and crackling of the air all around us as old men made new deals and older women enjoyed younger men—probably because their husbands were otherwise engaged. There were young men and women ceremoniously chasing after one another for that all-important midnight kiss, and in the midst of it all Willow was sat by herself nursing a half full tumbler of her favourite Venezuelan rum. Her metallic manicured fingers tracing the condensation tracks on the heavy looking glass. The dark Diplomatico bottle sat in front of her.

She looked lonely and dejected. Her too big for life character nowhere to be found. She gave us both a forced smile before downing half of the contents she cradled in her hands.

“Hey chick!”

I pulled the chair next to hers and sat down facing her. It was only then that I realised my feet were beginning to feel a little sore and uncomfortable. The gold straps of my Jimmi Choos cutting into me.

“Why aren’t you dancing or doing your usual schmoozing?” Jamie asked as he placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on mine.

“I’m not feeling it today.” She shrugged, “It’s been a long day.”