Hold My Hand by @PalomaBeck #NaNoWriMo
Hold My Hand
Written by Paloma BeckFollow @PalomaBeck
http://palomabeck.weebly.com/hold-my-hand.html
NaNo Excerpt
“That sounds nice.” I am nearly certain that is what I say though with my head spinning, I can’t be positive. The heady scent of William surrounds me as I sit in his car so close to this man I hardly know. It is warm and delicious, the scent so completely male, a dense musk causing a haze to fill every fiber of air I breathe. I allow silent minutes to tick by, wishing he would say something and, at the same time, scared of what he might say.
When I look at him, he is smiling at me; one side of his mouth quirked up and his eye brows drawn down over his eyes as if he is puzzling me out. I feel the same way, William. Who are you? And what do you want with me?
The restaurant is not far. As we get out, William tells Baylor – that’s his driver’s name – not to wait for us, he will see him in the morning. Baylor smiles at me, nods his head and returns to the car. I imagine life with a driver. I imagine what William’s life must be like. It must be so different from mine and I cannot grasp why he’s asked me to dinner.
We are seated immediately; buzzed right through a line of people waiting. Our table is small, in a corner and I notice right away how private the space is. No one passes us but a single waiter who comes to turn down the linen and flip our glasses. There is too much silence but I have no fitting words.
“I am pleased you agreed to dinner,” he says.
“I don’t understand why.” The words escape my lips and there is no way for me to harness them before William lets out a hearty laugh. He is amused by me, by my insecurity.
“Aubrey, you underestimate yourself. And I plan to teach you otherwise.”
“You plan to teach me?” I am thrown by his assertion. I can only look towards him though I still have trouble making eye contact.
“My sweet Aubrey,” his hand cupping my jaw, his thumb stroking my cheek and his mouth so close that I more feel the words than hear them, “I have watched your loveliness for a very long time now. And in this time, I have come to discover just as I first suspected. We are perfect for one another.”
I gasp. He smiles. And then he chuckles before placing a warm kiss on the most tender spot beneath my ear where his words had been only moments before. Suddenly there is nothing but us, nothing but a warmth in my stomach I don’t understand. I shiver and chuckling, he moves back as the waiter arrives with wine.
I observe him, again from under lowered lashes as the waiter pours some into William’s glass and waits for him to taste it. When William nods, the waiter fills his glass and then begins to fill mine.
“No thank you. I don’t drink.” I am speaking – I’m sure of it because I can hear the words but the waiter looks only to William who shakes his head. The waiter fills my glass and leaves. The bottle is on the table. It gives me something to look at as hummingbirds take flight in my stomach.
“You will enjoy this. I assure you.” William sips from his glass but I still don’t pick mine up. He watches me, evaluating me, assessing me. I am a bug under a microscope and I begin to squirm.
“Do not fidget. It’s unbecoming.” William states a fact and I obey. My squirming ceases. He smiles then. I have earned his smile. Relieved, I return the smile with one of my own.
William reaches across to my wine glass and brings it towards me. “Taste and see,” he says softly again close to my ear. I find I cannot resist following his instructions and I open my mouth as the smooth glass is placed on my bottom lip. The warm liquid splashes onto my tongue. I roll it around my mouth as I saw William do before I swallow. And then I groan, literally groan as the wine coats my throat. I have discovered nectar, overwhelmed as I am by the new sensation of this drink and the multitude of tastes that bloom on my tongue. The warmth radiating down my throat to my belly is soothing.
“You like it.” I like his smile more. I like his words against my skin more still.
“Yes.” I reach for the wine glass but he holds it to my lips again. He uses one hand to move my hands to my lap and hold them there. His eyes never leaving mine as he serves me sip after sip until my glass is empty.
“Your cheeks are flushed. It’s beautiful; absolutely beautiful, sweet Aubrey.”
I say nothing. I don’t know what I am to say. I just sit, blushing, with my hands in my lap where he placed them. “This is where you say thank you sir.” He guides me even in our conversation. He is teaching me as an instructor teaches a student.
“Thank you, sir,” I repeat after him and earn myself another smile. I realize then I would do anything for that smile.
Author Bio
http://www.nanowrimo.org/en/participants/palomabeck
