Good morning Happy Saturday and I hope your weekend is bringing you all kinds of relaxation. Here I have for you a few hundred words, 500 to be exact, of my own bit of relaxation. Hope you enjoy! Click on over to Havan's blog for her take on the same pic!
Meeting Prince Charming
|photo by nickanizer.stock.xchng|
Cold wetness seeped through the denim of my jeans, creating a trail of icy goose bumps all across my body.
"Sorry." A strong, tanned hand dusted with fine dark hairs and blunt cut nails hovered in my field of vision. The tail end of what turned out to be a long, dramatic swirling tattoo just touched his wrist.
I stared, bemused. The hand wavered, then withdrew.
"Are you all right?"
Allowing my gaze to expand beyond the hand, which I suddenly couldn't believe I hadn't accepted, my jaw dropped. The man who'd crashed into me belonged anywhere on campus but barreling through the my office door. He was young, broad, golden in hair, and skin. A whole aura of Prince Charming hung about him, and my fingers suddenly itched to pick up a pencil and transcribe sonnets to his beauty and a character that I just knew was as lovely as his person. "I'm okay." And so I would be, just as soon as my heart stopped racing and my vision returned to normal, because right now it seemed that somehow landing in a mop bucket on my ass had caused me to see blurred golden halos and narrowed my vision to a tiny circumference centered exactly on his concerned face.
He stood watching as I awkwardly fumbled my way out of the water, grimacing as the liquid dripped down my body. I had to give him credit though, true to the noble character my imagination had imbued him with, he didn't laugh at my predicament. I stood before him pretending to a sang froid that I had never felt in my life. Recalling that he had come from my office, I ventured to address the Prince. "Is there something I can assist you with?" I was late, having lost track of time in the upper rooms of the library, pouring over a volume of fifteenth century French poetry. I had interviews scheduled for interns for the fall semester, and I couldn't decide whether to hope he was or wasn't one of the candidates.
"Yeah," he breathed softly. Then before I had a moment to realize what he was about, soft plump lips brushed over mine, and a delicate tongue swiped a tender touch over my lips before he retreated. "I had an interview scheduled, but I think I changed my mind. I don't want the job."
Stunned, I wrestled the demon of desire his kiss had unleashed back under control. He wasn't a prince, but a demon sent straight from hell to tempt me to indiscretion. "You can have the job too." I heard the words, and couldn't believe they'd come from my mouth. No fucking way I wanted this man for my intern. And no way he could miss the implication, I was his for the taking.
Smiling gently, he combed his hand through my hair and cupped my cheek. "Oh hell no. No need to complicate the power dynamic between us."
"Then I have interviews."