Passion's Eternal Blaze

They didn't talk, as the two walked down the hall. Richard was relieved, as it gave him the opportunity to quietly study her. Such an amazing intellect would be a valuable asset in his department. He wished he could change her mind about the position. There was more to it than that, though. He'd get to enjoy her company more often if she accepted.

They walked out of the building and stood near the green. Margaret glanced around, looking for Fred's familiar blue sedan. He was no where to be seen, which was unusual. Usually, he was early. She flipped open her cell phone and dialed.

"Where are you parked?" She asked when he picked up.

"Darn. Is it six, already? I went shopping with Mom, after bingo. Mom's still in the checkout line and I'm and hour and a half away. "

"Okay. I'll go study for awhile, at the library, then get a cab home later, since you'll have to go right to the lanes. "

Fred hung up after saying okay.

"Studying on your birthday?" Richard asked.

Margaret gave a half sarcastic laugh. "Looks like it. I figured I'd make use of the time anyway."

Richard didn't think it was fair that such a nice woman should have to spend her birthday being ignored. An idea came to mind. "Everybody should celebrate their birthday. Why don't you join me for dinner and I'll take you home later?" He asked.

Margaret smiled and agreed thinking it would be more fun than studying algebra.

"My car is this way." Richard led the way to the parking lot.

Margaret wasn't at all surprised when he stopped beside a fancy black Lexus sedan. All of the school's professors were highly paid and their vehicles reflected that. One day, maybe, if she got a decent job, she'd buy a nice car for herself. As it was, they could only afford the twelve year old used sedan Fred drove. Richard opened the trunk and tossed in their books. He came around and opened the car door for her. As she slid onto the leather seat, she tried to remember the last time Fred had opened a car door for her. He hadn't done that since they were first married.

As he drove out of the parking lot, Richard wondered where to go for dinner. He hadn't taken a woman out to dinner, since his wife had passed away, years ago. His wife used to like a fancy Italian place out by the lake. He didn't know if the place was still open, but he figured he'd head out there and see.

"I know a great Italian place." Richard said. "Do you like Italian?"

"Sounds good. I love Italian food." Margaret replied. She was thinking that things were turning out much better than dinner out of the vending machine, in the library.

Richard turned on the radio, clicking through a stations. "What kind of music do you like?"

"I'll listen to anything, but my favorite is country."

"Mine too." Richard switched to a country station. George Strait's voice filled the car. Out of habit, Richard started to sing along, then stopped himself.

"Don't stop on my account." Margaret laughed. "I was going to join you."

"Okay." Richard continued with the song. Margaret joined in. A dozen songs later, Richard pulled into the driveway of the restaurant.

Margaret was impressed by his choice, considering it had a reputation as the fanciest restaurant in the area. She had never been there, but had always wanted to. Her birthday was definitely getting better. She waited while he walked around to open the car door for her. They walked together across the parking lot. It was just getting dark and a bunch of twinkling white lights came on. They adorned every tree, the fence, the gazebo, and the building.

"Oh, how pretty." Margaret commented.

No prettier than you are, Richard thought to himself. The soft light reflected off her hair turning it a soft red gold. The urge to draw her close and kiss her seemed to come out of nowhere. He resisted the urge, barely, by reminding himself that she was married and probably wouldn't welcome that type of attention.

For a second, Margaret thought he was going to kiss her. The thought wasn't as disturbing as it should have been. What was disturbing was that she felt disappointed that he didn't. As they walked into the restaurant, Margaret was trying to sort through her feelings. She didn't notice the sign advertising a karaoke contest and dancing as the entertainment for the evening. Richard pointed to it.

"The way you sing, you'd win."

Margaret laughed. "I don't think so. You would. You sound just like George Strait."

"Want to enter?"

"Only if you do."

Richard asked the hostess for a couple of entry forms and let her know they were there for dinner. They checked their coats and followed the waitress to a table. Richard pulled out her chair for her. The waitress handed them menus and then asked if she could bring them something to drink. Richard asked for a wine list. The waitress handed them wine lists and excused herself.

Margaret looked at the wine list. Half of the names of the wine she couldn't begin to pronounce.

"Pretty extensive list." She commented.

"Yes. It is." Richard agreed. "Do you have a preference?"

"I can't decide. You pick."

Richard glanced over the list, thinking he wanted something special, considering it was her birthday. He wasn't all that familiar with wine, but a vaguely familiar name stuck out in the champagne column. There were several vintages available.

"What year were you born?" He asked.

"1972." She answered, even though it seemed an odd question.

When the waitress returned, he ordered a bottle of the 1972 Dom Perignon . Margaret had been concentrating on the menu and glanced up when he gave the order, not quite hiding the surprise in her expression. Richard caught the look.

"We're celebrating, after all. " He glanced over the appetizer section. "Which appetizer appeals to you?"

" It hard to chose. They all sound good. "

"The stuffed chicken livers are delicious and so is the shrimp thing. "

"I'll try the chicken livers then."

When the waitress returned with the bottle of champagne, they ordered their appetizers and dinner. Richard ordered lasagna and Margaret ordered the same. The waitress poured the champagne and then left to put in their orders.

"Happy birthday. May you have many more." Richard raised his glass.

"Thank you." Their glasses touched and she took a sip. The wine was beyond delicious. She made an involuntary sound close to a contented purr and closed her eyes.

Richard wondered what other pleasures might induce a similar sound. He noticed her breasts rise and fall with her breathing, as they strained against the satin. For a moment, he wondered how they would look released from their satin prison. Her husband must be an idiot to ignore such a woman on her birthday, he thought.

When she opened her eyes, Margaret's gaze locked with his. He must have a girlfriend, she thought. Richard was handsome in a distinguished sort of way. Too handsome for a woman not to have snatched him up. Too handsome to be interested in a woman that looked like she did. Surely, she thought, she must have imagined the earlier look. She excused herself to go to the ladies room.

Once inside it, she leaned against the marble sink. What the Hell was she thinking? She was married, for God's sake. Even if he didn't love her, even if Fred hadn't so much as kissed her in six years, she was still married. Professor Marsh was a just friend who wanted to be nice on her birthday. Going that long without sex was taking its toll, that and turning 40. "Get a grip." She told herself. Taking out her cell phone, she dialed Fred to let him know she might be home later than he thought.

" One of my friend's invited me out to dinner, for my birthday. I might be home late." Margaret told Fred when he picked up.

"Okay. I just bowled a 288. I'm going to have some drinks with the team after anyway. See you later."

"See you." Margaret hung up. He hadn't even bothered to wish her a happy birthday, let alone tell her he loved her.

Margaret touched up her makeup and then returned to their table. Richard stood up when she returned. Old fashioned manners like that she found flattering. The waitress arrived with their appetizers. They ate, sipped the champagne, and made small talk. Margaret couldn't remember when she had enjoyed a meal more.

Richard found himself relaxing and feeling more alive than he had, in years. Margaret was a delightful companion and a joy to be around. They finished the bottle of champagne. The waitress noticed and stopped by to ask if they wanted coffee and dessert. Wanting to prolong the evening, Richard ordered for both of them.

"Would you like it served in the lounge? Karaoke is going to start soon." Their waitress asked.

"That would be wonderful." Richard said.

"Shall we venture in there?" Margaret asked after the waitress left.

The champagne had relaxed her and she was enjoying the company and atmosphere. She stood up as he did and slid her arm through his. They made their way into the lounge and settled into a comfortable corner . The booth was more of a curved soft leather couch with a small table in front of it. Margaret slid gracefully onto the couch and Richard slid in next to her. The lounge was dimly lit. There were candles on all of the tables and soft lights on the walls. A dance floor occupied the center of the floor in front of a small stage. A bar graced a side wall. Two karaoke song books and more entry forms were on the table. They each took a book and looked through the available songs.

"What do you feel like singing?" Richard asked as he looked through the choices.

"I don't know."

"We don't have long to decide." He commented. There wasn't any George Strait songs in the book. There was mostly contemporary music in the book. He had heard a lot of the newer stuff. One song stood out...a song about a man who couldn't wait to get his woman home and see her black dress hit the floor. The song made him think about how he'd like to see that red blouse of hers hit the floor. Richard wrote down the song on his form.

Margaret settled on a classic the Pointer Sister's Fever. It was one of her favorites and somehow appropriate, given where her thoughts were straying. Margaret wrote it down on her form. It wasn't long before the DJ came around to collect the entries for the contest. The DJ said he was going to play a few songs for dancing before starting the contest, in an hour.

The waitress brought coffee and dessert. The two chatted and sipped their coffee , while waiting for the music to start. They didn't have long to wait. The first song was a Bon Jovi tune. The volume and bass were turned up so high, they could not hear each other over it. To avoid shouting, they moved closer to each other.

The third song was a slow one. Richard asked Margaret to dance. She hadn't slow danced, in years. She was tempted to say no, but something inside her was thrilled that he'd asked. He slide out of the booth and extended his hand. A dance or two wouldn't hurt, she thought, getting to her feet.

Margaret looked into Richard's eyes, as she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder. He had the most intriguing hazel eyes, she thought. His smile was warm and made his face look even more attractive. Somehow the rest of the dancers seemed to disappear. Margaret felt her attraction to him build. This was dangerous, she thought. Very dangerous. She'd wanted Fred when they were first together, but she'd never felt like this. Margaret's senses seemed heightened. She could feel solid muscle beneath his suit jacket, under her fingertips. The faint scent of his cologne, a blend of musk, leather, and something she couldn't name lingered on the air. A little voice in her head started telling her to beware, but she dismissed it. She wanted this dance. For all she knew, it might be the last time a man would hold her in his arms because he wanted to. God knew it had been years since Fred had held her. She decided to enjoy the dance and, maybe, even flirt a little. It couldn't hurt and she'd have a wonderful, pleasant memory, something to draw on when she indulged in the occasional guilty pleasure of masterbation, the only sexual gratification she'd had, for the past six years.

Richard couldn't believe how nice she felt in his arms. Without thinking, he drew her closer. She settled against him like she belonged there. The softness of her breasts pressed against his chest was arousing.

He hadn't felt like this, in a long time. Acting on instinct, again without thinking, he ran his hand down her back, in a caress, and back up. Richard felt her sudden intake of breath and the slight shudder that went through her. Even his wife had never reacted like to a simple caress. Margaret's reaction made him feel ten feet tall. He repeated the caress, shifting her even closer. It seemed the most natural thing in the world, to lift her arms around his neck. Her breasts pressed hard into his chest. She felt her nipples harden in response and wondered if he could feel them through her bra and blouse. Margaret was going to pull away, but she didn't have the strength. She had wanted to be wanted and desired for so long , she was starved for affection. She knew she should step away and end the dance, but she couldn't. Her emotions were overpowering her judgement.

His hand moved lower, to the small of her back, pressing her closer still. Close enough that she rested her head on his shoulder. The song ended but he was reluctant to let her go. Another slow song began. The skin of her neck looked so soft and inviting that he wanted to rain kisses down it. He tried to mentally talk himself out of it, but it was a losing battle. Richard pressed a tender kiss against her neck. Then, a few more. He pressed his lips against her ear and nibbled lightly on her earlobe.

"You, my sweet Angel, are definitely not a failure as a woman." He whispered.

He heard her gasp, then, as another shudder went through her. He ran his lips lightly across her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Margaret felt her knees go suddenly weak. If he hadn't been holding her so close, she would have fallen. She fought for a little self control. She could hardly believe those were her own fingers that ran up his neck, to the back of his head, pressing him closer , so her lips met his. Their lips met in a long, deep kiss.

The song ended and people started applauding. That brought her a little closer to reality. Close enough to step away and thank him for the dance, as if they hadn't been nearly making love on the dance floor. They walked back to their booth and he slid in, next to her, drawing her close to his side. He opened the sliding glass doors, leading out to the deck. A cold breeze blew in. Richard removed his suit coat and draped it around her shoulders. The waitress came by and refilled their coffee.

The DJ announced the start of the karaoke contest and called Richard up first. Saying, "I'll be back." He dropped a quick kiss on Margaret's cheek, and went up on the stage.

Margaret expected him to sing one of the songs they had sang, in the car. She was surprised when the first notes of the intro sounded. She recognized the song instantly. It was one that she had played so much , she had worn out three compact discs. Richard apparently knew the song well, too. Instead of reading the words on the screen, he took the mic and stepped off the stage, walking back towards her, as he sang. He changed a few words, as he went along. When the black dress in the song became a red blouse, she almost fainted. Margaret's head was starting to get a little fuzzy from all the champagne and emotions running through her. She knew she shouldn't allow herself to feel this way, but feeling wanted and desired was like a powerful drug in her veins.

When the song ended, the crowd applauded loudly. Richard made his way back to their table, stopping once in awhile to acknowledge a good job or high five from the crowd.

"You were fantastic." Margaret slid over so he could sit down.

"I had plenty of inspiration."

The next contestant started to sing an off key rendition of a Christmas carol. The crowd started to boo. The guy left the stage before he got to the second verse. A third competitor was introduced. A young blonde woman began to sing a popular hip hop tune. The DJ turned the bass up so that conversation was impossible. Margaret's turn to sing was next. Normally, Margaret would have been more than a little self conscious about following the supermodel lookalike. However, she had consumed enough alcohol that it didn't matter. She decided that she would sing the song for Richard.

Margaret looked for him, across the room. She found his gaze fixed on her. When the music started, she began to sing . Richard knew she had a wonderful voice, from their impromptu singing, in the car, but paired with the DJ's efforts on his mixing board, she sounded better than good. All she needed was a fancy sequined gown and a piano to drape herself across, and she could pass for one of the sexy stars in old black and white movies, he thought. For the hundredth time, he thought it was a damn shame she was married. Then, there was the fact she was his student. Yes, relationships between students and professors weren't unheard of, but the faculty frowned on them. He wouldn't lose his job over it, but things would be testy, for awhile. As he listened to her sing, he decided she would be worth putting up with the fallout, at the college. Her marriage certainly wasn't a good one. Maybe, just maybe, he might have a chance at building something with her. He would give it his best shot and see what happened, he thought.

Chapter 3

When Margaret finished the song, the crowd applauded as loudly as they had for Richard. She returned to their table and sat down.

"Sure you don't want to go for a recording career, instead?" Richard teased.

Margaret laughed. "No way. "

The DJ announced a break to return to dance music, for awhile. The song was a slow, romantic , love song.

"Let's dance, beautiful."

She would have declined, but the way he called her beautiful sent her senses reeling, again. Fred hadn't called her beautiful, since before they were married. She'd often wondered if any man would ever call her that, again. Smiling, Margaret joined Richard on the dance floor, almost drifting into his arms. He gently pulled her closer, his hand running over her back. She could feel the strength of it through the thin satin of her blouse. Fred never danced with her like this – like he couldn't get close enough to her, she thought. In fact, in all the years they had been married, Fred had never given her a French kiss her like Richard had, earlier.

Richard's hand moved down to her hip, pressing her closer still. His hand made a slow, erotic, caressing journey from her hip, up her side, to the side of her breast. Richard lowered his head to kiss her neck again. He could smell the light scent of roses and jasmine that clung to her like a second skin. As he kissed her, she made that small sound like a purr, again. Margaret shifted her body, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Her hand went to the back of his head, half caressing, half holding him closer. At that moment, he knew he loved her. As shocking as the thought was, he realized the love he had for her was deeper and stronger than he'd ever felt for Vicki .

He almost whispered "I love you", in her ear, but caught himself. Too much too soon, Richard thought. He didn't want to scare her.

The song ended. "Let's get out of here." He suggested.

"What about the contest?" She asked.

"Who cares?"

She smiled then, and he led her back to the table. He motioned for the waitress asking for the check. The waitress returned shortly. Richard paid the bill and they went to collect their coats. He wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, as they walked to the car. Margaret smiled as he opened the car door for her. Before she got in, it seemed only natural to reach up and press a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. "It's still early. How about a movie?"