Taken By Her Midnight Lover

The decision of our future is yours to make, and I will accept whatever you chose. When you leave today, I want you to wear the peacock blue scarf hanging in your closet. I will see you today, and if I see the scarf I will come to you. If you choose not to wear it, if you choose to put the night we shared into the back of your mind, I will never bother you again. I pray that is not the choice you will make, but I will accept it none the less.

If this is the last day I will look on your beautiful smile - a smile I have been privileged to see more and more of in the last few days - I will cherish the memory of our night forever. And I will hope that, in the future, you will find another who can make your heart sing, as mine does when I think of you.

Forever yours,

...

Alexandra read the letter three times, pouring over every word carefully and reverently. She thought about the scarf, the one so beautiful she had been drawn to buy it, but with colors so bold she never dared to wear it. She also thought about what he had said about the police. She knew that she should call them, that she should have reported the events of that night the next morning. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She knew some would call what he'd done rape. But she knew what rape really was. She knew it was the attempt to control and dominate another. She recalled vividly the night she'd almost suffered that fate, at the hands of a man who followed her from a bar, insisting she had been coming on to him. That night, more than any other in her life, had led her to become the closed and cold person she had been...until he had touched her. What that man had tried to do in the parking lot, before a lucky kick to the groin allowed her to escape, was to take his own pleasure in her body, with no regard for her own needs or feelings.

Her lover had tried to do no such thing. He had held his own needs and desires in check, treating her body like a delicate and precious thing. He had hung on her every gasp, groaned to hear her every sound of pleasure. And even with all the joy he had given her, he had refused to take his own until she'd consented. How could the care he had shown her be wrong? How could she punish him for loving her?

She read again the apology in the second paragraph, and tried not to laugh at the sweet words there. How could he believe he had harmed her? How could he not have felt the reaction her body had to his loss of control. She had reveled in it, the fleeting pain overwhelmed by the unending waves of ecstasy. He thought he needed to make amends for the most intense pleasure she had ever experienced. She would have to make sure he knew that there was no apology to be made. She would have to make sure he knew what joy and bliss he had given her.

She hurried to the shower, having spent too much time reading and thinking on the letter. She rushed through her hair and make-up, only to find, when she saw the final result, that she'd never looked better. She looked like she had that morning, her hair full and loose about her head, the glow on her cheeks and the soft blush on her lips, as if they'd spent many hours caressing her lover's. She dressed with care, putting on a blue flowing skirt that stopped just above her knee and a white silk tank. Then she pulled out the scarf, from its hanger on the end of the bar. She debated how to wear it, and finally she knew. As she left her house, a spring in her step, she swung her arms. The scarf flew in the winds as she did this, safely tied in a loop around her wrist.

The café was pretty busy when she walked in, but he'd been watching for a while, knowing that she usually came in around 7:30. She was running a little late. He wasn't sure if that was good or bad, until he saw the scarf tied around her wrist. His heart exploded in joy. He tried to keep his feelings under wraps, but when he saw her radiant smile as she thanked the cashier, he was lost. She was here, she was wearing the scarf, and in such a way that he knew she was telling him everything he needed to know. She wanted him. Despite the mistakes he'd made, despite the mess he'd made of their night together, she still wanted him. He'd planned to be waiting outside her office building, holding another orchid, when she left work. He'd planned to let the anticipation build for both of them a little. As she walked out of the café he realized he couldn't wait.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" his boss yelled at him as he took off his apron, preparing to run after her.

"I have to go; I'm feeling just lousy man. Sorry." He knew it was a lame excuse, but if he didn't go to her now, it would be very true.

"Bullshit, we're busy as hell. You walk out of here and don't come back!" He kept his voice down so the customer's wouldn't hear him.

He smiled at his boss, grabbed his duffel from behind the counter and said, "Then I won't be back. Sorry man, but I have to go."

He could feel his boss' eyes burrowing into the back of his head as he ran out the door, but he was still smiling. It didn't matter anymore. The only reason he hadn't quit had been her. Seeing her every day, nothing else had been important. But now he didn't need to be here to see her. He was going to see her beautiful face every day, and for the rest of his life if he had anything to say about it.

He ran in the direction of her office. He couldn't see her, and he couldn't move fast enough in the crowd of people on the way to their own jobs. He had gone a few blocks when he caught a flash of blue. He tried to move faster, eliciting nasty looks from some people as he shoved his way to her. He thought he saw her hair and decided this wasn't working. He found the first street lamp he could and jumped up. He could see her clearly now, and she was barely a block away. She was moving too fast though, and he was afraid he'd lose her. He didn't want to have this encounter in her office building...he had to stop her.

"Alexandra!" He yelled out, getting more dirty looks and more than a few smiles from the crowd of teenage girls who were passing by. She kept walking. "Alexandra!" he practically screamed, and he saw her stop. As she started to turn he jumped down and broke into a run. He didn't see her scan the crowd, a look of hope on her face, before she turned to keep walking. He had bought the time he needed though. He came up to her just as she had started walking again. He didn't stop to think; he just grabbed her arm and pulled her to a doorway so they would be out of the foot traffic.

She gasped as he grabbed her, but she didn't pull away. When he stopped she practically fell into him. She put her hands to his chest to stop herself, and her face was down. His hands were on her arms and he could smell her hair. She kept her face down, even though she should've looked up by now, if for no other reason than to ask him what he thought it was doing. It took him a second to realize she was shaking. He waited patiently, but he did kiss the top of her head. He felt a shiver run through her body, and he heard her sigh, but she still didn't look up. Just as he was about to say something he heard her whisper, "Please be him." He smiled, and he felt like his heart was going to burst.

As he leaned in close, he let his hand trace her wrist, where the scarf was tied to it. Then he whispered in her hear, "My sweet." She gasped and then let out a hard sigh. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes, and the most incredible smile lit up her entire face. He returned the smile, tears in his own eyes. She reached up and cupped his cheek. He lay his hand over hers, holding it in place, and just watched the emotions dance across her eyes. After just a moment, she pulled her hand away, threw her arms around him and kissed him. He had never felt more alive than he did at this moment. He pulled her tight and returned the kiss with such fervor that he was almost crushing her lips. She didn't seem to notice at all. She just kept kissing him. They were oblivious to the looks of passersby, some disapproving, but mostly they were wistful or jealous.

When he realized that if they didn't stop they might end up getting arrested for public indecency, he pulled away, resting his forehead on hers. They were both breathing heavily, and her eyes were closed. He tilted her face up to his, and as she opened her eyes he knew what love looked like. The light that shone in her eyes was beyond captivating. He kissed her again, but softer, more tenderly. "I was going to wait until later, but when I saw you, and I saw this..." he fingered the scarf again.

She laughed and kissed him again, "If you'd waited I might never have forgiven you. When I saw your face in the café, I was almost sure, but how do you ask someone..." He laughed too and kissed her. They were in danger of losing control again when they heard her cell phone ring. She pulled away and reached for it. He put his hand over hers, stopping her just before she flipped it open, "You can't be serious."

She smiled, gave him a soft kiss on the hand and said, "Trust me." He let go of the phone and she answered it.

He could hear a man on the other end, sounding irate, but he couldn't tell what was being said. She made a gesture with her hands, indicating the man wouldn't shut up, and they both laughed. This seemed to get the attention of the man on the phone, because he stopped ranting and called out her name. "I'm taking a personal day Frank. I don't want to hear it. There is nothing pressing going on this week, and I haven't taken a day off in almost a year. In fact, I won't be in tomorrow either. I'll see you on Monday." She hung up the phone, cutting the man's reply off.

She beamed at him, and he kissed her again, because he couldn't do anything else. When he finally pulled away they were both out of breath again. "Sounds like you might get fired."

"Not a chance, the CEO loves me, and I really haven't had a day off in forever. Though that would make us quite a pair, since the fact that you're standing here probably means you just lost your job."

She slipped her arms around him, pulling herself tight to his body, and laid her cheek on his chest. He sighed and put his chin on top of her head. "Something like that."

She looked up at him again, "Do you want to go to your place and get some things?"

He smiled at her, "Like what?"

She traced the cleft in his chin with her fingertip, until he tilted his head and kissed it. "I don't know, overnight bag, clothes?"

He gave her a lingering kiss, "Do you think I need clothes?"

She laughed and he felt tears welling again, "Nah." She slipped one arm around his waist, turned in the direction he'd come from, and they started walking.

He never got his job back, or got another one, and she didn't care. She made more than enough to support them. It had never occurred to him, that he could be a house-husband, but it made him happy beyond his dreams. Alexandra also stopped working so hard and made sure she was home more, especially after they had their first baby, just short of a year later. He loved being a stay at home dad.

Their lives aren't perfect; they have their fights and their problems, like everyone else. But just when things are getting really tense, and they feel like they're going to fall apart, Alex will wake up, in the middle of the night, inexplicably unable to move her arms...