April 10, 2014
New York City
She waited.
Sensing it was hard for her, he thought how it must challenge her spirit to compel herself to just stand there. He saw her lift her head a bit, seeking his eyes, trying to send him the message.
The night grew still and the moment of truth confronted him. Stepping closer to her, Stephen Grant hesitated again. Still afraid that she would reject him, even though all the signals had been sent, all the subtle encouragement given. With all the wonderful time they had spent together over the last few months, it remained difficult for him.
He gazed into her soft, sensual eyes that sent the message. He understood her message. At least, he hoped he did. And he realized he had to make the move. She couldn’t do it.
Images from the fantastic evening they had just shared flashed through his mind, filling him with warm, pleasant sensations. He pictured the two of them laughing and smiling at each other during the musical comedy at that cozy little theater off Broadway. He recalled how pretty she looked in the candlelight at dinner as he peered over the edge of his wine glass at her, and that look of tenderness. And yes, it was there. Love! In her eyes! Then, once more, he felt her in his arms as they danced, moving with the rhythm, her alluring body pressed against his.
This presented a dilemma for Stephen. This woman was truly enticing. She sparked intense feelings of desire within him. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her all night. In fact, he had wanted that for several dates now. He even fantasized about them making love. But whenever he was with her and these feelings were at their strongest, another woman interfered.
Every time he felt like taking this new woman in his arms, the face of Samantha Sorkin would appear. Whenever he wanted to kiss her, Samantha would move in between them. Samantha would be there with that mischievous sparkle in her eyes, her teasing smile taunting him. Though never present physically, she became a barrier keeping him from his longings.
Feeling the urgency of making a commitment to this woman was tearing him apart. He couldn’t continue like this, for his own sake as well as hers. She had been patient, but he knew she wouldn’t wait forever. She was charming, educated, intelligent, and beautiful. All of which made her exquisitely hot and foxy.
He was sure other men would find her desirable and try to capture her heart. "But," he thought, "she’s with me. We’ve spent considerable time together ─ without physical intimacy ─ just holding hands, a little nudge here and there, and an occasional warm hug. Still she has accepted all of my invitations and seems happy when she’s with me."
She was so easy to talk to, about anything, about everything. He became alive when he was with her. They were relaxed and comfortable together, whether at a formal benefit or wearing blue jeans for a picnic in the park. He thoroughly enjoyed just being with her.
She tilted her head and gazed into his eyes. Her lips parted just a little, waiting.
He took a small half step toward her, put his arms around her and pulled her to him. Slowly, he brought his head down, his face close to hers, and stopped.
She didn’t move. Her dark, sexy eyes said it all ─ go ahead.
Barely touching, he brushed her lips with his. He felt her shudder. He felt her arms go around him. She pulled him tight against her. He already knew she wanted him. Now, he knew he wanted her too, more than anything.
As they kissed, her soft, moist lips moved against his. He responded, moving his hands across and around her back, giving and taking pleasure.
The chains surrounding his heart snapped and fell away. Repressed emotions rushed through his body, igniting the fire of desire. Their embrace locked them together, pushing the rest of the world away as fantasies transported him to another universe.
Stephen didn’t want the kiss to end. He floated in ecstasy and would have happily stayed there, but a distant siren coming closer brought his feet back to the ground.
Stephen pulled his head back a little without loosening his embrace. He smiled. She did too. He followed her eyes as they moved down his face and then back up to his. She spoke. “Once more.”
The second kiss again filled him with emotion and desire. He pulled her even tighter against him as they once again soared toward the height of ecstasy. Soon the delicious moment faded when the car with the screaming siren turned the corner and sped down the street past them, dragging the rest of the world with it.
Their lips parted. Slowly letting out his breath, he opened his eyes and stared into her dark, beautiful, passion-filled eyes. Suddenly feeling warm all over, he smiled. This evening was one he would remember.
Almost breathlessly she said, “I’ve waited a long time for that, Stephen.”
He lowered his head and smiled. “I know, Sheryl.” He looked away, raised his left hand, and began tracing an elliptical scar running horizontally from near his left eyebrow to just inside his hairline. He often did this when deep in thought, or when anxious.
He looked back at her. “I told you it would be difficult for me to become involved with anyone. That I could enjoy your company and doing things together, but not to expect much more.”
“Yes, you said that.” Her eyes sparkled and her lips spread in a small smile. “And you’ve said a lot more. We’ve gotten to know each other pretty well over these past few months.”
Pausing, looking deep into his eyes, Sheryl’s eyes narrowed and her soft voice became much stronger and more forceful. “Now I have something to say.”
Dr. Stephen Grant, Columbia University professor of political science, Middle East expert, and special assistant to the UN Secretary General, presented a handsome image. At just over six feet and one hundred ninety pounds, he maintained a trim figure and moved with an athletic grace that reflected continual physical conditioning.
A full head of light brown hair, just beginning to thin and gray around the edges, betrayed his maturity of nearly 50 years. Sensitive blue eyes revealed his normally compassionate nature, but could change instantly to convey sheer anger when appropriate.
He loosened his grip, but kept his right arm around her. “Yes, my dear.” He realized he had never called her anything other than her name. He smiled. “Yes.”
Without looking away from his eyes, she said, “I know you’ll always love Becky. And you should. She was your wife.”
Stephen knew he would love her forever. Rebecca, or Becky, a pretty, petite blonde, had been the joy of his life for 21 years of marriage, constantly filling his life with sunlight.
“Cherish her memory and the love you shared.” Sheryl began slowly shaking her head no. “But she died, Stephen. She can’t share this life with you anymore ─ other than in your heart.”
A terrible traffic accident had taken her away and robbed him of his happiness. For a moment, he again felt that excruciating emptiness in the pit of his stomach. The pain of her death had crushed his heart, and the joy in his life had been sucked out. He forced a deep breath.
He pictured Becky’s smile, the wind gently blowing her hair, and the warmth in her eyes when she mouthed the words, “I love you.” Their time together was incredible, filled with love and laughter.
He recalled the shock he had after her death when he walked into the next room of his apartment and saw her standing there. Surprise yielded to warmth as his heart leapt into his throat. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t say anything. He wanted to run to her and put his arms around her. But before he could do anything, her motionless figure disappeared. She was gone. Emotions hammered him as he realized she was never there. She was dead, and he would never feel her in his arms again.
Stephen had lived in severe depression for over a year, almost losing himself. His best friend Peter had helped him climb out of that dark hole.
Peter Standish, also a professor at Columbia, had become a friend when he and Stephen first started their teaching careers at Harvard. Peter had introduced Becky to Stephen. It was Peter who helped him finally get through the grief and restart his life again.
Stephen stood still, listening. Sheryl continued. “And there was Samantha.” She continued to stare deeply into Stephen’s blue eyes. “I know you loved her, Stephen.” She paused. “I understand you still do, and that’s okay. But now she’s gone too. The women you loved ─ neither of them are here for you anymore.”
He felt a longing in his heart, and tears formed in his eyes as he recalled how deeply he’d come to love Samantha Sorkin. Sam, as she liked to be called. She was a psychologist with a special clearance granted for treating members of the UN. And she was gorgeous. She set his heart on fire.
Stephen admired Samantha’s intellect also. She was quick, bright, always thinking. Yet in spite of her knowledge and experience, she often acted childlike in many ways. She seemed to live in fear of being swallowed up in a relationship and losing control of her individuality.
Stephen had learned from losing Becky that one could not live life successfully being fearful. You must force yourself to move forward, beyond that fear. In fact, his only real fear was not being able to love again. But Sam helped relieve that.
Thanks to his best friend Peter’s recommendation, Stephen had been drafted by the CIA to help identify and stop some terrorists who had formed a cell within the United Nations. The terrorists planned to start a nuclear war that would annihilate Israel and end world domination by the United States. Stephen became much more involved in that situation than anyone would have imagined, with repeated life-threatening events while traveling to Iraq, Egypt, and the Gaza Strip.
Samantha had also become involved and was eventually kidnapped. They both almost lost their lives before it was over. They came very close to death and ended up in the hospital afterward.
He pictured the last time he saw Samantha. She told him she had to go on a spiritual journey to find herself, and that she had to go alone, without him. She said goodbye and walked out of his life without looking back.
Knowing he had been lucky enough to have two loves in his lifetime, it took quite some time to get over them—first Becky, and then Sam. He had been alone now for what seemed like an eternity.
Then he met Sheryl Hauser. Five feet seven inches of dynamite, captivating looks, enticing smile, long dark brown hair, darker eyes, and curves in all the right places.
Having a cup of coffee while waiting for a friend at the Columbia campus New York Presbyterian hospital, his small table had the only vacant seat left in the cafeteria. He recalled hearing her soft, pleasant voice over his shoulder asking if she could join him until another seat became available. He remembered asking himself, as she sat down, how a woman could look and act that sexy without trying. Smiles led to pleasant conversation, which led to another meeting, and then the casual dating started. That was five months ago.
Stephen shared his feelings about his two loves and how it might be difficult for him to overcome that. However, he would welcome having someone to share some time with, do a few special things and just have some fun.
Sheryl explained she had experienced love in her life too, becoming engaged to a man while in medical school. They were to be married after she completed her residency. However, a tall redhead with big boobs and rich parents convinced Sheryl’s fiancé to accompany her to Rio, and Sheryl had not heard from him since.
Sheryl had joined a small group of doctors in her specialty at Manhattan Pediatrics on East 72nd Street and enjoyed a comfortable practice for the last seven years. Now in her late thirties, she had learned patience, wondering if she would find love again someday. In the meantime, she was open to sharing adventures and camaraderie with Stephen.
Now with both arms around her, Stephen felt her heart racing as she struggled to control her emotions. He saw the seriousness with which she spoke. He noticed her expression soften as she continued. “It’s okay to still love them ─ and it’s all right to love me, too.”
She rose up on her tiptoes, bringing her face closer to his. “I love you, Stephen. Do you hear me? I love you. And it’s okay. Our love is different. It doesn’t have to take away from your other loves. This is just ours, and it’s separate from the others.”
Her arms went back around him, and she put her head against his chest. She pleaded, “Let yourself go,” the urgency in her voice clear. After a moment, she pulled back and looked up at him. He saw tears flowing down her cheeks. “It’s okay to love me. It will grow. Just give it a chance.”
She snuggled against him. He enjoyed her movements and the sensations various parts of her body gave him ─ gifted him. But he also knew that what he felt was more than just the physical sensations. She satisfied his longing, his loneliness, without consuming him. He didn’t want to lose this. He had lost enough in his life already. He was not willing to give up more.
Stephen blinked as tears formed in his own eyes and he, too, tightened his arms around her. She felt so good against him, like she belonged there.
For a moment he didn’t have the strength to say anything, but a fire kindled within him. He felt it spread, rising up inside his very being. His voice finally returned with renewed strength. “I love you, too, Sheryl.”