The cigarette smoke curled like a ghost through the evening air as I opened the balcony door. “Got a light?” The voice came from the left, and I flinched. The man from room 412 leaned on the railing, the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke mingling with the scent of salt and summer rain. I had seen him earlier in the hallway, walking past with his suitcase—gray suit, tired eyes, a smile that didn’t quite reach them. Now he stood there, barefoot, his shirt open to the sternum, looking at me.
“Sorry, I don’t have one.” I raised my empty hands. “I don’t smoke.”
He grinned crookedly. “Too bad. I thought maybe you’d have one. Or at least a good excuse.”
“For what? Standing on the balcony enjoying the view?”
“For standing here to meet someone.”
I laughed quietly. “No. Just boredom. Business trip. You too?”
“Conference. Marketing. Deadly boring.” He put the cigarette back in the pack. “I’m Lukas, by the way.”
“Lea.”
We fell silent. The city lay below us, a sea of lights blurring in the haze. I felt the coolness of the railing under my hands, heard the clinking of glasses from a restaurant somewhere below. Lukas leaned next to me, his shoulder just a hand’s breadth from mine. I smelled soap, something woody, and a hint of sweat rising from his skin.
“You know,” he said, without looking at me, “I’m married. Ten years. Two kids.”
I nodded, though he couldn’t see it. “Me too. Eight years. One kid.”
“And yet here we stand.”
“Because we’re tired. And lonely. And because the night is so damn long.”
He turned his head, looked at me. His eyes were dark, almost black in the pale light. “I want to kiss you, Lea.”
My breath caught. “You shouldn’t.”
“I know. But I still want to.”
I stepped closer. The distance between us shrunk to the thickness of a breath. “Then do it.”
His lips were soft, surprisingly tender. He kissed me slowly, as if trying to stop time. I felt his hand on my neck, his fingers gently stroking my skin. The kiss deepened, became more demanding. My knees went weak. His tongue found mine, exploring, tasting. I let my hands slide over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath the shirt. A soft moan escaped me as he pulled me tighter. When we broke apart, I was panting. “That was a mistake.”
“The best mistake of the day,” he murmured, pulling me back. This time he kissed me with an urgency that surprised me. His hand wandered over my back, under my blouse, my skin burning under his fingers. I felt my body respond to him, every touch an electric shock.
The Threshold
His room was the mirror image of my own—same furniture, same view, only the bed was made differently. He led me inside, his hand on my back, as if I might run away at any moment. But I didn’t want to run. I wanted to be right here, in this strange room with this strange man who smelled of smoke and soap.
He closed the door behind us. The soft click of the lock was like a seal. I leaned against the wall, watching him come closer slowly. His shirt stretched over his shoulders as he raised his arms to take it off. Beneath it, his skin was pale, with a fine line of dark hair running from his navel downward. I swallowed. The sight sent warmth rising inside me.
“You too,” he said softly.
I obeyed. My blouse rustled as I pulled it over my head. The bra followed, and I stood before him, only in jeans and panties. His gaze traveled over my body, slowly, as if absorbing every detail. I felt my nipples harden under his look. The light draft from the fan made me shiver.
“Beautiful,” he breathed. “Damn beautiful.”
He stepped closer, placing his palms on my hips. His fingers dug gently into my flesh, pulling me away from the wall, against his body. Bare skin on bare skin—a shock that shot through me. I felt his heartbeat, fast and strong, and beneath it, the curve of his erection pressing against my belly. I pressed into him involuntarily.
“I want you,” he said, his voice hoarse. “But if you say no, I’ll leave immediately.”
I shook my head. “Don’t say no. Just do it.”
He lifted me up, my legs wrapping around his hips. I felt the weight, the warmth, the anticipation spreading in my lower belly. He carried me to the bed, let me slide onto the cool duvet. Then he knelt over me, bent down, and took one of my nipples into his mouth.
I moaned, arching my back. His tongue played around the hard tip, pulling gently, releasing, repeating on the other side. My hands buried themselves in his hair, pressing him tighter against me. A trickle of sweat dripped from his forehead onto my chest. I felt moisture gathering between my legs.
“Lukas,” I gasped. “Please…”
“Please what?”
“More. I want more.”
He grinned, a wild, hungry expression. Then he slid lower, kissing my belly, the insides of my thighs. His breath was hot on my skin, and I trembled as he grabbed the fabric of my panties with his teeth and pulled them down slowly. I lifted my pelvis, helping him. Then I lay naked before him, open, ready. The cool air from the fan made me shiver, but his closeness warmed me.
He let out a soft curse. “Lea…”
“Yes.”
His tongue found me immediately. A long, slow stroke from bottom to top that made me cry out. I gripped the sheets, clinging tight, as he pleasured me with his mouth. He knew no haste, no hesitation. He dove into me, tasted, caressed, until I lost control. My pelvis moved against his face, my hips thrust toward him, and I heard myself begging, whispering, screaming. The tension built, a knot in my lower belly growing tighter and tighter.
“Come for me,” he murmured, the words vibrating on my skin. “Come now.”
And I did. A spasm that began deep inside me and spread like a wave, sweeping everything away. I arched, my knees trembling, and a scream tore from my throat that I couldn’t suppress. He held me tight until the last tremor faded. I lay there, breathing, the world around me blurred.
The Union
I lay there, panting, my limbs heavy.
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