(this work belongs to Brynn Paulin and cannot be duplicated without permission)
If you were here, I would give you a hug and drive away the pain. Then I would take you out for a drink. We would get drunk, then I’d take you home and kiss away the memories of the jerk at work. I will let you imagine what would happen in my bed. Let us just say, you would not want to soon leave. Most sincerely and with love, Alexi.
Torie groaned aloud when she read her pen pal’s vow. That man could turn her on like no other. And she’d never actually met him.
Alexi had been writing to her since they were both sixteen. Over the years—ten now—they’d gotten to know more about each other than she’d have dreamed possible. His written words enveloped her with his virtual hugs. He was her confidante and faraway champion.
At first, they’d communicated by traditional mail, but now they spoke via email, but still once a week. Every Friday, she’d sign on and there would be an email from him. She’s spend an hour replying. Strangely, the only picture she had of him was from the early pen pal days. They’d never exchanged more recent photos. She wanted to see what the adult Alexi looked like, but was reluctant to ask. Perhaps he didn’t want to share.
Today, in this letter, he was comforting her. She’d had a bad week last week.
She’d just hit reply when her doorbell rang. Of all the timing!
With a sigh, she headed for the door. A tall man, with dark curly hair and shockingly blue eyes, stood on the other side. He smiled, displaying a beautiful smile with even white teeth.
“To Rye?” he asked, in a thick accent.
She blinked at him then shook her head. “Um…no?”
“You are not To Rye.” He frowned, a furrow developing between his brows. “Perhaps I am saying it wrong.” He pulled a pen and a piece of paper from inside his jacket then scribbled something. He showed it to her. “How do you say?”
Her eyes wide, she stared at him. “Torie,” she murmured then gasped, “Alexi?”
“Yes,” he replied with a wide smile. “I have come to bring you your hug.”
“Oh my goodness! Get in here,” she exclaimed, pulling him inside her apartment. “I can’t believe you’re here. In Cleveland.”
He looked at her, his gaze heavy with unspoken words and emotion. “It was important for me to meet you. I have come to care for you through our letters.”
A flutter went through her and a twinge of longing pulled at her middle.
“I feel the same way,” she confessed. Actually, she’d come to love him. Could she confess that? Should she? There couldn’t be much of a future for them. He lived in France where his Russian father had settled and married his French mother. She was a third generation American who had no intention of becoming an ex-patriot.
His large hand cupped her face and his thumb smoothed over her cheek. “I had to see you.”
As if they were magnets that had been kept apart but now, in close proximity, were drawn together, their bodies moved close. Torie tipped her head to look up at him, and his mouth immediately covered hers. His taste of coffee and mint exploded into her, his scent of woods and male musk filled her lungs. She groaned as his hard chest met her softness, his arms wrapping her and holding her like a long-lost lover. She followed suit.
Her body melted at his touch, need winding inside her with such suddenness it shocked her. Her nipples drew tight, pressing the cloth of her shirt, needing to be free. When his palm came up to cup one mound, she sighed into his mouth. Suddenly, as frissons of pleasure wove to her core, she realized herself and stepped backward, breathing heavily.
She pressed a hand to her face. “What you must think of me…”
“I think,” he replied, “you have been waiting for me. I know…you have not been with another in eighteen months. And when you were, it killed me.”
Torie glanced up at him wide-eyed.
“I want…” he continued, “to explore this with you. To finally have you as mine. Not on paper but in life. I have obtained employment here in Cleveland. I hope that we might…date.”
He was living here? Her emotions did a happy dance, and she grinned at him. Dating sounded wonderful. “You should know I don’t kiss on the first date,” she laughed.
“We have had hundreds of dates, ma chère,” he replied. He stepped closer and looped his arms around her waist. “And I would like to have many more. What do you say?”
She bit her lip and knew she was grinning like a lovesick fool. Who cared? Alexi was here and she felt the same way he did. “I say yes, Alexi. Remember what you wrote in your last letter?”
She rose on tiptoes and brushed her lips over his ear. “Show me. Most sincerely and with love, Torie.”
Thanks for reading! I hope you return next week. Leave me a comment!!! Also participating in Monday Minute Fiction:
Ashley Ladd and her story, Book Man.
Check it out!!!!
If you’re an author who’d like to participate in Monday Minute Fiction, please contact me and I’ll hook you up for next week and on.