Who: Alexandrea Barton What: Alex wakes from a dream. Where: Her bedroom, Chicago When: Saturday, February 20, 2010: 8am CST Rating: PG-13 Status: Narrative.
The sun steamed slowly through the window and cast its light on the figure on the bed ; Alexandrea kept her eyes closed against the glare and felt the corners of her lips tugging up into a smile.
Her body felt..languid and used in the most delicious way. Muscles she’d forgotten about ached slightly and the length of warm thigh pressing against her hip reminded her that last night she’d shared her bed. And if those weren’t enough, there was a hand that snaked over her stomach and was currently resting as though it belonged there on her breast.
She could remember only snatches of the night ; a half drunk bottle as she’d stared at the telephone in her hand and wondered who she could call - less wine in the bottle but a pleasant sort of buzzing in her stomach as she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock – the feeling of the wall, hard against her back as her fingers scrabbled to find skin - finally, the sighs and moans being swallowed by a face rough with stubble as it roamed over her flushed skin.
Alex was still smiling as she turned to manoeuvre herself closer to the still sleeping figure, and felt her hand slide into cold and open space. Opening her eyes finally, she stared at the bed.
It was empty and by the look of the unruffled pillow, no one had slept in it. She was alone and left with the feeling of ice in her stomach at the prospect of another day and night alone.