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Plagued by work, can they close the distance?

Despite my efforts, he turned again, his arm wrapping around my slender waist, pulling us closer together. The last thing I remember was him pressed against me, his face nuzzled into the back of my neck, breathing me in.

I felt the bed move next to me. It was then I realized that his arm wasn't around my waist any longer. An intense cold had settled upon me, my source of warmth having escaped the confines of our bed. I heard the unmistakable flick of a lighter. I turned in bed and leaned against the headboard.

"What's wrong baby?" I asked.

I saw the glow of the cigarette as he took a drag. He sat in the chair a few feet from the corner of the bed.

"I can't sleep next to you," he annoyed.

"Excuse me?"

"I hate this," he replied, a tremble in his voice.

I stopped suddenly. The tears sprung back to my eyes. This was it. It was over.

"Hate what, exactly?" I asked. A lump rose in my throat, my voice coming out choked.

"I hate not having you," his reply came out hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure of his words.

"What do you mean you don't have me? I'm right here baby," I replied quickly, my voice still weak.

"I don't have you. You go to school, you go to work, you come home and sleep. You take a bath every night and cry, as if I can't hear you, as if I'm deaf. It tears me apart. I want to go in there and hold you and tell you that no matter what it is it's okay, because I'm here, but I can't do that because I'm afraid you'll tell me to get out, and it will all be for nothing." The words came spilling out. The lump in my throat quickly returned to the nothingness from which it had sprung. I relaxed as I realized that all this time we felt the same thing and both of us were too afraid to say something about it.

I kneeled in the bed, slowly making my way across, in front of the chair. He took another drag as I stood up, as his eyes took in my figure courtesy of the orange glow. I took the three steps it took to reach the chair. As I reached him, I took the cigarette from his mouth. His breath stopped short as I took a drag and put out the cigarette in a nearby ash tray.

I felt his finger brush my leg gently, as if he truly feared touching me. I gently straddled him, my body just above his, my lips gently pressed to his forehead. I felt his hands slide up the satin that just covered my thighs, stop at my waist and slowly wrap around me. My mouth found his and kissed him softly, as if this were the first time. My tongue reached into his mouth teasing his, a soft moan escaping his lips into my mouth. I kissed my way across his cheek, reaching his ear. I nibbled and sucked softly as I felt him rise beneath me, his breathing becoming slightly labored.

"Please, don't ever be afraid to come to me," I pleaded.

I moved from his ear to his neck, biting softly in the most sensitive areas. His left hand departed from my waist, and moved up between my breasts, up the center of my chest, dragging up along my neck. When his finger reached my chin, he pulled my face up to meet his, kissing me passionately, pulling my body towards him so that we were pressed together. His lips parted mine.

"What if I want to come in you?" he asked, as if for permission.

I laughed softly.

"When have you ever been afraid of that?"

He quickly lifted my slim frame and threw it the few feet on to the center of the bed. I was shocked, at first. A mild fear came over me. I couldn't see him the dark of the room. I heard the flick of the lighter again, as he lit the sole candle on the desk of our room. He walked over to the bed and towered over me. Alex knelt on the bed next to me, taking my wrists and pinning them above my head with his left hand. As he kneeled on top of me, pinning my thighs just below the gown, I could feel his right hand tracing the neckline of the gown.

He bent down kissing my neck, sucking just hard enough to make me squirm beneath him.

"That's right," he said.

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