Try A Little Tenderness

We both stand there, shuddering, panting, until we are able to lift our heads, focus our eyes on our reflection in the window, me still gripping onto the window sill. My hair has fallen out of the twist I'd put it in earlier, and Hari moves it out of my eyes. We stare at each other like this, smile when the opening bars of 'Try a little tenderness' start up again, the truly random nature of the shuffle setting coming to the fore. I watch as he listens to the lyrics, a slight re-setting of his shoulders that belies the onset of shyness, embarrassment. I straighten up and move my arms up around his head, embracing him, letting him feel loved for everything that he is. He closes his eyes, relaxes against me, and we sway again to the music, me feeling the warm sticky trickle down my thighs.

'It's ok, Hari,' I finally manage to say.

He opens his eyes, looks at me.

'Now I know how much you missed me,' I say. And he hugs me with his whole body, still trembling.

After a while longer standing like this, I reach for a glass that's on the drainer, turn the faucet on and fill the glass with cold water.

'Thirsty?' I ask Hari, as I take a long drink.

He nods, so I hold the glass up for him to take, watch as he lets go of me with one of his arms to take the glass, and as he swallows the water down I look at his throat.

'I thought you might be exhausted after the long flight,' I say.

'I got some sleep.' He puts the glass down on the drainer, grins. 'When I wasn't thinking about you.' He wraps his arm back around me now, swings and rocks us together.

'Huh. You were thinking about me, then?' I tease, delight in feeling him grin again, pressed against my cheek.

'Yes. I was. I think about you all the time,' he says, in-between kissing my face and earlobes and neck. 'But I couldn't believe how much I missed you in Geneva. It was like a physical ache, not seeing you, not having you near.'

'I missed you too. So much. I even went to the movies on my own, just so I wasn't at home by myself,' I reply.

A cooler breeze blows in through the open door and raises goose bumps on me, and on Hari. We finally break away, him releasing me from his grip, and I pull my dress back up over my shoulders and rub my arms. He shuts the door, picks up our wine glasses and walks into the living room. I follow, stepping over the shorts he's discarded on the floor. He's pulling a comforter off the back of the couch and laying it on the daybed. I look at him until he turns his head to me.

'I think we both like it here,' he smiles, patting the comforter. He's still erect and I wonder, not for the first time, how he manages that.

We lie down together, Hari pulling the comforter over us, rubbing his arms over mine, his legs over mine, to warm both of us up. I luxuriate in the feel of him, his satin skin. I listen to his heart beating in his chest, push his t shirt up higher to hear him more clearly, can't resist kissing him. Flicking his nipple with my tongue. I feel him relax, breathing deep and slow.

'Do you really want to move into this house? With me?'

'Yes. I want to live with you. In this house. Anywhere,' I say.

He shifts his body, pulls my face level with his. 'I love you, Hannah,' and shakes his head at me when I open my mouth to speak. 'No. There's more,' he says, looking so serious, his eyes large. 'I haven't said that to you before now because I was afraid. I didn't want you to feel like I was trying to make a claim on you, somehow, trying to take you away from what you had with Declan. I've seen how much you still miss him sometimes. I thought I should wait until you were sure of me, or ready, or - I don't know what. I was just waiting. But being in Geneva without you, it was all I could think about. That I love you. Am totally in love with you. But hadn't told you. And what if something happened and I never saw you again? You'd never have known. I would never have told you. Do you understand?'

His heart seems to be trying to bang its way out of his chest. 'Hari,' I say, and reach up to his face, and I feel the tears when I touch the corner of his eye. I prop myself up. 'Hey, hey, Hari. I'm here. I'm here now, look,' and smile. 'I think I was waiting for you to say it. I've felt it - that you love me, I mean - but it feels good to hear it. More than good. Much more.' I kiss him, just once. 'I think I've loved you the moment you sat opposite me at that restaurant last summer, with everyone flapping and fussing over the spilt water all over the table, and you just looked at me like you couldn't get enough of me, with those eyes of yours and -,' I laugh. 'Do you remember?' He's smiling, and we kiss again, a little longer this time.

'Ok, but listen, now I'm the one with more to say,' I press a finger against his lips before he can protest. 'I loved Declan with all my heart, and when we knew that nothing had worked and he was dying, I thought it would break and die with him. But he was so brave at facing up to it, to dying. He talked to me for hours about how he wanted me to keep on living once he was gone. To really live - to find happiness, and love. He was so young, Hari! No-one should die at thirty-six.' My voice cracks. I realise I'm sitting upright now, and Hari is holding both of my hands in his. 'But he is dead. He's gone from here, from this world, and although I do still miss him - grieve for him - that doesn't mean I can't also be in love with you. I know that, because that's how I feel. I loved Declan, but I love you, Hari, here and now.'

He swings his legs off the daybed to sit up, grabs me and holds me tightly, pulling the comforter around us, to try to stop both of us from trembling so much. He rubs my back, holding on, and we rock gently, quietly.

After a while, he pulls back to look at me. Kisses my face, my eyelids, my jawline. 'So,' he murmurs, 'you love me.'

I smile. 'Yes, Hari. I'm in love with you.'

He's kissing down the front of my neck to my collarbone. 'And I love you, Hannah.'

'Yes, you do,' I reply, sighing at the delicacy of his touch. Do those words sound even better when you can feel them being spoken against your bare skin?

We are rocking a little more quickly now, and my desire is gathering in my belly, coiling itself up, making heat. I move my legs to get closer to him, but Hari stops me, 'no', in a low voice, swings me to sit on the edge of the daybed, kneels in front of me. 'I haven't finished with you yet,' and leans in to pull my dress down again, to kiss my breasts, lightly biting one nipple, then the other, then back again until I fidget with impatience and try to pull him closer to me. He bites down harder, and I hold still, drop my head forward to kiss the top of his hair. I jump when he puts both hands on my sides and eases me backwards so he can kiss the line from my throat down to the top of my knickers pushing my dress out of the way, tugs at my knickers so that I lift up my hips and he pulls them down my legs to my ankles. He lifts a foot, unhooks them from one leg, leaves them looped around my other ankle, brings my leg up and over his shoulder, opening me out to him. It's delicious to feel this exposed to him. He notices the red spots on both hips where the sink has left its mark on me from earlier and he mutters, 'so sorry', before kissing them, whispering, 'so sorry' onto my skin. I lean back onto my forearms, feel him breathe along the inside of my thighs and back, kiss along the inside of my thighs and back, draw a finger along the inside of each of my thighs in turn. And back. It's maddening, and I fidget again. Hari pauses.

I moan, my breath caught in the back of my throat as I feel his lips on me, kissing me, tickling and licking me from front to back, front to back, front to back, moving infinitesimally closer to my clit, but bringing fire to every single cell in my body. He must know it, because he's barely touching me now, enough to elicit another moan out of me.

And then he's standing up, and I sit up and reach for him.

But again, 'no', he growls, and strides into the kitchen, returns with his hand grasping the chair back as he sets it down in front of me and sits on it, reaching out for me now, pulling me onto his lap. My legs are long enough that my feet are flat on the floor as I sit astride him, but he's urgent now, his eyes full of light and dark, and grips me around my hips as I find his cock with both hands, stroke it, enjoying my first touch skin to skin, but he's shaking his head, pulling at my hips, pulling me to him. I rise up and guide his cock, circling the tip around my clitoris just once, drawing a groan from the very back of his throat, before we push ourselves together, both shuddering as he fills me, pausing to feel each other, how we fit together, and then he's arching up into me, and I meet him, an exquisite ache at the base of my spine, reawakening the muscles that have been worked so hard already today in my ballet class.

'Hannah,' he's whispering in my ear, gripping me close to him, so tightly it almost hurts. 'Hannah.'

He's gasping now, bucking his hips high into mine and I lean back, head back, his hands hard on my hips, feeling myself starting to contract, feel his cock dragging up against my cunt each time he thrusts into me, feeling his heat and fury too, spinning and riding, giddy in the sky, my toes scratching the floor as I ball my feet and cry out.

And then we are both spent, trying to catch our breath and slow our hearts, wild-eyed, staring at each other. His mouth widens into a smile, then a grin, and then we are both laughing. I feel our juices sliding out of me, hot, pooling over Hari, and watch his eyes as he smiles more, wriggles to feel it, slippery between us.

'I'm glad you're home Hari,' I say, and he pinches my ass, his cock twitching inside me, still.

'So am I,' he says.