All right, so I have to admit something; there is a sex scene in this. I AM GOING TO PUT IT IN ITALICS so that if you want to skip over it, you can and just read the rest of the story. Don't complain if you don't like R rated scenes because with the way I am putting it on, you don't even have it read that scene.
“Come on, it’s only a game,” Gemma said with a twinkle in her darting green eyes.
Simon ran his hand against the stone, pushing his weight onto his fingers. Pressing away, he shook his light head. “But the sign says we can’t.” Simon pulled away from the crumbling wall of the old Abbey. “Besides,” he looked up to the wet sky, “it’s raining and I could slip and fall.”
Gemma laughed and her dark, thick curls bounced on her shoulders. “Si, it’s always raining here; we live in fucking Wales. Don’t be such a baby. I dare you.” She placed her hands on her hips and gave him a demanding look.
He took a deep breath. “Fine, fine- I’ll do it. Just don’t laugh if I die.” Simon gave her a frustrated look before placing his foot in a crevice and hauling himself up. Over and over again, he found a small foot hole to use as leverage to climb higher. Finally, he reached the ledge of the ruins. Sitting on the stone proudly, he called down to Gemma, “And you thought I wouldn’t be able to get this far.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I was wrong.” Without another word, she stabbed her foot into the wall and within minutes was sitting next to Simon.
They looked out to the field and ruins of Tintern. In the distance, A466 trailed across their view. Every Saturday they meet in the nave of the old Abbey and talked. They talked about religion- the reason for their secretive meetings- poets, films and anything that reminded them why they loved each other.
“I wish we could stay here all day,” she whispered, leaning her head against the shoulder of Simon’s green jacket.
He wrapped his arm around her body, pulling her even closer to him. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he lightly kissed her hair. “Me too,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “If only I wasn’t marrying Jaz.”
Gemma leaned her head forward and kissed his mouth. His kiss was gentle and brought back memories of their first kiss nearly nine years ago. He still had those soft lips but the wispy, adolescent beard was gone. “My parents would never allow me to marry someone who isn’t Catholic.”
Simon nodded his head in understanding. His parents would never permit a marriage of him and somebody who wasn’t an Anglican. “If I had my way I would buy two one way tickets to London and take you with me. We would be so happy. I could design a set for a production and you could teach- anybody would want you.”
Gemma smiled.
They sat, entangled in each other’s bodies, for another half hour. Their clothes were plastered to their skin. Breaking the silence, Simon said, “We should get home.” He pushed himself off the ledge and fell on his feet with a thud. Turning towards her, he raised his arms and assisted her down.
They walked back up the road, holding hands. At the fork in the road with one side leading to St. Arvans and the other to Chepstow, they stopped walking.
Gemma took a step closer to Simon, closed her eyes, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. She opened her mouth, and her tongue darted between his lips light-heartedly. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She broke her lips from his and gave him a loving squeeze.
Simon started walking towards Chepstow as Gemma made her way towards Tintern.
Weeks rolled by and their Saturday meetings continued with more longing, passion and bravery than ever before. The days were decreasing until Simon’s wedding day and nerves were running high. Gemma walked around town hoping that Simon would appear on the street and declare his love for her and marry her that night. Simon attended every wedding date with Jaz, held her hand and pretended to be engaged but every time Jaz spoke, all he could hear was Gemma.
