For the Love of Art.

My dream came true. Episode One

There was a defeated tension in the air between us. He pretended to be consumed by the meeting, the content and my photography but his eyes spoke something else I had yet to figure out. His eyes were having a different conversation and I was hoping they were consumed by me. However, I could now allow myself to think this way, in the end it might hurt to much and he would weaken me. I did not want him to make me vulnerable as there was such a fire burning inside of me for this man. 

It had been two years of hoping, wishing and even knowing I would be standing there one day at his NYC penthouse. I knew this would happen therefore it was my dream coming true. And there I was, looking over my photography prints with him ready to edit and soon to publish my book, which was another dream of mine happening right before me. I stood there watching him contemplate over my photos all spread out on his table. His table, I wanted to lay on his table, I wanted to scream this is his table but I had controlled that impulse inside of me. I wanted to think very inappropriate thoughts, but I stopped myself. 

Instead, I focused on my photography, and then I glanced at him. His arms were folded against his chest, his black shirt, hugging his arms ever so gently and ever so perfectly. His jeans fit him loosely and looked comfortable. His hair was wispy around his face framing his cheek bones and amplifying his beautiful intense blue eyes of a quiet lake. His mouth was pressed together and he then started rubbing his chin... and the few hairs he had sitting there. Oh I thought I needed to stop looking at him like he is a perfectly painted piece of artwork which he actually was in my eyes and many other woman's eyes. 

I quickly refocused once he spoke.  "I think one and ten should go together" he said and then looked at me and smiled. I loved his voice, it was soothing and so young like. It did not sound that of a 47 year old mans voice. It was relaxed and laid back reflecting his own personality that always put every one at ease around him, except me. Me, he had in a tangled mess, full of many creatures flying around in my stomach with many thoughts going along in my head. "I agree, you have such a good eye for this and I love your organization of my pictures" I responded.  He then walked over with a smirk on his face toward the counter by his kitchen. His kitchen.

His kitchen was small, but a perfect size for one man living alone. Stainless steel appliances probably the best around, dark grey granite counter and basically one very expensive coffee pot standing there alone sort of like how I pictured him in his apartment all alone. He had however added a bottle of Pinot Noir to the counter and sat on one of his stools as he waved over for me to join. 

He had already taken out the wine and two glasses from when we had arrived to his place and the wine had been opened to air out. He poured slowly in the two glasses set for us as I sat across from him. Our knees kept bumping into each other so I sat still as I did not want to touch him. It seems as if he noticed as he gave me an odd look. "A toast to you, and your work being published, as well as dreams coming true!" he raised his glass to mine as we clicked away. 

I smiled at him as I took a sip of the delicious dry wine that started to warm up my body. I watched him sip his as he closed his eyes. "Good stuff," he said. "Yes and thank you for everything you are doing for me" I replied gratefully. He smiled again. 

An hour went by and we talked and laughed about various subjects. We had a nice flow to us and I really enjoyed it as I was in the moment with him as we sipped more of his wine. At this point our knees were touching and I did not care. The wine was running through me nicely and warmly and I was comfortable. I felt all my inhibitions falling off of me like pieces one by one. He then looked contemplative again, suddenly I wondered what could this man be thinking.  

He took my glass out of my hand and placed it on the counter as my eyes followed his hand, the glass and then onto the counter my eyes stayed there. Before I knew it both of his hands were on my face and his lips had fallen onto mine. Everything happened so fast I was spinning yet I was in slow motion. All I knew was that his lips moved slowly with mine, they were connected as they danced perfectly coordinated moves. So did his hands, brushing against my face while the other was tangled in my hair grabbing it softly. He had conquered me. 

He quickly stopped and he was out of breath with his forehead resting on mine.  I opened my eyes, making sure this was not a dream, but I was lost and perplexed and yet amazed as how close we were. I breathed him in, his scent so musky and manly so sweet and raw..."I am so so sorry," he whispered...