You know the drill. Real people, fictional story.
I’m sure the Emmys have given lots of inspiration, how could they not? Here’s one take on where that inspiration had led me.
The lights are down and Chris slips his hand into Mariska’s to lead her to their seats. The seat fillers move as they approach and Chris grins when he looks at the row behind them. He was supposed to be sitting in the second row, with Peter next to Mariska.
It feels more than anything that they’re on a date, like a married couple finally getting a night out while the kids are at home with a babysitter. He has her undivided attention and he’s reveling in it.
He watches as she laughs at the show, taking in the way she turns toward him as if to make sure that he’s enjoying everything too. She puts her hand on his arm and he stops himself from checking his watch to see how much longer they have to stay. His breathing slows when she presses herself against his side.
“I want to leave,” she whispers.
“Your category hasn’t even come up yet.”
“Please, I’m not going to win.”
“You’re having fun though,” he responds.
“But we could be having more fun,” she tells him.
He wants nothing more than to kiss her, right then and there. He wants to hold her face in his hands while she opens her mouth to him so that he can taste her. He wants to rest his forehead against hers when they need a moment to breathe.
They find time for everything else: the heat; the desire; the release. And as comfortable as they’ve grown in public displays of affection, there’s still a certain level of restraint shown. What he really wants is to be able to keep her hand in his as long as he wants and to be able to kiss her without having to make it look staged.
Moving her bangs back into place, he looks her up and down. Alright, he could go for the kind of fun that she has in mind.
He clears his throat. “Soon.”
She smiles, knowing that they’re on the same page.
She’s three drinks in and can feel his breath on her neck. She should probably be more concerned since they’re in the middle of a party, but she tilts her head back and tries to will him closer to her. His arm wraps around her, his hand splaying across her stomach, and she sighs.
He’s been glued to her side all night and she has no complaints. She laughed to herself each time a male friend came to talk to her and Chris managed to get closer to her or work his way into the middle of the conversation, verbally and physically. It’s obvious that he wants her to himself, and the feeling is mutual.
Turning away from him, she sets her empty glass down and reaches for her purse.
“Next party?” she asks.
He nods, knocking back the last of his own drink.
With a hand on the small of her back, he starts toward the exit.
When they get in the limo, she surprises him by telling the driver to take them back to the hotel. Once they pull away from the curb, she puts up the privacy partition.
“Don’t act like you don’t know why we’re going back to the hotel,” she says.
Her arms are around his neck and she pulls herself toward him. He grabs her hips as she kisses his neck. Her lips move across his jaw line and the up to his mouth. Their movements are slow and deliberate.
Tonight he doesn’t want to fuck her; he wants to be with her.
Closing the door to the hotel room, he finds her waiting on the bed for him. He drinks in the sight of her while loosening his tie.
“You look gorgeous,” he tells her.
She reaches up to take down her hair and pulls the flower out of her hair. Her hands rest in her lap and she looks down, turning the flower over. Chris sits next to her and turns her chin toward him.
“Hey,” he says.
She rests her head on his shoulder and smiles.
“Do you remember the song we danced to at my wedding?” she asks.
“Of course I do.”
He kisses her forehead before he starts to hum the chorus. Winding her arms around his waist, she shifts and covers his mouth with hers.
She pulls back and tells him, “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too, Babe.” He pecks at her lips as he lowers her down on the bed. “Me too.”
Mariska opens her eyes and turns to look at the alarm clock. It’s after 4 in the morning and there’s no way she wants to be awake. She feels Chris stir next to her and briefly contemplates going back to her suite. His arm tightens around her and she closes her eyes, the thought leaving her mind.
She’s right where she wants to be.