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Date Posted: 21:42:21 10/12/01 Fri
Author: Leigh
Subject: Re: Holiday Chapter 22
In reply to: Leigh 's message, "Holiday" on 22:53:18 10/06/01 Sat

Michael stood to the side as Nikita unlocked her apartment door. When she looked at him, her eyes silently inquisitive, he felt another wave of desire wash over him. She wanted to know if he would stay. Michael wasn’t sure. If he entered her apartment now, he’d find it very difficult not to want to make love to her. After all, he’d been fighting that urge all evening.

“It’s getting late,” he said, reaching for her hand and raising it to his lips. He pressed a warm kiss to the back of her fingers. “Thank you for tonight.”

Nikita nodded mutely, partly relieved at Michael’s indication that he was leaving, but also disappointed. Her mind warred with her emotions. Should I let him go? Ask him to stay?

He was backing away, starting to leave. Nikita grasped his hand, held his fingers tight. “Wait.” Her voice was low, her breathing unsteady as she searched his eyes.

Michael lingered. Logic told him to leave but his legs refused to move. Therefore he waited, leaving the choice up to her.

Nikita swallowed and then slowly and with great deliberation, stepped closer. “Stay,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. With her request the last of the barriers between them disappeared.

Michael leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and he kissed her slow and tender. He pulled back and gave her one last chance. “Are you sure?”

Nikita nodded slowly. She couldn’t remember wanting anyone as much as she wanted Michael right now. There was no need to pretend otherwise either. She could see in his eyes that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She stepped through the open door, still holding his hand, and pulled him gently in.

Once inside and the door was closed and locked, the two moved as if in a trance. The room was dark except for the light in the hallway. Nikita’s purse slipped to the floor, forgotten, as she again took the lead by stepping into Michael’s arms. This time their kiss was hungry and deep.

Nikita was vaguely aware of her coat being removed. It had to have been Michael because her hands were occupied with removing his coat. She dropped it, somewhere by the door. She couldn’t exactly remember where, let alone think. Michael’s mouth was blazing a trail down her neck and all she could think to do was to tilt her head back, giving him greater access.

In the next second, Michael scooped her off her feet. His eyes burned into hers. “Where?” he asked, his voice thick.

Nikita wrapped her arms around his neck. “Down the hall,” she responded, “to the left.”

Michael carried her to her bedroom. Inside, he set her down. He caught her face between his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “Its not too late,” he said, offering her one last chance to back out.

“You’re wrong,” Nikita replied, reaching for his shirt. “Its way too late.”



They made love slowly that night. It wasn’t that they wanted to. Nikita especially, Michael discovered, was an impatient lover. She writhed in his hands, inflaming him with her touch, her kisses and eagerness. Michael tempered her fire though with teasing kisses of his own along her stomach, her breasts, her long legs and secret places. He delighted in her moans, her pleas for release, and laughed softly at her growl as she flipped him on his back and became the aggressor, taking from him what she wanted.

Afterwards, they sat entangled in the middle of her bed. Nikita still straddled his lap but her fire was gone and she lay meekly in his arms, sated and happy as Michael brushed his fingers through her long hair. She laid her head upon his shoulder. He could tell by her breathing she was fast falling asleep.

Michael smiled and turned. He kissed her lips softly. Nikita made a noise deep in her throat. It sounded like a kitten’s purr, and Michael’s smile deepened. He tightened his arms around her, held her securely as he kissed her brow and then her cheek.

He’d been with other women since after Simone’s death. Not very many though and almost never more than once. He simply hadn’t wanted to become involved. To do so, he felt, would mean forgetting Simone and the love they shared and Michael hadn’t been ready to do that. Now, sitting here holding Nikita in his arms, having made love to her, Michael wasn’t sure what he wanted.

All of the other women he’d dated over the past few years had, at least in appearance, resembled Simone. He had been aware that his dating them had been, sub-consciously, a reaction to his longing for Simone. Nikita though was different. She was nothing at all like Simone. And yet, he’d been helpless to stop his attraction to her. Could this mean, he wondered, that he was finally beginning to let go the past?

Nikita stirred. She took a deep breath and stretched. With eyes still half closed, she pressed her forehead to his. “That was nice.”

Michael smiled and brushed his hand down her back. “Just nice?”

“Mmm.” She made the purring sound again. “Very nice,” she said, and then gave him a long kiss.

Afterward, Michael excused himself to go to the bathroom. Nikita pointed him in the right direction, admiring his body as he left the bed. When he returned, she was waiting for him under the covers.
Usually Michael made it a rule to leave shortly after having sex. It was another of his ways to make certain he didn’t become too involved with whomever it was he was with. But seeing Nikita curled up in bed, Michael couldn’t bring himself to leave.

Nikita smiled warmly up at him and held the covers up for him. He slipped in, laid on his back and looked up at the ceiling. Nikita pulled the covers up and the curled around him. Michael put his arms around her and drew her close till her head rested upon his shoulder. Her arm lay across his stomach, one of her legs tangled with his. Thus entwined, they fell asleep.

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