SPRING

 

Lisa Martin

 

 

“Sam, stop it!!”

I open my eyes slowly. There is an edge of despair in Al’s voice, and in his eyes as well.

“What?” I inquire.

“What you were doing just now!” Yep, definitely despair. Getting worse by the second.

“I didn’t do anything unusual,” I reply, stretching myself lazily.

“That!” An outcry with an accusing finger pointed at me. This could be fun.

“Oh.” I grin. “Don’t worry. I won’t fall out. See?” I can see the sweat breaking out on his face and I’m fairly sure it has little to do with the outside temperature.

“Sam!!”

“You’re sweating,” I state, tracing a droplet of sweat along his face with my finger. Great, now he’s shivering! “Ah well, no wonder. It’s much too warm to walk around like that.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Next stage. He can’t keep eyecontact anymore. This *is* fun!

“Nothing, if you wanna melt, that is. I prefer less clothing.”

He’s at a loss for words now, which gives me time to look at him more closely. Black pants, silk orange/gold shirt, gold tie. The shirt suits him, gives him a certain ....I don’t know. It just suits him.

“I can see that,” he mutters finally. I don’t know if it’s an answer to my statement or to my thoughts. Both probably.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” I ask him. Eh..wrong move , Beckett. Now he’s staring at me, almost dissecting me. I’m getting warm too.

“Weeelll.” Here it comes. “Nothing, I guess. Except for the fact that you’re only wearing shorts.”

I wriggle a bit in the hammock, and I see I’ve managed to turn the tables with that move. His eyes dart around the garden, avoiding to look at me. “Sam, please...”

“Please what?” Innocently now. “Please stop, please continue? If so, with what?” Keep a straight face, Sam. Don’t let him see you barely can stifle a laugh.

“Stop!”

“Okay...” I can hardly get the word out. Take a deep breath. What is he doing now? Walking away?? Oh no, you don’t! I grab him by the waistband of his pants and pull him back, meanwhile getting out of the hammock.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Inside. You’re getting on my nerves.”

“Funny, I thought it was something different.” I press myself against his back now, unabling him to move.

“Saaaaam!” My hands are already loosening his tie. “Sam...” He’s squirming now.

“I’ll stop if you want me to. Just say so.” His head falls back on my shoulder.

“You’re playing dirty.”

“And you love it.” The tie is loose, and I recklessly throw it away. No comment. Hmm, I must be doing something right here. Al’s clothes are almost sacred to him. Buttons. Opening them one by one. Slowly. Teasingly. I wonder how long he is going to let me go on. Not long. In a swift move he turns in my arms, grabs my arm and drags me with him.

“Inside!”

Once inside, he pulls me to him, our mouths finding each other with well-practised ease. The kiss is heavenly, as always. I can’t help grinning as we part.

“Told you we couldn’t keep our hands of each other for a day.”

“You tricked me into it.” He tries to sound stern, but it’s a lost battle.

“Objections?” A broad grin crosses his features.

“Nah. But I have a few tricks up my sleeve too, lover.”

I can’t help it, but every time he calls me ‘lover’ in that silky, seductive voice my knees grow weak. And he knows it!

“Show me,” is all can choke out.

Well, he did. But that’s another story. 

 

 

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