Homecoming

He was sitting at my baby grand when I stumbled in, tipsy from a night out with the girls. My body recognized him even as my brain struggled with the impossibility. A slow wave of desire began to simmer in my belly.   I stood in the doorway, transfixed by his long, sensuous fingers, his crystal blonde hair catching the light of the single lamp I had left burning.  It was as if he were making love to the piano, stroking sounds of ecstasy from the keys.  Tendrils of lust began curling around my limbs, rooting me in place. The final strains of the melody lingered a moment in the room.  Jake placed those beautiful hands in his lap as he turned to face me, his face unreadable. I inhaled sharply.

"How did you get in here?"  my voice stumbled, but we both knew that it wasn't from fear.

"Did you think to keep me away?" Jake laughed, then stood up.  Even from ten feet away, he towered over me. He began a slow, deliberate walk to close the distance between us. His eyes were electric, charging the very air  My skin felt combustible, and the temperature rose with every step.

"I told you, Lorelai," Jake spoke softly, inches away.   He gently lifted my chin and I found my eyes riveted by the intensity in his. 

"We are meant to be.  Nothing can separate us.  Not time, not death, not distance, and certainly not a simple deadbolt lock on your door."

His lips roughly claimed mine, and suddenly I remembered everything.




Sorry if this steamed up your coffee a bit.  This is further proof that I really shouldn't be left to my own devices for too long. 




The prompt is the third definition of "deliberate".


The first part of this week’s prompt is the word: orphan. Please feel free to use any definition of the word for inspiration.
The second half of the prompt is an image:

This image courtesy of F3D3.86 via Flickr Creative Commons