30 Day Writing Challenge · Blogging · challenge · Fiction · Second chance · stories


Previously published on February 16th of 2017.



The wind was blowing strongly in the backstreet, whistling through the old windows’ cracks…  But her flat was an oasis in the winter’s cold,  and she knew it.

Hundreds of times, she had imagined walking up the stairs, followed by his footsteps, wondering what would happen if she managed to lure him in her lair. Now hearing the stomping of his boots in the staircase, she shivered, hoping the evening would live up to her expectations…

How could it not, anyway?

Claiming she had to check the day’s mail, she had let him in, and peeked back over her shoulder as he walked slowly towards the living room, in the most natural way. As if he had been there time and again, as if they already shared memories between her walls.

Joining him, she paused by the coffee table. He was so painfully handsome, sitting carelessly, while she lit the candles one by one, taking her time. All of her urged to rush to him, but she forced herself to play it cool, enjoying his following gaze and his warm smile. Standing again, she walked to the corner of the room to put on some music when he broke the silence first.

-Come here…

He had streched out an arm to invite her to cuddle against him. She had waited for that moment for what seemed like an eternity. The silly little girl in her wanted to believe that she had waited for it all of her life. It was ridiculous. She knew it, but she didn’t care the least bit.

She had raw desire for him… A luscious craving to taste every inch of his body, but she didn’t want to rush things, this time. She had lived enough to know she would get to enjoy the pleasure of his skin against hers if she kept patient. She wouldn’t dare to play hard to get with him, but she didn’t want to skip steps either.

She sat on the sofa, next to him, and lay her head on his shoulder. Her left hand hesitated for a second, but the need to touch him was too great, and her fingers trembled as she rubbed her palm on his chest, at last.

He was speaking soflty, right to her ear, and she murmured back in the moving light of the lightly scented candles’ flames… They were exchanging mundane bits and pieces of their lives, but the ambiance gave their conversation an intimate taste… Pillow talk, just without the pillow sharing.

She breathed deeply, her nose in the hollow of his neck. The day was getting old, meaning the scent she picked on the collar of his shirt wasn’t that of the freshly taken morning shower, or the aftershave he might have used. It was his smell… She felt a bit tipsy in his arms, breathing so close to his skin, wondering if her warm exhale turned him on.

For the moment, she just let herself drown in the warmth of his body. The winter roaring outside made his embrace even more comfortable. She wanted to tell him… Wanted to ask him to stay, wanted to wait for the sun to rise again whilst in his arms.

Her hand had timidly made its way up to the nape of his neck, and he stopped talking when her fingers finally ran in his light short hair. She felt him shivering and tilted her head back a little. His blue gaze wouldn’t leave hers, and their smiles were only inches away… So close that she could feel his breath on her lips…

“So close”, she thought for herself. The building up anticipation made her want to give up and throw herself at him, covering him with passion, but she just enjoyed the yearning too much to let herself loose just now.

-You’re so…


He smiled, pulled her a little closer and bending to her ear, whispered,

-You’re so in trouble if you don’t send me home… Right now.

She wanted trouble… And his tone suggested he was in for trouble too. Wanting to answer, words seemed stuck in her throat, and she just shook her head. His voice still echoed in her head.

Guiding her chin to face her again, he briefly paused before pressing his lips on hers. Clumsily first, bringing the long gone teenager out of her. A bit shy, she closed her eyes to allow herself to let go, and it didn’t take long before their mouths mastered the intricate ballet, pulling soft moans out of her when his hand chanced under the soft fabric of her skirt, and delicately up her thigh…

Suddenly, she backed up from his embrace, and stood up, next to the couch. Offering her hand, she wondered when she had last felt sexy like that. She could read in his look the throws of passion she was about to unleash with a few innocent words.

Reaching for his hand, and inviting him to stand up again, she pulled him across the room. Before turning the door knob to her room, she turned his way…

-Time for trouble?

-Time for trouble… Mademoiselle…

He grabbed her by the waist, and made her swirl, as he pushed the door and dragged her in the shadows behind the door.



This is my take for #30DayWritingChallenge Day 17: Post one of your sexier pieces of fiction. You can visit the original post here, and read Marquessa’s here.


5 thoughts on “Trouble…

    1. Hehehehe it sure was the intention… But I’m still not very comfortable with ”sexy”. I easily play with romance, but for some reason, when it gets under the belt, I get a little shy 😉


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