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Wife does two.
He wondered if this might be a little better time and place, and, no doubt being helped by the effects of the wine and the Mint Julep, decided it was. He turned her face to him, getting lost once again in those gorgeous green eyes, watching her return his gaze. He didn't know what she had gotten quiet about earlier, but he wasn't going to pass up this opportunity worrying about it.
He turned to her, moved in close, closed his eyes and pressed his lips gently against hers. She returned his kiss, softly, sweetly. Dallas's lips parted and he traced her lips with his tongue for a brief second. Carla followed by parting hers and their tongues met, darting, flitting. She encircled his neck with her arms, he pulled her hips close against him. A sharp intake of breath from both of them, and Dallas slid his tongue in a little deeper. Carla followed him, their kisses becoming more and more passionate, with soft sighs and sounds, so much so that they almost missed the "DING" and the doors opening on the third floor where their rooms were.
Reluctantly, they stopped. They looked at each other, and then the eye contact broke.
"Sorry," said Dallas. "I don't know what came over me."
"Yes you do," said Carla, with a smile.
"It's OK, Dallas."
"Yeah...but I do need time to think."
"Are you sure?"
They walked down the hall to their rooms, adjacent to each other.
"I hope you understand, Dallas."
"I do, I think."
"Are you sure?"
"OK. Let me sleep on this, and we'll talk tomorrow. I promise."
She took his chin in her fingers and raised it to her, so their eyes met. "Sure?"
"OK. Good night, Dallas. Sweet dreams."
"You too, Carla."
She gave him a quick peck on the lips, took out the key, opened the door, and entered her room, the door closing behind her.
Dallas stood there a minute, looking down, deciding that she wasn't really coming back tonight, and so he turned and went to his door, unlocked it, walked in, pressed it shut.
He leaned back against the door, bowed his head, and closed his eyes for a few minutes, wondering and confused. What was she feeling? Had she come to think this was all some awful idea and that she was sorry she'd even come down here? Had she decided that she just didn't feel that attraction and so she was taking things back a few steps? Or was it something else?
He made his way to the queen bed of the ornately decorated room and sat down, and then laid down, for a long time, it seemed, wondering what was going through her head, not knowing for sure what was going through his. He did know one thing. He would never forgive himself if he had wrecked what they had developed. True, they were both adults, and they both had consented to making this trip, but it had ultimately been his suggestion. He wasn't sure how he would deal with the next few days and weeks if she decided to end their conversations. He wished for a moment that they could go back to the way things were, if only they could. That was a very big "if."
A knock came. He went to the peephole.
Carla stood in the hall.
Dallas cracked open the door, and he saw her standing there, with her brunette hair and green eyes, and a soft smile. She had donned a terrycloth robe, tied at the waist, which hung just to the top of her thighs, revealing her long, beautiful legs. Whether or not anything was on under that robe was left to the imagination.
"Surprise," she said. "I'm done thinking."
Dallas raised an eyebrow, keeping the door partially open. "You sure?"
"Well, truthfully, I was sure about the time I got out of the elevator."
"And so you made me sit in here and sweat, huh?"
"Yep," she grinned. "That is my way. And I think I gotcha."
Indeed she had. She had gotten him again. Maddening, but he loved it. He opened the door, stepped to the side, and watched as Carla made her way past him into the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. She turned to him, patted the spread.
"Come," she said, "sit down." He walked over, did as she asked.