The Beginning

Dream

He had awaken something in her. Something she had been trying to restrain for quite some time. And now it ached. It ached to be released.

. . .

Michael let go of her hand and stood up, walking towards the locked door.

Still seated on the couch, Diana didn't quite know what to make of what had just happened. She was baffled. Baffled at his boldness. Baffled at her lack of self control. And most of all, baffled at how good it felt.

"You gotta open it for me."

"Wha..."

"The door." Michael motioned with his hands.
"There's no key in here."

"Of course." She stood up, looking for the keys.
Where are those damn keys?

She found them over the kitchen balcony, where Ted had thrown them earlier. Mentally cursing him, she walked towards the door. She felt dizzy. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea trying to drink the frustration away.
With each step she took closer to Michael, the air rapidly left her lungs, and it wasn't coming back at the same speed. Finally reaching the door handle, she unsuccessfully tried to slide the key in. Her hands were shaking. Why were her hands shaking?
She let out a deep, frustrated sigh.

"Let me help you with that."

Diana felt him slowly wrap his hand around hers and watched as he guided her, finally reaching the door lock.

She couldn't comprehend how such a simple action provoked her already confused body so much. It was almost like she could feel each cell of his body that was in contact with each cell of her own. And they all craved the same thing.

Michael's vision was blurred. Not in a million years he imagined he would ever have the nerve to act like that with Diana, ever. But somehow he did. And it felt right. It felt natural.
His lips were still tingling, incredulous, from the kiss he had stolen from her. They demanded more. His whole body did. But he was no thief.

"The night was great. Thank you." He said, not flinching his eyes away from her.
"You look beautiful."

Diana watched as his eyes wandered through her dress with no ceremonies. She felt him undressing her with his eyes.
The thought alone started a familiar fire within her flesh. The memory of his delicate touch and his soft lips pressed against hers were still very vivid.

"You always do."

He brought a hand to her hair, stroking it away from her face.

With every touch, Diana found herself struggling more and more. Where did all of that come from? Was this the same Michael she had known for all that time? If so, then why did she feel so intimidated?
This was not who she was. She wouldn't be so easily overpowered like that.
She stared at him almost defiantly, but the repressed desire she read in his eyes only served to make her even less determined to hold her ground.

"So do you." Her lips spilled before she could think.

Now it was her gaze that wandered on him. The tight button up shirt he wore beautifully defined his lean arms and chest. She could see a faintly pulsating vein on the side of his neck. She imagined what it would be like to untuck each and every one of the little black buttons, and the feel of her hands on his bare, warm caramel skin.

Feeling her eyes on him, Michael finally started to feel his normal self coming back to the scene. He grinned slightly, staring down at his feet, shying away from her gaze.

"Not really." He mumbled.

His whole body stiffened when he felt a light touch on his cheek. He raised to a different pair of eyes. They now contained a new element.