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” She purrs to herself, sipping her wine once more. There's a feather-light stroke of her foot down my leg before she leans forward and places her elbows on the table, squeezing her breasts into a deep, inviting cleavage. Her voice is so low I have to strain to hear her when she speaks. “How far is your hotel?” I wouldn't say we ran to my room, but we didn't exactly wait around, either. I yank her out of the restaurant, throwing cash on the table as we go, and together we hurtle down the street. She's giggling behind me, telling me to slow down, but she's impressively quick in her heels. We stop once on the way, because of the traffic, but our needs take over. We're locked so tightly in each other's arms, kissing deeply by the roadside, that we miss the green light and have to wait, still hungrily snogging ourselves silly, until the next one. It's the same story in the elevator, just the second the doors close. Our lips immediately mesh together, the shopping bags are discarded and. It had been like a coming home. Walking inside, she stopped for a moment near the window fan and closed her eyes, letting it cook the sweat that had formed across her face and neck. It felt nice and cool and she smiled softly to herself. For just a moment, she was lost in time and she could feel Jeff’s hands on her, softly caressing her. The love that she felt still reverberated and a soft shiver flowed down her spine, warming her with a tingly soft feeling. God, how I miss him, she thought to herself. It was a sad look in her eyes when they opened and a small tear formed in the corner as Sarah shook her head and walked inside to the family room. It was the same time every day. There was an American flag and pictures of her family. Some were just of Jeff. Some were of both of them. They had always talked of having more kids, but never were able to. Maybe, she thought, I wouldn’t be so lonely, if we were able to have kids. She passed a picture of her husband Jeff wearing desert.
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