Gemotions

"No dog, Daniel. Absolutely not," Emily stated, her voice firm, but her cheeks betrayed her. He was across the room, but the air felt thin, electric. The thought of her in his bed, tangled in the sheets, a warm body pressed against his, sent shivers through his muscles. He ran a hand through his hair, the simple act feeling like an explosion.

He feigned indifference, leaning back against the worn sofa, but he couldn't stop the rapid beat of his heart. "They're great companions. Good for walks." The words were almost a groan. He wanted to stop talking, to cross the room and take her in his arms.

He watched her, trying to read her expression, but her face was unreadable. Her eyes, usually so bright, were clouded with something he couldn't name. He could feel a pressure building in his lower body. He wanted to taste her. To feel her skin against his. The argument about the dog had become a distant memory. He needed her. Now.

He pushed off the sofa, a move that felt deliberate. He started to walk toward her, each step a carefully measured measure. He was surprised the argument hadn't turned into a physical thing between them before.