The Proverbial War

Shakily I got up and brushed the sand off my clothes that had dried. Colt reappeared and I couldn't meet his gaze. A finger brought my chin up and it was a surprise to see him smiling.

"You're beautiful Kim."

His eyes were alive with repressed passion that I felt seared by, but his next words were my undoing.

"You're worth waiting for Kim."

He turned from me to pick up the scroll and his pack and then surprisingly he pulled me close in to his side and we started off walking down the beach. His hand slipped slightly down from my waist to lay on my rear. His hand squeezed and my eyes shut.

I should pull away.

His arm half around me wasn't constricting me in any way other than the weight of his hand on my rear. I really should pull away.

I tried to work myself up into a passionate outburst of protest against such a domineering handling of my person, but it wasn't to be found.

His touch was such that it said he owned what he touched. I really should be mad about this, but I wasn't. There was a simple truth I just couldn't get past. I liked his touch and I didn't want it to go away.

His touch was domineering, lustful, and a complete invasion of personal space but I, for lack of a better way of putting it, was his. He was my protector and provider. I had tried it on my own and that hadn't gone well and thus by choice I was staying within the reach of his arm.

I was still shocked that he'd pulled back as he had earlier. What was he trying to prove to me?

I glanced upward to see that he was already looking down at me.

"If I asked you to let go, would you?"

He nodded and I looked forward again.

"Was that a request?" He asked softly and for emphasis he squeezed again.

I didn't answer him and we both continued walking on. It was enough for now that I could trust him.

*****

"Do you like me?"

His sudden question was a surprise. I glanced down at where we were holding hands. I'm not sure when that had occurred in our walk along the beach, but his hand had at some point slipped down to capture mine.

I looked ahead and said, "Maybe."

His next question was yet another surprise.

"If fate hadn't intervened and landed us here together like this would you have ever had anything to do with a guy like me?"

There was such a hopeful, even mournful quality to his voice that I found myself not wanting to hurt him, but there was no other way about it.