By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) by John Crandall Page B

felt like.  He
marveled that moment that no matter how rough and tough a woman was, she could
still have silky skin and lips so soft that it raised the hairs all over his
body.  So he slid his hand off her hip, around to her back and pulled her close
to him, chest to chest, and as Melissa threw her leg over his, they kissed. 
And they kissed more.  And longer, neither feeling the need to do anything
else; ever.  To spend eternity in that moment would have sufficed for each.
             Melissa enjoyed and flourished on his
attention and the way that he made her feel physically and emotionally.  It was
attention Melissa had longed for; attention from someone special, someone she
hoped she had found.  Or maybe, someone she wanted to pretend she had found,
desperately needing loved and cared for, hidden and protected from her past. 
             Dirk had been with few women, but enough
to know that Melissa was perhaps as inexperienced as he.  And unlike the others
whom he had loved, Melissa never asked him to do anything, she was happy just
being close to him.  The extent of her aggressiveness was to touch and kiss him
constantly, passionately, her femininity in that most personal moment so
contrasted her normally proud and unflinching nature that Dirk thought it funny. 
Though not a man of the world, Dirk’s half-a-dozen times with a woman had shown
him that Melissa derived her pleasure not from the flesh, but from something he
could not understand and had yet to experience:  her heart.  Where the women
Dirk had lain with lusted, Melissa loved:  her warmth as unexpected as it was
moving.
             When they had finished, each was embarrassed
and guilty, though neither knew why.  Maybe it was the spontaneous eruption of
that bout of lovemaking.  Maybe, to Melissa, she was afraid she had lost all
his respect by coming on so strong and clear.  To Dirk, sweet innocent Dirk,
there was the hope that he had not taken advantage of Melissa, but also the
worry that he had. 
             This non communication and subsequent
silence led the new lovers to believe that each was unhappy with the other, or
at least their performance.  Both dressed silently and went back to the Grizzly
Bar , though no mention of it had been made between them.  Both wanted to
remain together despite their embarrassment and they walked there side by side,
neither seeming to lead; neither seeming to follow. 
             Nearly an hour had passed before they
finally got around to discussing their act in broad generalities, hushed tones,
innuendoes and guilty looks.  “Well…what a night, huh?” Melissa murmured while
looking down the bar away from Dirk.
             “Yeah,” he replied.
             “I’ve enjoyed it,” she added.
             “Oh yeah,” he agreed, though not wanting
to sound as enthused as he had.  “I mean, it was enjoyable.  I…I like being
with you…I liked being with you…um…even more tonight. Not that I don’t like
being with you other nights…”
             “Yeah…I liked being with you tonight,
too.  As much as ever.”
             “Not more?” he asked, finally able to
look at her, noticing then for the first time as he studied her, Melissa still
looking away, the tiny hairs that he had made stand up upon her taut flesh when
he would gently stroke her.  She looked at him, her face worried for a moment. 
Then she smiled and nodded.
             “More,” she said, blushing for only a
moment before punching his arm.  “Gods, Dirk!  Lighten up.”  Just when he
thought the night had been imagined, Melissa back to her old all-work self, she
grinned, leaned in and kissed him briefly, heavily, before pulling away and
looking down at the bar.
             “Beer!” he called and the barman
delivered them drinks and they stayed together late into the night, their
bodies touching ever so closely, but touching almost