One Single Rose

WARNING:

This post contains explicit scenes which may not be suitable for readers under 18.

A SINGLE ROSE OF LOVE

A Single rose of love
A Single rose of devotion
A Single wish upon my lips
A Single thought of you
A Single desire to be granted
A Single moment of careless bliss
A Single love never to be broken
A Single rose for one last kiss.

- Stephen Kreska

 

 

The air was crisp and sweet with spring fragrance. There was a brief shower this morning. In the garden roses were abloom in haphazard splendor. Peonies vied with pansies and zinnias in a riot of colors. Dew-kissed petals unfurled in the morning light, sending out perfumed invitations. The sun burst through its fluffy veil and sunlight filtered through the clouds like gold gossamer threads. The leaves fluttered in the gentle breeze. The birds perched on branches chirped in melodious voices like a church choir on Sunday mornings. The world was alive. But Cole, blissfully inebriated, did not notice. With the drapes closed, no sunlight had entered his room since a day ago. The stale and shabby air hung in the closed room old and sullen; the darkness that enveloped it cloying as heady liquor. Sprawled on his tousled bed, he was oblivious - oblivious to the empty beer bottles lying around; oblivious to the cigarette butts peppering the floor. He lay there in drunken stupor, disheveled clothes and all.

"My luv is a red, red rose," he thought. "Just one rose then I'll be gone." Once again, Drew glanced at the closed draperies of the room above, praying that no one would open it. He knew the owner of the place. Knew too that he disliked strangers traipsing his backdoor. Too bad! Drew chuckled. The man was quite good-looking but hot-tempered. They had crossed paths before and he could not the stand the high-handedness of the man. The man had caught him once and he shivered as memories flashed in his brains. Taken that the man was drunk at the time, but kiss him? Until now, he could still feel his lips on his. Until now, he could still feel the man's mouth slanted over his again and again while his tongue rubbed with his in an intimate love play. Until now he could not wipe the kiss from his memories. Until now he did not know why. Stealthily he climbed the overhanging branch, jumped over the fence and..."Aarrgh!"

Cole opened eyes still bleary with sleep and blood-shot eyes raked the room, absently noticing its state. Shit! He should stop these senseless drinking. It changed nothing. Just gave him massive hangovers. His head throbbed like a war drum; felt like it was wreathed in thorns. A person could only consume too much alcohol. He needed coffee. Ugh! His patrician nose crinkled in disgust, as he smelled himself. But first, he needed to get out of the stinking clothes. A hot shower is definitely in order. And clean up the stinking mess. His room looked and smelled no better than the Phrygian stables. Muttering unintelligible words, he clumsily walked into the bathroom, jerked his clothes off and tossed them aside in a careless heap.

Cole closed his eyes as the warm water hit him. He braced himself on the tiled wall of the shower wall and let the warm water cascade over his aching muscles. The heated water soothed and relaxed the tension out of his water-slicked body. He sighed deeply as he felt the knots slowly eased out of his shoulders and back. Unbidden, thoughts of soft intoxicating lips flooded his mind. He remembered its heady taste. The feel of rippling muscles under his fingers. He shook his head and opened his eyes suddenly. Why? He could not understand what drove him to do it. He was drunk yes, but it was no excuse. Decidedly putting the memory at the back of his mind, he poured some shampoo on his hands and massaged his aching head. He soaped his muscular chest and worked the lather down his well-muscled torso and legs. He let the warm spray from the showerhead rinse the soapsuds from his body and watched as the bubbly lather swirled down the drain, trying to take his mind off emerald eyes blazing with desire. Or those sinewy legs wrapped around his waist. The sinuous body writhed under him. His muscles started tensing again at a different place. He immediately turned the water into cold and sputtered as the cold water blasted him. That should do it! After rinsing himself, he stepped out of the shower stall feeling a little better. Cole hummed as he toweled himself briskly.

Standing in front of the mirror, Cole looked at himself. And smirked. Except for a two-day growth of beard, he looked good. A lean and hard athletic body at a height of 6' 2". Beautiful gray eyes. Raven black hair. Disarming smile. He looked good and knew he could turn more than a few heads. Could do more than turn heads. So why was it that he felt dissatisfied? Dissatisfied with those games he used to play with relish. Dissatisfied with those senseless one-night stands that left him feeling more discontented than before. Dissatisfied even with those drinking bouts. Dissatisfaction prowled within his soul like a caged beast. He was dissatisfied, yes. Except for the taste of those luscious lips. Except for the look of those impassioned eyes. Why was it that he's haunted by thoughts of a green-eyed monster? Haunted by eyes as soft as sea rapt with desire. Even in his intoxication, lips as sweet as a rose taunted him. Could it be that...? The sound of a fallen branch interrupted his thoughts. Then a burning expletive. "Whoever this guy is, sure have a colorful language," he thought as he peeped through the window. And frowned. What was that scamp doing in his garden?

"Drat! That hurts!" Drew swore as he removed the fallen branch from his foot. He tried to stand and whimpered when he accidentally stepped his injured foot. "Just my luck!" he thought as a frown creased his forehead. "Now what am I gonna do?"

Cole hastily donned shorts and went down the stairs to the garden. "What are you -" his voice trailed off as he saw Drew limping.

"I jumped over the fence." Drew tried to sound casual but the clenching and unclenching fist at his sides belied his tone. Damn! But his ankle's beginning to throb painfully. "Now, may I go?" The pain was becoming unbearable. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. Dazzling eyes framed by thick lush lashes. Eyes that spewed green fire. Defiant even in pain. Drew tried to limp away. He did not want to show this man any weakness. He could do without his pity.

"No, I -" Cole stopped himself. For the first time he was unsure of himself.

"What?" Drew gritted out, head tiled in a stubborn angle.

I want you to stay, Cole thought. His eyes roamed over Drew. The slender yet athletic body. Perfectly sculpted muscles. The bulge covered by jeans that had seen better days. Covered, hah! The tattered clothes the man wore showed more than what it was supposed to hide. And it wreaked havoc in Cole's libido. He was attracted to the man, yes. Who wouldn't? Dark hair the color of midnight fell in helpless disarray over his brows. Sullen heavy-lidded eyes that mocked and teased. And the mouth that haunted his dreams. Full pouty mouth that invited a kiss almost as a demand. It took all Cole's control not to kiss those lips and savor its heady taste again.

Drew stood there transfixed, pain momentarily forgotten, unable to move under Cole's piercing gaze. He was riveted by the gleam in those eyes. Held hostage by the power the man exuded. Damn! The man's handsome. In the dappled light, he seemed more handsome than ever. Tall. Gleaming muscles that rippled bronze and gold as he moved. Perfectly proportioned from his broad shoulders that tapered to his narrow waist and practically no hips at all. His body is the body for a man to have. Drew wondered what would it feel to entangle his fingers through the matted hair so fair as though bleached by the sun that swirled across his chest and narrowed down to a fine little whorl at his navel. Or licked the waters that gleamed silver on his hair. Drew licked his lips unconsciously and stepped forward mesmerized but the pain that shot through him brought him back to his senses. He gasped in pain.

Cole saw Drew licked his lips and white-hot desire coursed through his body almost consuming him. He stepped forward in trance but recovered his wits when he heard Drew gasped. He was instantly beside him. "Let me have a look at it. It seemed swollen," he said as he kneeled to examine Drew's ankle. "Can you still walked?" he asked standing up. It looked bad. "It needs to be treated. I have some ointment in my house. It may help ease the pain." Drew just nodded and limped after Cole towards the house. And stumbled.

"Ouch!" Drew shouted in pain.

"Are you okay?" Cole asked as he helped Drew.

Heat sizzled his skin from where Cole touched it and Drew recoiled as if burnt. "I'll be fine," he growled. The man had only touched him and he's ready to blow like an overheated fuse. Drew was confused by the strong desire the man roused in him. He never felt like this before and felt inept to deal with these emotions. He frowned.

The touch sent hot spirals into his groin and Cole inhaled a shaken breath. "It looks like hell," he countered ignoring Drew's frown. Without warning he carried Drew up the path and into the house. All the while aware of the searing flame that started to ignite in his loins. The shorts he wore suddenly seemed a size too small. Behave, he chided himself. Stop acting like a hormone-charged adolescent. You're twenty-six years old, for God's sake! Not an oversexed teenager. "Wait here," he told Drew as he deposited him on the divan. Cole went to the kitchen and rummaged in the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit. When he found it, he returned to the living room, pulled a stool and positioned himself in front of Drew.

"I'll do it," Drew offered feeling uncomfortable.

"It looks like you sprained it," he said ignoring Drew. He pulled Drew's foot over his thighs. Drew squirmed. He smiled.

"Aaww!" Drew shouted and tried to jerk his foot away.

"What?" Cole asked. "I haven't touched it yet -"

"I'm ticklish," Drew snapped.

"You didn't tell me babe," he said teasingly. "Come on, I'll be gentle." He put Drew's foot back and started to gently massage the swollen foot. "Feeling better?" he asked. Wicked thoughts involving Drew lying in his bed in dishabille whirled in his mind.

"Yeah," sighed Drew. "The pain's bearable now." Drew closed her eyes and lost himself on the sensation. The callused hands were soothing; the cold balm giving him relief. Cole was good at this. He must have done this a thousand times. Drew could imagine those hands roaming all over his body; those rough velvety hands grazing his skin, teasing him, igniting his fire. Here, here, here. Drew snapped his eyes open. Warmth flooded his cheeks. He shook his head at his thoughts. Then his eyes met Cole's and saw desire mirrored there. It glittered in the silver orbs. It pulsed, making his gray eyes darken with passion. He inhaled sharply as Cole's touch became a caress. Cole's nose flared and he abruptly stopped. He carefully wrapped gauze around Drew's swollen ankle.

"That should do it," he announced in a voice husky with barely leashed passion. His eyes never leaving Drew's.

"Why?" Drew asked in a breathless whisper. His throat had suddenly gone dry. He tried to catch the thoughts flitting in his mind. Without answering Cole tilted his head towards Drew, and then he kissed him. Cole paused for a moment, the corners of his mouth twitching as though he was searching for the right words. "Because I love you," he said quietly. The room seemed to spin; Drew's mind was too cloudy to think straight. He loves me? And then he could not think at all as Carey's mouth claimed his in a searing kiss. In that instant, the universe seemed to coalesce and collapse around them. Then expanded - passed the planets, passed the stars, passed the galaxies - into eternity.