A Year to Remember(72)

“Here. Allow me,” said Adam huskily, feeding me bites of succulent lamb with his fingers.

I managed to take a little nibble on his finger as well. “Bring your finger back. I missed something,” I teased. When the finger returned, I sucked it into my mouth, licking it clean.

“Mmm, that’s better,” I said, excited by the flash of need written on his face. His body shivered, and I laughed.

“Two can play at that game,” he stated wickedly, a gleam in his eyes. “I’m hungry, too, Sara. Feed me.”

I tore off a small piece of bread and used it to scoop some unidentifiable dish. As I lifted it to his mouth, his hand reached out and grabbed my wrist. He held it as he took a bite, gazing into my eyes as he swallowed. Then his tongue darted out to taste the tips of my fingers, before taking the middle three into the warm cavern of his mouth.

I moaned, unable to care about the forty people eating and dancing around us. My body burned for him, and I couldn’t wait to get back to the hotel. Adam must have contemplated the same notion because he held tighter to my wrist and pulled me to him for a kiss.

I entertained the idea of torturing him with lust and rose from the floor. I wickedly stood in front of him and tried to simulate the moves of the belly dancers. Immediately feeling silly, I stopped.

“Don’t stop, Sara. I like the way you dance,” he said, licking his lips and intensely watching me.

So I did. I must have done something right, because he quickly stood and grabbed me before I could protest. His lips claimed mine and I felt as if he wanted to possess me. He managed to push me backward until we no longer stood in the light.

Embraced by complete darkness, he lowered his head to nip at my nipple through my cotton shirt.

“Adam! Someone might see us!” I exclaimed, pushing his head away.

“We’ll be careful,” he whispered, returning his attentions to my lips.

Pressing his hard body against me, I felt his erection against my stomach. I was so turned on, I didn’t care any longer we could get caught.

Still kissing him, I used my hands to unbutton his jeans, shocked to discover he had gone commando.

“Forget to put something on tonight?” I giggled.

“Well, you know I was a Boy Scout.”

“What does that have to do with your lack of underwear?”

“Our motto was Be Prepared.”

I laughed and reached to grip him tightly, the way he liked it. He groaned and pulled up my skirt, discovering I hadn’t worn panties either.

“I wasn’t even a Boy Scout,” I whispered, anxious to feel him inside of me.

“Oh God, Sara.” I heard the crinkle of the condom wrapper.

“Hurry.”

“Put a leg around my waist.”

I couldn’t fathom how this would work, but I did what he asked. After placing my right leg around his waist, Adam used the wall behind him to support his weight and bent his knees to lower himself to the necessary height. In one thrust, he was deep inside of me.

He kissed me to silence my enthusiastic cries of pleasure as we raced to climax before anyone discovered us. It didn’t take long, both of us excited by making love under the stars to the music of Bedouin folk music. Satiated, we returned to our dinner and attempted to ignore the glances from our fellow travelers.

Thirsty, I took a sip of wine and noticed Adam gazing at me.



“What?” I asked, feeling slightly embarrassed under his gaze.

“I really love you. You know that, right?” he tenderly asked.

I nodded. “Yes, I know you love me. But ...”

“But what?” He took my hand.

“But you don’t love me enough,” I managed to say, choking on the words.

I longed for him to deny my words, but he remained silent. His lips moved slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he kept it to himself.

Still, our magical night under the stars would live on in my memory until the day I die.



We made our way through Israel, arriving in Jerusalem in time to celebrate the Sabbath. Before nightfall, we visited the Kotel, built in 20 B.C. and known in English as the Western Wall. After the destruction of the Second Temple by the Romans in 70 A.D., only this outer wall remained standing. Due to Jewish practices, the men and the women pray separately at the Wall. After a short prayer service, our tour guide told us the custom of writing a prayer for God and placing it in the cracks of the Wall.

Hannah grinned from ear to ear. “I know what I’m wishing for.” I couldn’t begin to guess what went through her mind.

Alison turned to me. “What are you wishing for?”

I should wish for world peace or the end of poverty. There was only one thing I wanted.

Adam.

Did I dare wish for something for myself or would God decline my desire because it’s selfish?