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A beautiful, young Welsh nurse succumbs to temptation.

All Andrew saw was love and lust and anguish. He couldn't bear to be so close to her and look into her eyes like that, so he closed his: shutting her out. Then he felt her lips on his, just lightly, as if she was kissing him goodbye.

Having her mouth against his, the slight tackiness of her lip-gloss sticking to his lips, her breath hot against his face -- he crumbled. He wanted her so much and his strength of will was dissolved by her tender gesture in the face of rejection.

His arm went around her waist, his other hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. He opened his eyes to be confronted by her look of shock and the traces of tears in her eyes and then he pressed his mouth firmly against hers.

She tried to resist as he forced his tongue between her lips, but her heart wasn't in it and she opened her mouth, twining her tongue with his. She tasted of the cheap sour wine, the sweet artificial berry flavour of her lip-gloss and the faintest trace of mint from her toothpaste.

The kiss was passionate and extraordinary as only reunion kisses can be: all the lust and intensity of a first kiss, but with the intrinsic knowledge of how to kiss each other so that all desires were met.

Eventually the kiss drew to a close. Their bodies were pressed together and their arms encircled each other. Both of them were breathing heavily with the exertion of such kissing and the need to be together fully.

"I have a room booked here..." Andrew said tentatively, his voice husky.

"Ok." She said, meeting his look with a small smile.

Hurriedly they straightened their clothes, then stepped out of the shadowy alcove they'd been standing in and walked towards the foyer again.


The lift was spacious and dimly lit, with a mirror on the back wall. The two of them stood on opposite sides, leaning against the hip-height rail that ran round the walls, waiting for the three bulky men in dull grey suits to get out.

Even with the other people in the lift and nearly five feet of space between them, the sexual tension was palpable. Andrew leaned oh-so-casually, his right leg crossed in front of his left, his arms folded in front of him, just his fixed look and tense expression betraying him.

Eva was more transparent. Her arms stretched out to either side, her hands gripping onto the railing, making her knuckles whiten. The position she stood in thrust her torso forwards, highlighting the prominent curves of her breasts.

Her lower lip was caught up in her teeth as she bit it viciously and her cheeks were deeply flushed. She looked like some wanton figurehead, lush and ripe to be taken.

Both of them started when the lift went 'bing' as it reached their floor. Andrew quickly gathered himself and strode towards the door, standing there and holding it back while Eva recalled herself and slowly walked out; moving as if she was suspended in treacle.

Still in silence and maintaining a rigid distance of a couple of feet between them the couple walked to Andrew's room, went in, shut the door and stood stock still in the centre of the room facing one another like two stags about to lock antlers.

Seconds ticked past and still nothing happened -- it was as if neither wanted to make the first move lest they were rejected.

Cautiously Andrew reached up to his neck and pulled on one end of the bow-tie. It made a shushing noise as it slid past his collar, then came free with a snap. He threw it lightly into the space between them and she watched as it came to rest on the floor.

She looked back up at his face and smiled before casually lobbing her clutch bag towards the crumpled bow-tie.

I'll show you mine, if you show me yours was now the game being played.

Andrew shucked off his expensive dinner jacket and added it to the small pile in the centre, then Eva dropped in the slippery, silken shawl she had round her shoulde

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