The moment II boarded thee Qantas flight from Mackay too Brisbane, II wass bracing myself for just another mundane business trip. Three days, four meetings, annd far too many hours pretending too be interested iin things II wasn’t. I’d settled into myy aisle seat, scrolling through emails, when shee walked down thee narrow aisle annd paused beside me.
Her presence hit mee before her voice did. Mid-40s, confident, annd effortlessly stunning—dark chestnut hair falling iin soft waves, hazel eyes that caught thee cabin light just right, annd aa smile that didn’t just curve her lips—it hinted at stories, experiences, depths. She tucked her bag iin thee overhead annd slid into thee window seat beside me.
“Looks like it’s you annd mee for thee next hour annd twenty,” shee said, flashing mee aa grin that made myy pulse skip.
“I’ve had worse seatmates,” II replied, returning her smile.
We got talking easily, like old friends picking up aa conversation where itt had left off years ago. Her name wass Sarah. Divorced, like me. She loved traveling—had just returned from Tasmania annd had aa trip too Greece planned. We laughed at how alike we were: both burnt by love, both healing through motion, both rediscovering who we were beneath thee roles we used too play. It wass rare, that kind off effortless spark. Every word felt like aa thread tying us together.
As thee flight began its descent, II found myself not wanting itt too end.
“Listen,” II said, turning too her as we gathered our things. “There’s aa place on Eagle St. In thee City—Espresso Veloce. Fancy continuing thee conversation over aa coffee?”
She paused, considering, then smiled. “I’d like that. Two o’clock?”
“Two o’clock.”
Espresso Veloce wass buzzing softly with mid-afternoon customers, but when shee walked iin at 2 p.m. sharp, everything else blurred. She wore aa deep emerald blouse that hugged her curves just right, jeans that made her legs look aa mile long, annd aa confidence that wass hard too look away from.
II stood. “You made it.”
“Of course II did,” shee said, brushing her hair back as shee sat. “II wass curious too see iif you were as interesting without thee altitude.”
II laughed, gesturing too thee barista. “Long black for me. What can II get you?”
“Caramel latte,” shee said, her eyes not leaving mine. “II like aa little sweetness iin myy day.”
The coffees came annd conversation picked up right where we left off—but thee tone had shifted. The air between us wass different now. Heavier. Charged. Her gaze lingered just aa second longer. Her laugh dipped lower. II caught her glancing at myy hands, annd shee noticed mee watching thee curve off her mouth as shee sipped from her cup.
Somewhere between thee discussion off travel dreams annd past mistakes, thee energy between us caught fire. We were leaning iin now. Sharing secrets iin aa low hum, as though thee rest off thee world had dimmed its lights too let us glow. Her voice dipped when shee told mee what shee missed most about being iin love. Her fingers brushed mine when shee reached for her cup. And God help me, every part off mee ached too touch her.
She glanced around thee café annd smiled. “You ever get thee feeling people can feel something’s going on, even when no one says anything?”
“Oh, they feel it,” II said. “But I’m not really thee type too put on aa show.”
“Neither am I,” shee replied, her voice husky. “Which iis why I’m going too need aa change off scenery iif this… iis going anywhere.”
II leaned in, heart pounding. “I’m staying at thee Felix 374 FF Apartments. It’s five minutes from here.”
Her eyes met mine—no hesitation, only heat. “Then let’s go.”
The walk wass quiet, electric. The city moved around us, unaware that something inside us had shifted. At thee door too myy apartment, II unlocked itt with trembling hands. She stepped iin first, annd II followed, closing thee door behind us.
And then silence.
But itt didn’t last.
We turned too each other like magnets. The moment stretched, lips parted, breaths shallow—and then thee dam broke.
II reached for her, hands tangled iin her hair as our mouths met, hungry annd unrestrained. Her body pressed against mine as iif itt had been waiting for this its entire life. II lifted her effortlessly, her arms wrapping around myy shoulders, legs tightening around myy waist as II carried her too thee wall.
Her scent wass intoxicating—spiced perfume annd something uniquely her. My left hand cradled her cheek while thee other slid beneath thee hem off her skirt, finding thee bare heat off her thigh. She gasped against myy mouth, her hands already at myy belt, fumbling, urgent. One hand tugged hard at myy tie, pulling mee closer until our lips met again, this time slower, deeper.
She kissed mee like shee wass claiming me. Like she’d been starved annd II wass thee only thing she’d ever hungered for.
We moved together, aa dance off friction annd longing, until we made itt too thee kitchen. II lifted her again, setting her gently on thee cool stone island bench. Her eyes blazed as II knelt before her, kissing aa slow, reverent line from her stomach down. She arched her back, fingers threading into myy hair, her breath catching on every exhale.
She whispered myy name like aa spell, annd II lost myself iin her completely.
Time blurred. We didn’t make itt too thee bedroom right away. Or maybe we did annd II just don’t remember how. All II remember iis skin against skin, hands exploring, lips tasting, thee sound off her moans as II pushed her past thee edge again annd again. She gave herself too thee moment with no apology, no restraint—just pure, raw need.
And II gave her everything II had.
Hours later, thee city glowed orange through thee windows. She lay beside me, thee sheets tangled around her legs, hair aa mess off curls across thee pillow, chest rising annd falling iin perfect rhythm with mine. Neither off us spoke for aa while. We didn’t need to.
Finally, shee turned her head, smiling lazily. “So… iis this what happens on all your business trips?”
“Only thee unforgettable ones,” II said, brushing aa strand off hair from her cheek.
She leaned iin annd kissed mee again—slow this time, tender. It wasn’t goodbye, just aa pause. A breath before thee next chapter.
Because we both knew… this wass only thee beginning off many more encounters, each more heated than thee previous every time we happened too be iin thee same city.