The city lights continued their relentless twinkle outside the floor to ceiling windows, but inside the penthouse, the world had narrowed to the two of them. The air was thick with the scent of sex, expensive whiskey, and the faint, lingering aroma of her perfume. Patrick lay on his back, his chest still heaving, the sweat cooling on his skin. Kathy was draped across him, her head resting on his shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy patterns through the dark hair on his chest.

For twenty years, he had imagined what it would be like to have her like this. He had pictured it a thousand different ways. Sometimes it was slow and tender, a soft exploration of two souls finally finding their way home. Other times, it was a frantic, desperate collision in a dark hallway, all teeth and nails and pent up frustration. But the reality of it, the sheer, mind blowing reality of feeling her naked body pressed against his, was beyond anything his imagination could have conjured.