Surrender

It was supposed to be a one and done. It had been nice with him, Cleo knew his name because he had given her his card and it burned her fingers every time she touched it—because she remembered touching him. It was a souvenir in a way, like serial killers kept something of their victims, but of course this was not as sordid as that.

He was just a man she had had a one night stand with and that was that. But when she saw the jacket, and she saw the whisper of a tattoo that she knew. The line of a Pablo Neruda poem she had looked up because she had memorized that line after being in bed with him…she knew it was him.

To be honest, every time she saw a tattoo now she thought of him. Or maybe she wanted him again, she was being honest to herself now and this was not the pristine version for public consumption.

She wanted him.

She clutched her purse, and was about to get up. He would think she was a lady of leisure or something because he always found her sitting at a bar in the middle of the day. It was a habit that she had now to drink a glass of wine if she was so inclined in the middle of the afternoon like she had had with him. He had changed her, Cleo had to admit he had changed her. He had changed how she looked at things, and how she acted.

When he saw her, his expression was calm. No lift of the eyebrow, or quirk of his lips. He walked over to her, and took her hand.

Before he could say a word, before he could direct this narrative, Cleo took a sip of her wine and kissed him. Now she felt he was not expressionless, as he pulled her close. He kissed her and caressed her face, sucking on her lower lip as he cupped her breast.

“I missed you,” she said, biting her lower lip. 

“I gave you my card.”

“I was afraid.”

As soon as she said it, she realized she had been. She was not his type. The woman that he was trying to exorcise himself of was nothing like her. 

“Afraid that I would split you open?”

“I want that…”

He smiled, and she could see more of his tattoo as he did.

“I want you.”

Surrender had never been so sweet, as she finished the wine—one he had suggested in their first and only meeting—and followed him.

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