Sample start -The Rose Garden

This is an unedited sample of the next story I am working on. Consider this a rough draft for the setup. I will try to have the whole thing up in the next 48 hours. 

A slight breeze stirred the branches of distant trees as Caroline walked the garden path, head down in contemplation. I had been a long time since the party where she met Eric. A long time since she walked through this garden laughing and flirting. Even now she felt something stir inside to think of that moment that had come and gone so quickly. It was an instant of magic so sudden she hadn’t had time to think about what she was doing. Time had become meaningless, and all that mattered was the heat of that moment. He swept her away and she wanted nothing more than to drift in that current all night.

They arrived at a gazebo covered in climbing roses that sat on the bank of a tiny stream. Here they lingered to talk while she tossed rose petals into the passing water. A smile came to her lips to remember how he looked at her and the tension that was evident in his eyes. A moment was building and she was sure they both felt it. Alone in the garden a storm was brewing and soon the waters would begin to pour. She felt such a desire to have Eric that restraint had long since been abandoned. She was alive with need and ready to feed that desperate hunger.

There was a distant rumble of thunder as she sighed and looked to the sky. All that energy had gone to waste in the blink of an eye. Just as suddenly as the moment had come, he received a phone call that was urgent and he had to leave. Whatever was said clearly upset him and he hurried off with an apology for leaving her this way. She never did get his number or anything besides his first name.

She began to wonder what they had talked about for the few hours they spent together. It all seemed a blur with only snippets of conversation coming to mind. She was sure he had talked about himself but couldn’t recall what he had said. Had she been so lost in her need that words were meaningless? All she could remember for certain was the irresistible desire to make love to him.

That night was only a memory now, one that played in her mind often. She felt ashamed of how often she dreamed of what might have been. She did her best to push the thoughts from her mind, but somehow they always remained. Lost in the back of her subconsciousness they hid and waited until her guard was down. She would be busy with her day that night far from her mind only to wake up and realize she had been dwelling on it for hours. She would be back in that gazebo staring into his eyes wondering what might have been.

That was months ago and this was the first time she had been able to return to the estate. Now she walked the same path they had that night and allowed her mind to wander freely. She traced their path through garden, leaving the house well behind as she approached the hedge wall. It was here the relative flat of the laws gave way to the flower gardens beyond. Even now she could smell the faint traces of roses, sweet and subtle, drifting on the breeze. She arrived at the endless wall of green that towered over head. Its surface was penetrated by a single iron gate like the door of some druidic castle wall.

The gate groaned as she pushed it open and passed throug the green archway into the world beyond. Here the breeze was slightly stronger, blowing unhindered by the wall that protected the yard. It flowed across her skin in gentle caresses as it swept across a vast expanse of colorful gardens. Here the ridged forms of squares and rectangles were abandoned in favor of winding paths through blankets of flowers. They grew in great beds laid out in colorful patterns that swayed and danced in the breeze.

The inner yard had straight lines made of brick to walk through the lawns. Here the path was made of natural stone with moss filling the gaps. It wound its way through the beds, twisting around gentle hills and the occasional copse of trees. Everything in the flower garden seemed soft and gentle full of curves and slopes. It would take her several minutes to wind her way around the hills of color until finally descending a gentle slope as the garden approached a stream. It was here, on the far edge of the gardens that the gazebo could be found.  It was a secluded space, hidden beyond the lawn, the hedge wall, and the ocean of flowers. It was an island of isolation tucked away where only the most intrepid of explorers would find. It was built directly on the shores of a shallow stream so that one side hung over the water. With a sigh of longing she looked ahead eager to see the hidden structure. It was the place her mind liked to visit when she lost control and it began to wander.

She took a deep inhale and smiled a the sweet scent of roses mixed with a hint of water.  It was the unmistakable scent of distant rain, hinting at a storm in the distance. It was just like that night as she walked in the garden with him, the storm echoing her desire as they both grew in intensity.

Artwork abounded, hidden in the beds of flowers awaiting discovery by those who dared to wander the twisting paths. Large stone planters shaped liked urns dotted the landscape as well. These were planted with flowers that cascaded down their sides in ropes of green. They invited those who passed by to reach out and touch the silky petals of their delicate flowers.

Around a small cluster of flowering trees the trail began to descend down the slope revealing the destination of her long journey. She could just see it, the rose drenched building where he left her standing alone with a consuming fire burning inside.

Even now she wondered about that intoxicating night. He seemed to flood her senses with his presence overwhelming that which was herself. In a moment all her reservations fell away and a left need to surrender. She wanted to offer up all that she was to him as a gift of feminine power.

What had come over her that broke through all the barriers and bore down on her soul? All he had done was smile, share a drink, and offer some polite converstion. Maybe it was the fact that he smiled every time he looked at her. Maybe it was because his body language radiated strength and confidence yet his manner was gentle and polite. Maybe, he was simply the first man she had ever met worthy of the gift.

Finally the gazebo was in full view, its latticework completely overgrown with climbing roses. There were four distinct panels and each was grown with a different color, from vibrant yellow to deep brooding red. They blanketed the structure so that it was lost to the garden, just another bed of flowers at the edge of the stream. Her heart began to beat faster as her memories replayed this moment from before. Here had been the prefect place to share her gift, an isolated oasis of scent and color.

Stepping closer her eyes began to search for something that tickled at the back of her mind. Something was out of place, and as she neared the steps it was readily apparent. The steps were completely covered in red and pink rose petals so that the wood beneath was nearly completely hidden. Inside a circular futon had been placed in the center and drenched deeply in rose petals that spilled over the sides like drifting snow. So thick were the waves of petals that she could not see the futons actual color.

She paused in the doorway, drinking deeply of the lovely scent as she tried to make sense of it. This hadn’t been here that magical night, but she wished it had. She began to dream about what might have happened on this bed of petals as it became the sight of their passion. She waded ankle deep into the carpet of silk, hungry to sit on bed and imagine what it might have been like.

“I hope you are pleased,” a familiar voice called drawing her out of the dream. She whirled around to see the tall form standing in the doorway behind her, that alluring smile on his face.

“Eric?” she breathed in whisper that barely escaped her trembling lips.

There he was, the terrible desire of her dreams as if that night had never ended. He folded his arms and leaned against the post, his eyes alighting on her as he smiled slightly wider. She felt her knees going weak as they melted under that gaze. The fire lit so long ago suddenly roaring back to life and demanding she make the offering she had intended. She had to clear her throat to strengthen her voice, but found it impossible to speak as he stepped into the gazebo and began to approach.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said as he drew nearer, his power growing with every step. “I have never felt so attracted to a woman before. I can’t help but feel we didn’t finish what we started.”

Her skin exploded into goosebumps as he reached out and cradled her hand in his. His thumb traced a gentle circle over her skin and the fire inside flared to new heights.

“I needed to see you again, and I wanted to make sure when I did that it was a moment we both would never forget,” he said as he arrived directly before her and looked down into her eyes.

She trembled at his touch as her mind strugled to grasp if this was real or fantasy. After all the long hours fantasizing about him, had she slipped into her dream and become lost? Could he really be here? Was it possible that dream was about to come true?

Those thoughts exploded into a thousand tiny fragments as a kiss brushed her lips. Her eyes closed of their own volition as her body went limp under his touch. A moment later she moaned and began to return the kiss with a desperate intensity, the fire could be contained no longer. When he pulled away she wanted to faint but his arms now held her up as he whispered in her ear.

“I did this for you. I hoped it would show how you made me feel that night, and show just how much I wanted to love you.”

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, dancing from dream to dream in a moment of magic she never thought possible. He was here, the man she so deeply hungered for and more so he had come in all the power of his magic. He had built her a bed or roses in the secluded island where their passion had been interrupted, and now he wanted to feed that passion. She glanced to the bed and gasped to think of what he meant to do to her and then blushed to realize how badly she hoped he would.

Firm hands rolled up her arms and crested her shoulders. His eyes looked deep into her own as that smile graced his face and melted her resolve. She couldn’t speak beyond wetting her lips, and trembled in his grasp. Were it not for his firm hands she was sure she would fall over, as the magic of this moment stirred to even greater heights.

“Shhh,” he said, putting a finger to her lips. “Just answer me one question.” His eyes focused more intently on hers as if he was looking through her, and into her soul. What he was about to say was important and he wanted to make sure he saw every aspect of her answer. Slowly he leaned in until she could feel his breath tickle her ear. When he spoke it tore deep into her being, the words fusing with her  power.

“May I make love to you in the bed of roses I have prepared for us?”

She trembled as a slight gasp escaped her lips. Did he just ask for permission to make love to her? Her mind couldn’t register the concept as she struggled to think of how to answer. Why would he ask for permission? Wasn’t it just supposed to happen? A thousand thoughts passed in the blink of an eye and yet she had made her decision months ago. She knew what she wanted but couldn’t believe she was about to get it. With closed eyes, she tipped her head, unable to hold his gaze. She felt her heart racing as her cheeks flushed deep as the roses that made up her bed.

She said yes and her hands tensed in nervousness. Somehow telling him he had permission felt like a bigger surrender than simply offering her gift. Now he was free to lay her on his alter and worship the goddess of love and roses.