Lost in You by Sommer Marsden

and candy. It’s all … it’s like a time capsule,’ I squealed.
    Dorian grabbed my forearms and kissed me.
    ‘What was that for?’
    ‘You’re so happy,’ he whispered. ‘It’s contagious.’
    I nodded and let myself just stare at him. His strong jaw and bright eyes and very, very kissable mouth. He gave me a boyish half grin and I swore I could feel my lungs deflating from the impact of that smile.
    ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I … you –’ I shook my head and grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard.
    Every stroke of his tongue over mine made me warmer despite the invading damp from the storm. Every time he sucked gently on my tongue I felt a spike of heat fill my pussy. Every inch closer he moved as he kissed me greedily had me on the verge of just begging him to take me. Right then. Right there.
    I couldn’t do that, of course. He was still my boss, after all. Despite rabid attraction. Despite warm fuzzy feelings he somehow inspired.
    Finally I managed to pull back.
    He touched my hair. Wrapped two long strands around his fingers and tugged gently. ‘I like kissing you, Clover.’
    ‘I like that you like kissing me, Mr – Dorian.’
    ‘Reverting to mister after a kiss like that?’ He chuckled.
    I moved away from him fast. Better to get control of myself. ‘So what do you think? Isn’t it amazing?’
    ‘It is,’ Dorian said. He ran his fingers over old movie posters.
    I’d been in here many times during renovations. Often I slipped inside just to sit on the old velveteen couch and think in peace for a minute or two.
    ‘This movie was out in the Forties.’ He whistled and flipped past the poster to see what was next. ‘Fifties, Sixties. There’s some valuable stuff in here. Whoever’s been storing it could probably make a killing on eBay.’
    ‘Chuck has been running this projector for forty years, I think.’
    I walked to the small projector window and looked down into the theatre. Big well-padded seats that had been reupholstered to stay true to the original movie house. It was easy to look down and see men and women in period dress smoking cigarettes as the film played on. The original piano for the silent films was on the stage.
    Dorian moved up close behind me. I could feel his energy close to mine despite the fact that he wasn’t touching me. Not yet.
    He couldn’t see my face so he couldn’t see when I shut my eyes and willed him to touch me. I saw in the small reflection that he was moving to do just that. Reaching towards me. Then a boom sounded through the whole Rotunda, seeming to rattle the very floor beneath our feet. The lights went out and another boom echoed around us.
    Adrenalin flooded my body and I lunged towards him. Not thinking, just reacting. I grabbed him and he put his arms around me, smoothing my hair as the lights began a crazy flicker-on-flicker-off pattern.
    ‘It’s OK, Clover. Hey … it’s OK.’
    This was not the way I wanted to end up in his arms.
    After about three minutes of non-stop flickering, the lights stabilised. I looked up at him, waiting to feel sheepish or foolish. Neither came. It was too much work. All I could focus on was getting my heart-rate down to a non-lethal rhythm.
    Dorian walked me to the sofa and helped me sit. By the projector, under the makeshift desk that I was pretty sure was made of a salvaged door, was a dorm-room-sized fridge. Dorian opened it and brought me a cold soda.
    ‘Drink,’ he said. ‘A little bit of sugar will help. You’re as white as a sheet.’
    ‘My sheets are blue,’ I said, attempting a joke. He tried to smile but the concern on his face won over any other expression.
    He sat next to me, took my hand and turned it palm up. He began to rub my wrist softly but firmly, right at my pulse point. ‘My mother used to do this when I didn’t feel well. I have absolutely no idea if it actually works … or what it works for, but right now it’s making me feel useful. So I hope you don’t