Come Away with Me: A Sweet Romance

dewey

Proud Member
Joined
Apr 24, 2011
Messages
1,885
Points
0
Location
Florida
Come away with me in the night
Come away with me
And I will write you a song

Come away with me on a bus
Come away where they can't tempt us
With their lies

I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee-high
So won't you try to come

Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you

And I want to wake up with the rain
Falling on a tin roof
While I'm safe there in your arms
So all I ask is for you
To come away with me in the night
Come away with me

Norah Jones

gyPtyu.png


She opened the door slowly, her belly full of butterflies. She soaked him in, standing there with a single red rose. He wore an untucked white, button-down shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows, black jeans, and black boots. His gorgeous smile melted her fluttering heart.

He told her they would go the beach today, a sweltering hot, late August day in Florida, but being almost early evening, she thought he was too busy to get away for his birthday. His eyes searched hers, and he softly asked, Do you want to come away with me? He handed her the rose and she nodded, so utterly thrilled that he remembered their date. She put the soft petals of the rose against her nose and smelled gently, smiling, placing the flower on the hall table just inside the doorway, before taking his hand and closing the door behind her.

He led her toward the driveway, stopping beside a sparkly Harley-Davidson Sportster 1200. She stared at him, mouth agape, pleasantly surprised by the motorcycle.

This is yours? she asked, excitement racing through her.

Mmmhmm. You ever ride before?

No, but I see there's room for two, she said.

He rummaged in a compartment at the back of the bike and took out a white helmet. She slipped it over her head and he helped to adjust the chin strap, his fingers lightly brushing her chin as he fastened it. Their faces were so close together, he could have kissed her right then and there, but he just smiled at her. She looked in one of the mirrors on each side of the Harley and laughed at her bulbous head as he put on his black helmet.

I look like a creature from Star Trek! she exclaimed, mugging for him.

The helmet is a most important safety feature, he said, winking. You’re so pretty. You know that, don’t you?

She smiled, utterly enthralled by him. She wore black suede boots, flared jeans, and a green tunic top that fluttered in the hot breeze. The small rhinestones sprinkled along the bodice twinkled in the sunlight. Her long dark hair spilled from beneath the helmet, reminding her of the ordinary mom who turned into a motorcycle babe in that comic strip, Rose is Rose.

He swung his long leg over the bike and settled in the driver's seat. Your turn baby, he said, turning his head to look at her. She put her hand on his shoulder, sliding in behind him, her thighs aligning next to his, holding him to her on that gorgeous iron pony.

Feet up on the pegs, right? he asked. Put your arms around my waist. We're almost ready and I don't want you to fall off.

She immediately wrapped my arms around him, entwining her fingers against his flat stomach. She moved in closely against his back and said, OK, I'm ready, inhaling the clean scent of his shirt, his incredible fragrance, watching the wind play with the curls around the collar of his shirt.

Here we go! he said. He held the bike upright, booting back the kickstand and pushing a button to bring the Harley to life. It roared in response, suddenly moving forward with surprising power. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek against his back, holding on tightly. They moved along effortlessly through a myriad of sun drenched avenues and boulevards where she learned to sync her movements with his as he made turns toward the wide expanse of A1A, a stretch of highway winding through Florida's east coast beaches that traveled right beside the majestic Atlantic Ocean. The humid wind flowed over them, a pleasant sensation coupled with the cooler ocean breeze. Her cheek was still pressed against his back, arms around his waist, but her eyes were wide open, taking in the breathtaking view of the waves crashing against the shore and seagulls flying in the distance.

You ok back there? I'm having a great time, he laughed.

She simply nodded her head, knowing he felt the movement against his back. They could have driven all the way up I-95 to the tip of Maine that way with no objections from her whatsoever. The motor hummed strongly underneath as they rolled steadily along. She was wrapped around a man who had captured her heart completely. The spell had been firmly cast when he asked her simply and softly, “Come away with me for my birthday.”

After about an hour, they were in Volusia County, famous for Daytona Beach, but traveled farther north to the entrance of Smyrna Dunes Beach. The bike rumbled over white sands until he stopped and turned off the Harley near the mile long boardwalk winding toward the shore line in the distance. The quietness was surprising after the constant hum of the motorcycle. He got off the bike, securing the kickstand first, and turned around to say something, but stopped short when he saw her face.

What is it, baby girl? he asked, reaching to help her with the helmet. You okay? Did you like it?

Obviously, she looked as smitten as she felt, she thought, embarrassed. Oh yes, it was amazing, she said softly, letting him take the helmet off, loving how he touched and smoothed her hair away from her face. The pinks and oranges of the quickly setting sun framed his silhouette in glowing light. He slowly lowered his head toward her face, kissing her sweetly, lingering, smiling tenderly.

Come away with me, he whispered, and I'll never stop loving you.


AdETh4.jpg
 
That was beautiful, Dewey :clapping:
Hmmm, I'll sleep good tonite with that image :blush:

Thanks for sharing:D
 
Nice story Dewster :) There was even a Freudian slip somewhere in the middle :p

The Norah Jones song is awesome btw. Sunrise and What am I to you are my other favorites from her. Michael's pictures aren't all that bad either :cheeky:


Interesting section of the site, what can I say? Keep the imagination and the creativity goin' everyone; they are for free and they don't harm anyone, right?
 
:blush:

I'm glad you like it, Girl. I have others, but... I think they're not acceptable for public consumption and this one is...innocently romantic. :laugh:
 
I really liked it too Dewey. I like romantic.
(Caught that Freudian slip too. Made it even sweeter. :). )
 
Awww, thanks barbee. Just a Michael daydream I wrote down one day. And the Norah Jones song is lovely to me.
 
:blush:

I'm glad you like it, Girl. I have others, but... I think they're not acceptable for public consumption and this one is...innocently romantic. :laugh:

Oh, so your naughtyness potential is in there, eh? :cheeky: The choice is yours obviously with what you share, but you do have a great way with words. Congrats *clap*
 
OMG, yes. I'm professionally naughty about MJ. *ahem* I mean, whatever do you mean? :innocent:
 
Back
Top