The doorbell rings once, it's eleven am on a Tuesday- I'm not expecting anyone nor do people often call completely randomly. I wonder for a moment, then go to the window and glance down onto the street. A man is stood on my steps, dark tousled hair and a tanned forehead is all I can gauge from him. Then he looks up and my heart stops beating. It's Connor. I rush downstairs in my robe, I can't believe he has found me. After all this time- I open the door and gasp. It's not Connor but the man standing on my doorstep looks just like him. I try to speak but shut my mouth when no words come out. I am speechless.
Jace.
Looking at the woman in front of me I cannot believe what I see. Megan Paterson is stunning and simultaneously, she is stunned. She looks just as she did in the photo my father gave me, her ebony hair falls in curls to her waist, emerald eyes gazing at me with her perfect mouth held in a surprised , 'Oh.' I realize that I still have not spoken and then find that my mouth is dry.
"Miss Paterson?"
"Yes?"
She blinks and closes her mouth, her rose lipstick beautifully parallel. The urge to kiss her rushes through me. She and I have never known each other. We have no attachment henceforth my attraction to her now is, well, almost normal. Megan is about five foot three, petite in her sleek sage green robe- I would guess her to be a size eight- but curvy and in all ways a goddess. Were we in a bar, I would have already offered to buy her a drink. She is divine. Her honey skin tone, slender legs, her boning fragile with her small hands and feet painted in a brilliant topaz.
"My name is Jason Saunders," I inhale slowly, all too aware how many other things I want to say and do now I've seen her- things I know morality would forbid but my body burns for. "I'm your son."
Meg.
My lungs desperately draw in air and I go to grab the doorframe but feel my hand flail. Jason is the son I had at fifteen- I'm thirty-three now which would make him eighteen, though he looks as though he is in his mid twenties. He is six foot three at least, handsome with broad shoulders and an athletic frame. Desire lanced through me on opening the door but no shame followed, I never nursed him- he was stolen away before he was a month old... I wake with his arms around me in my lounge and I glance around blearily before his voice soothes me.
"You fainted and I brought you in here, it's alright."
"Thank you."
Jason gently helps me sit up. My robe is in disarray and reveals my underwear clad body. I quickly cover up and look to him, still in shock.
"Connor died in a car accident last year, he had told me about you but he never told me your name until he was dying. In his will there was a letter explaining everything. A letter to you left for you also, he wanted us to reunite."
"You were eighteen in February, the fifteenth."
"Yes," Jason smiles, glad that I remember, "I have a photo of us."
Jace.
I produce the photo from my jacket pocket, my dad had it framed to keep in his private office. Showing it to Megan, she puts a hand over her mouth as tears streak her cheeks, she mumbles as she dissolves into tears. Instantly I hold her tight as she cries into my shoulder. Running a hand over her hair, I hush her tears and kiss her forehead. I have no idea what I'm saying but somehow I comfort her, she stays close, hugging me fiercely as though she will never let go and I find myself inhaling the scent of her. Her hair smells of strawberries and cream, her body heat is tangible in the air and her exotic perfume is proving to be erotic despite the innocence of her touch. I hug her harder than I have ever held a woman and feel our bodies fit against eachother.
Meg.
