He Drew me in

The city was exhaling last time I caught up with you — that soft, golden hour between office lights flickering on and the last streak of daylight brushing the Yarra. Melbourne always feels different at that time of day, as though the whole city has loosened its collar.

You were waiting for me near the Princes Bridge, hands in your pockets, posture relaxed but eyes warm in that way I’ve come to recognise. There’s a gentleness to you, Drew — not softness, but a kind of curated restraint, like a man who knows exactly how much strength he holds, and exactly how to use it.

We began to walk along Southbank, the river moving slow and dark beside us. Crowds drifted past, but they felt distant; the world had narrowed to that quiet bubble around our footsteps. You asked about my day in that low, calm voice of yours — not out of politeness, but with real interest, the kind that reaches beneath the surface and makes a woman feel held.

By the time we reached the Royal Botanic Gardens, dusk had slipped into evening. The air smelled faintly of eucalyptus and warm earth. People were thinning out, heading home, leaving the garden paths hushed and spacious.

You led me to one of the wooden benches tucked beneath the Moreton Bay fig. A private little pocket of the Gardens, where the leaves above us rustled like an old secret.

When you sat beside me, you didn’t touch me at first. You let the anticipation build. You always do.

Your gaze travelled slowly from my mouth, along the line of my neck, to the rise of my chest with a deliberate, appreciative hunger that warmed my skin wherever it lingered. I felt your breath deepen. I felt myself responding to you, drawn into that magnetic, masculine steadiness you carry so effortlessly.

“Come here,” you murmured.

And I did.

You kissed me with the kind of care that feels like possession and invitation all at once — slow at first, tasting the moment, then deeper, the kind of lingering heat that unsettles the breath. The pressure of your body shifted closer, firmer, unmistakably drawn to mine. I felt the restrained urgency in the way your hand cupped my waist, in the way your breath caught when I leaned into your chest.

The Gardens were quiet, almost reverent around us, as though the entire city had stepped back to give you that moment with me.

When you finally pulled away, your forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling warm in the cool night air.

“My place?” I whispered hoarsely.

You didn’t answer with words. You simply took my hand and we caught the next tram going toward my apartment...

Miranda xox

If you’re ready for an evening where time stands still, where the city fades and it’s only us…I’m waiting.

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