The Croatian Adventure: Old Habits, New Flames

Julie's heels clicked on the cobblestone streets of Zagreb as she wandered aimlessly, her mind fuzzy from jet lag. The city's baroque architecture and bustling cafes blurred together in her exhausted state. After hours of meandering, she stumbled upon a cozy cafe and gratefully sank into a plush armchair.

The rich aroma of coffee enveloped her as she gazed around the dimly lit interior. Her eyes widened as she noticed wisps of smoke curling through the air. A young couple at a nearby table caught her attention - the woman took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling languidly as her boyfriend gazed at her adoringly.

"I can't believe they still allow smoking inside here," Julie muttered under her breath, a mix of surprise and longing in her voice.

Her fingers twitched involuntarily, muscle memory from her brief stint as a smoker during the experiment. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the girl's slender hand as she tapped ash into a crystal ashtray.

"Fuck, I shouldn't be watching them like this," Julie chided herself silently. But the intimacy between the couple, punctuated by tendrils of smoke, was mesmerizing.

The boyfriend leaned in close, whispering something that made the girl giggle. She took another drag, this time blowing the smoke playfully in his face. He didn't seem to mind at all, pulling her in for a deep kiss instead.

Julie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs. "Get it together," she muttered. But her body thrummed with a familiar craving - for nicotine, yes, but also for that carefree sensuality the couple exuded.

She **** herself to look away, flagging down a waiter. "Just an espresso, please," she said, her voice slightly strained. As she waited for her coffee, Julie's mind drifted to George, sequestered away at his literary conference. What would he think if he could see her now, practically salivating over a stranger's cigarette?

The espresso arrived, but even as Julie sipped the rich brew, her gaze kept wandering back to the smoking couple. Their easy intimacy stood in stark contrast to the tension Julie felt coiled inside herself. She longed to feel that relaxed, that free.

"You're being ridiculous," she scolded herself. "You quit. It's over." But even as the words formed in her mind, Julie knew she was lying to herself. The cravings may have faded from time to time, but they'd never truly disappeared. And now, watching the smoke curl lazily through the air, Julie felt that familiar ache intensify once again.

Julie's phone buzzed, startling her from her reverie. George's name flashed on the screen.

"Hey George," she answered, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Hey! Conference is wrapping up. Ready for our island getaway?"

Julie's eyes flicked once more to the smoking couple before she stood, gathering her things. "God, yes. Let's get out of here."

The drive to the coast was a blur of winding roads and breathtaking vistas. As they boarded the ferry, the salty air whipped Julie's hair, momentarily clearing her head of lingering smoke-filled fantasies.

"Holy shit, George," Julie gasped as they pulled up to their hotel. "This place is fucking insane."

George grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "Only the best for my girl."

Inside, Julie's jaw dropped at the opulent suite. "Seriously, how much did this set us back? We can't afford-"

"Relax, Jules," George interrupted, wrapping his arms around her waist. "It's all covered by my book earnings. Not a cent of Mark's money, I swear."

Julie stiffened slightly at the mention of Mark's name. "You sure? 'Cause I gotta say, this seems a bit much for a couple of schmucks like us."

George's laugh rumbled against her back. "What, a guy can't spoil his smoking hot wife once in a while?"

Julie's breath caught at his choice of words. Could he read her mind? Did he suspect? No, impossible. She **** a laugh. "Well, when you put it that way... I guess I'll just have to find some way to thank you properly later."

As George's hands began to wander, Julie fought to push away the nagging voice in her head. This was supposed to be their romantic getaway. So why couldn't she shake the feeling that something was missing?

Julie's fingers intertwined with George's as they strolled along the beach, the setting sun painting the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink. The gentle lapping of waves against the shore provided a soothing rhythm, matching the steady beat of her heart.

"God, I needed this," she sighed, leaning into George's shoulder. "It’s like I can actually breathe out here."

George squeezed her hand. "That’s the idea, babe. No kids, no work, no… experiments. Just us."

A slight tension twisted in Julie's stomach at the reminder, but she pushed it aside. "You always know just what I need, don’t you?"

"Well, I try," George chuckled. "Speaking of which, I’ve got a little surprise for dinner. You up for some seriously fancy seafood?"

Julie’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Are you kidding? Lead the way, Mr. Moneybags!"

The restaurant was even more extravagant than she had imagined. Candlelight flickered across crisp white tablecloths, and the air was rich with the aroma of fresh seafood and spices.

"Jesus, George," she whispered as they were led to their table. "This is… a lot."

George’s brow furrowed slightly. "Too much? I just wanted to do something special."

"No, no," Julie backpedaled, managing a warm smile. "It's amazing. Really."

As they perused the menu, her mind began to wander. The sight of the wine list brought her back to the hotel minibar, a small trigger that set her nerves alight. Her fingers twitched, and she clenched her hand under the table, willing herself to relax. Why couldn’t she just enjoy the moment?

"You okay, Jules?" George’s voice gently pulled her back. "You seem a little… I dunno, tense?"

Julie took a deep breath, offering him a reassuring smile. "Just… taking it all in, I guess. It’s been a while since we’ve done anything this fancy."

George reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "Hey, we deserve this. You deserve this. After everything…"

"You’re right," she said, masking her unease with a brighter smile. "Let’s make the most of it. What do you say we start with that bottle of champagne?"

As the bubbles tickled her nose, Julie tried to lose herself in the atmosphere. But even as George launched into stories from his recent writing conference, a familiar craving gnawed at her, lingering like an itch she couldn’t quite reach.

George’s eyes twinkled as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, Jules, I’ve still got one more surprise for you tonight."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Another one? And what might that be?"

With a mischievous grin, George reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, rectangular package. Julie’s breath caught as she recognized the familiar white and gold design. Her fingers tingled as he slid the pack across the table.

"George? What the hell?" she whispered, her voice a mix of shock and intrigue. Her fingers hovered over the cellophane-wrapped pack, almost afraid to touch it. "Are these…?"

"The same ones he gave you," he replied, his grin widening. "I figured, since you smoked them during… the experiment, you might appreciate a little indulgence."

Conflicting emotions swirled within her—desire, apprehension, curiosity. "I… I don’t understand. Why would you do this?"

George’s expression softened, the humor in his eyes giving way to something deeper. "Because I want you to be happy, Jules. And if that means having an occasional smoke… then so be it."

She shook her head, resisting the urge to reach out. "No, I can’t. It’d be such a waste after a month without them. I’ve been doing fine, really."

George chuckled, his gaze flicking to her fidgeting hands. "Fine? Honey, you’ve been wound up tighter than a drum. Look at your nails—you’ve practically chewed them down. Besides, I saw how much you enjoyed that cigarette at the motel. So... why deny yourself?"

Her cheeks flushed, a strange mixture of embarrassment and longing creeping in. "But… but it’s unhealthy."

"Sure it is," he replied, shrugging casually. "But there are worse vices in the world than a little nicotine."

Julie's fingers inched back towards the pack, her resolve weakening. "You’re sure about this?"

George nodded, his eyes calm and steady. "Go ahead. After all, I’ll light up too."

To her utter shock, he reached into his pocket again and produced a slim, elegant pack of cigarillos. Her eyes widened, her mind struggling to reconcile this image with the man she knew.

"What the… George?" she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "Since when do you smoke?"

He chuckled, tapping one of the slim cigars out. "Truth is, I never really quit. Even after we started dating, I’d sneak one now and then with the boys."

She felt a complex mix of emotions—surprise, relief, maybe even a touch of resentment. "I can’t believe this. You’we been smoking behind my back for ten years?”

“I wasn’t exactly a regular smoker, Jules, it was just casually in company. I didn’t want to rock the boat, you know damn well how much you hated it because of your parents, so…”

“Why tell me now?"

George lit his cigarillo, the rich, earthy aroma drifting between them. He took a slow drag, exhaling smoothly before answering. "Because we’re both rediscovering each other, aren’t we? And because I want us both to feel free."

His gaze shifted meaningfully to the cigarettes resting in front of her. "What are you waiting for, Jules? Stop pretending you don’t want it."

Her fingers trembled as she reached for the pack. With a deep breath, she slid one cigarette free, her heart racing as her gaze met George’s warm, approving eyes. With a nod of encouragement from him, she lifted it to her lips, the filter resting softly against her mouth.

The lighter’s flame danced at the cigarette’s tip, and as she took that first inhale, the familiar burn and rush of nicotine washed over her. She exhaled slowly, savoring the sensation, feeling weird for smoking in front of her husband. "Wow… I forgot how intense that first drag can be."

George chuckled, his gaze locked on her. "You okay there, Jules? You look a bit… flushed."

She nodded, feeling a strange sense of liberation as she brought the cigarette back to her lips, this time more confidently. "I’m more than okay." She felt the warmth spread through her chest, the sensation oddly grounding.

"You know," George murmured, his voice tinged with admiration, "that cigarette looks damn good in your hand."

Julie felt a thrill shoot through her, a mixture of pride and arousal she hadn’t expected. She locked eyes with him as she took another drag, this time deeper, letting the smoke fill her completely. She made her signature open-mouth inhale, the smoke disappearing into her lungs with a sharp intake of breath.

As she exhaled, a thick stream of smoke drifted between her juicy lips. George’s approving hum sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. "That looked… nice," he said, his voice laced with warmth and something else—desire.

Julie couldn’t help but smile, a newfound confidence glinting in her eyes. "Well," she teased, tapping ash from her cigarette, "I had a whole month to discover my style."

The nicotine rush hit her like a tidal wave, her eyes fluttering closed as she let herself fully feel it. Her body hummed with satisfaction, each inhale and exhale steadying her pulse, easing her tension.

"Jules," George murmured, watching her intently. "I’ve missed that blissful look on your face."

Her eyes opened, and she met his gaze with a new sense of mischief. She took another long drag, exhaling a stream of smoke that lingered in the air. "Thank you, George… for letting me have this." She winked at him, showing she intended to repay her indulgence later.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he replied.

They continued to sip their wine and smoke, the sultry atmosphere enveloping them like a warm embrace. The craving that had haunted her all day was finally satisfied—replaced by an even more powerful desire she could no longer ignore.

"God, George… I can’t remember the last time I felt this good," Julie murmured, her thoughts drifting to all the ways they might spend the night together. Finally, she wasn’t anxious about it anymore and George felt it too. The the air between them crackled with an unspoken tension, their gazes smoldering.

"Jules, I think it’s time we change the scenery," George whispered, leaning closer, his dark eyes filled with intent. "Let’s finish our wine and head back to the room. We have a lot of… catching up to do."

"Sounds perfect," she purred, finishing her cigarette and pressing it out in the ashtray. Her mind raced with anticipation, eager to explore every inch of her desires.

As they left the restaurant, hand in hand, Julie felt a newfound sense of freedom. For once, she allowed herself to indulge without guilt, savoring every sensation, every thrill. Tonight, she would give herself permission to feel everything—with George by her side, every step of the way.