Dumped!

Dumped (26)

26

I gripped the sweater lying on the ground, and let out a soft moan into Jeremy's shoulder.

Utterly and completely stupefying!

Minutes later, we lay there, breathing deeply and he leaned his forehead against mine, gazing intently into my eyes. He hadn't broken his gaze, even for a second, throughout.

"Glad we left shore now?" he whispered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I tried to respond, but couldn't say a word. I was literally, speechless.  I stared back dreamily at him, and ran my finger along his jawbone, trying to memorize every feature. He moaned and whispered, "Oh God. What are you doing to me, Deana?", with a small wince, smiling slightly.

If only he knew what he did to me, with every single touch.

He grazed my cheek with his thumb, and I felt my body respond instantly, as I sucked in my breath. He sensed it, and smiled, slowly leaning down and kissing me, until we were going at it again.

And again.

And again.

At some point, we moved into the cabin - we were far enough from shore that no one could see or hear us, but the ground was getting a tad bit uncomfortable. 

And then again and again, until I knew every line, every crease, every slope, and every inch of Jeremy's body, by heart.

As we lay with our bodies entwined in the sheets, I slumped back into the pillows. Jeremy turn on his side to face me, leaning his head in his palm and I looked up at him.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, brushing my hair off my face. 

I turned, facing him. Everything about him was perfect. The way he frowned, smiled; the way he looked at me; the way he touched me.

"You . . . first", I answered, biting my lip.

"Second?" he asked, his forehead against mine.

"That . . . we can't tell anyone about this", I replied.

"Do you want to?" he asked.

I slowly shook my head, "Not really."

"Well, office policy doesn't even allow it – I’m your boss. It’s completely unethical", he said.

"Do you want to?" I asked, our foreheads still joined.

He gave me a small smile. "Not really."

"Why not?" I asked, merely curious.

"Be-cause . . I want it to be just . . . you and me, for a while, without the world’s interference", he whispered.

It was like he was reading my thoughts, verbatim. 

“Me too”, I whispered back, and then, went on, “So . . . um . . . what . . . um –” mumbling, nervously.

“Deana, you can ask me anything”, he said.

I bit my lip. “What . . . what is this? You know, you and me? I mean, I don’t want to label it or anything, but . . I . . . I want to know.”

He sighed, and slowly rolled off me. ‘Oh crap’, I thought to myself, ‘I’d gone and ruined a perfectly perfect moment.’ He was still holding on to my hand, so it wasn’t completely ruined.