Young and Beautiful

Eighteen.

Clearly, talking wasn't gonna help anything between them. He figured that he knew Demi well enough to know that. He knew that he had to push her boundaries to get some type of reaction out of her, to get her to showcase some emotion and stop being so stoic all of the time. They were passing the 10th floor when Wilmer inched closer to her. They were standing side by side, facing the doors and watching the floor numbers move up in the dim lighting of the elevator. The music was playing very quietly but every time the elevator passed a new floor it would ding, interrupting the comfortable silence. And each time they passed a floor, Wilmer only got closer and closer until his pinky was brushing against hers and they were so close that he could hear her irregular breathing.

They made eye contact and he knew from the look on her face that she was aware of what he was trying to do. But she didn't move away and she didn't open her mouth to protest. She looked back at the doors and when their bodies finally made contact, even if it was just the material covering their hips rubbing against each other, she shakily exhaled but didn't move away. As the doors finally opened, the two separated with nothing said between them.

Wilmer walked to his room and fumbled with the key in his pocket because he was trying to make sure that Demi got into hers safely. But when he looked up, she wasn't trying to enter her room. She wasn't even looking for her key. She was standing right next to him, waiting for him to open his door.

"Dorinda texted me...Isabella is in my room with the twins," Demi quietly said, as if they weren't the only ones in the hall. As if the floor wasn't nearly empty. As if she was telling him a secret that she didn't want anyone else to hear.

They locked eyes and Demi tugged her bottom lip in between her teeth. Wilmer finally got the door unlocked and he pushed it open, walking into the cool room. And Demi didn't hesitate to follow him.

Wilmer dropped the bag with his equipment in it and shrugged out of his pleather jacket. Demi's black trench coat with the leather sleeves was shed and placed carefully over the couch. She combed her fingers through her short locks as she kicked off her expensive red bottoms. Wilmer knelt down and untied his boots and shoved them to the side of the bed and began to approach her.

As Wilmer walked towards her, Demi realized what she needed. She needed some type of escape from the chaos of her life. To everyone else, her life was picture perfect and she had everything that she could ever want. She had seen so much and she had done so much but she had also lost so much and she just wanted to be free from it all. Wilmer was that freedom. He was her escape from her marital problems and her unhappiness. Even if it was just for a little bit, she wanted this and she wanted it with him.

As soon as he stepped in front of her, she was the one who grabbed his face in her small and soft hands and stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him like she never had before. She wasn't shy and she wasn't reserved or thinking about her husband or anything else; all she could do was kiss him like he was her last breath and she moaned into his mouth when he kissed her back with just as much vigor. When they pulled away to breathe Wilmer lifted her and her legs wrapped around his waist and she grasped his neck as they kissed again and he walked them backwards to the bed.

She was in a hurry, unbuckling his belt and using her hands to push down his pants but he tried to slow it down a bit. He wanted this moment to last forever because he doubted that they would ever experience this ever again. He never wanted this moment to end and he would make it last into the wee hours of the morning if he had to. Nothing about what they were doing was realistic or right but it felt right to him. It felt like this was how things should be and maybe his feelings were valid because it seemed as if Demi felt something for him too.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when Demi stopped ravishing his neck to sit up, straddling him as she tugged her shirt off of her body and pushed her skirt up her hips. He probably sounded like a crazed fan with an unhealthy obsession but the way that the moonlight was shining on her and her hair was falling in front of her eyes and the swollenness of her pink lips made her look like a goddess, his own personal Aphrodite that had come down to shower him with the love and affection that he hadn't received in years.