“So beautiful,” he breathed, his fingers tracing the space between my breasts, sliding down the contour of my abdomen until they reached the waistband of my capris. I held my breath, silently willing him to continue shedding my clothes. “Lauren Marie Jefferies, I’ve never met anyone like you before.”
I chose to accept that as a compliment given our current positions. I also noted that my full name rolled off his tongue like it was second nature. I racked my brain to remember a conversation we had had where we exchanged our middle names and came up empty. I didn’t know his. And the only time I could think of where he had heard mine mentioned was during Eric’s proposal.
My fingers, which had been running absently through his hair, froze.
Undeterred, he continued his worship of my bare skin. “Elliott,” he muttered as he kissed a circle around my navel.
“Huh?” I asked stupidly. I told myself my momentary loss of grasp on the English language had to do with a combination of being caught off guard and the fact that he was focused on unbuttoning my pants.
“My middle name. Elliott. I hate it.”
“Matthew Elliott Snyder,” I whispered, trying it out for myself. “I kind of like it.”
He laughed as he lowered my zipper. With just a slight tug my pants slid to the concrete. “It only sounds good when you say it. My parents thought it sounded stately; like it would be a good name for a future president.”
He played with the edges of my underwear. I was torn. As much as I wanted to continue with our extracurricular activities, this was the first time he had willingly brought up anything about his parents.
“I kind of ruined that dream for them,” he said, looking up at me with a grin that seemed both out of place and apropos all at once, “with the felony and all.”
I stared down at him, unsure of what to say.
“It makes me feel better that my sister didn’t get spared, either. Hers is Victoria.”
“Like the queen?”
“Exactly like the queen. She hates hers, too. Ask her sometime; she’ll be pissed that I told you.”
“Maybe later. I’m trying to get back into her good graces at the moment.”
“You don’t need any help with that,” he stated, completely serious. “Now where were we?”
As if we hadn’t taken a momentary pause in the action to discuss middle names and criminal records, he turned his full attention back to the small section of fabric that prevented me from being entirely naked before him. He brushed the cotton with his thumb. Shivers went down my spine at the touch. When he had had enough of that, he slid his index finger under my thong and pushed it to the side. I gasped for air and grabbed a fistful of his hair.
Heat flooded between my legs as he stroked me with a hesitant yet practiced touch. Wordlessly he asked for my permission; I wrapped my hand around his wrist and directed his fingers where I wanted them. As he obeyed and his index and middle fingers slid inside me, I moaned in approval.
In one quick move, he was back on his feet and his lips were on mine, kissing me hungrily. I felt his erection against my hip and impulsively I reached out, taking him in my hand. I could feel the blood rushing through his veins; he grew even harder in my firm grip.
His fingers continued their exploration, curving around me and making me feel things I hadn’t thought possible. His free hand tugged at the elastic of my underwear, forcing it down my leg on one side. He kept pulling until the other side encircled his wrist. Even then he kept pleasuring me, his hand moving in a steady rhythm against me.
My breath came in short, ragged bursts as his motions increased in intensity. He plunged deeper inside, moving at a quicker pace. I shuddered involuntarily at the sensation. As I completely came undone, I pulled away from his kiss, another moan escaping my lips.
When it was over, when the shaking stopped, he removed his fingers and my thong dropped to the concrete beside us. He took his foot and pushed it out of the way. Then he lifted me up and carried me to the pool.
Matthew lowered us both in the water. I shivered again, this time because the water was slightly cold. It only took a couple of minutes before my body adjusted to the temperature. That may or may not have had something to do with the fact that he began a whole new onslaught of kisses.
“Have you ever gone skinny dipping before?” he asked me between them.
I shook my head. “I’ve not done a lot of things before,” I admitted.
“Like orgasming without having intercourse?”
“Yes.” I felt myself blush, embarrassed.
He either didn’t see the redness of my skin in the moonlight or he chose to ignore it. “Then I’m glad that I was your first.”
I had the distinct yearning to tell him that I hoped he was my only, but I swallowed it down. No need to jinx whatever this was in the first week it had started. Instead I responded with a kiss that might have told him everything he needed to know anyway.
We swam for a few minutes, him never letting go of me. During this time I debated the practicality of actually having sex in the pool. Even though it seemed like something out of a romance novel, I doubted that the reality was anything close. After all, water wasn’t exactly the best lubricant. And knowing myself, I’d probably lose my balance, hit my head and drown. Even if I didn’t die, I’d never be able to go swimming here with Blake and keep a straight face.
Either he hadn’t been planning that at all or he could read me like an open book. Just as things began to get hot and heavy between us again, he swam us back over to the water’s edge, lifting me up so that I sat on the concrete, my legs dangling in the water. He pushed himself out of the pool and grabbed one of the towels we had brought outside, spreading it out beside me.
“I love you so much,” he breathed as he gently laid me down. He stared into my eyes as he brushed my wet hair away from my face.
“I think I’ve always loved you,” I whispered back, raising my finger to trace it across his chest. I felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten at the touch; my breath caught in my lungs. “In fact, these past few months have only proven that.”
I remembered Chris’s words tonight, what his cop friend had said about me. How my eyes were empty and hollow. How I looked as though I just didn’t care about what happened to me. If someone who had never met me before could tell that from a ten minute encounter – when I thought at that point that I’d started healing – I shuddered to think what everyone else had seen.
“We wasted so much time pretending that we didn’t feel anything when it was always there,” I continued.
“And we have the rest of our lives to make up for it,” he said simply, “starting now.”
I smiled up at him as he hovered over me. Water from his unruly hair dripped down on my forehead. He kissed it away with a laugh.
Somewhere in the backyard I heard something that sounded like a twig snapping. Realizing that we were naked in the great outdoors, my modesty kicked in and I self-consciously covered my breasts with my arm.
“What was that?” I whispered.
“Really? You haven’t gotten used to not living in Indianapolis yet? I practically live in the country. We have these things here called raccoons. Even possums. Deer. Outdoor cats. I hardly think they’ll ogle you.”
I giggled as my imagination conjured up a picture of cartoonish wildlife sitting poolside, taking in our show. Then his lips were covering mine and we picked up where we left off.
That night, we slept under the stars, covered only in each other.
Chapter Twenty-One
The letter was shoved under my office door the next morning. Not exactly on my desk like I had instructed, but I was willing to compromise since I always locked my door. I knelt down and picked it up.
“Good morning, Lauren,” George boomed from behind me.
I squeaked a little bit in surprise, then sprung up to my full height – which granted wasn’t much. As I whirled around on my four inch heels to face my boss I rubbed the back of m
y neck. Sleeping outside on concrete hadn’t been the best idea. But I wasn’t about to regret the experience no matter how badly my muscles ached.
Tonight Matthew had promised that the venue would be my place and we’d do something more traditional like watch a movie on television.
“Morning, George,” I said brightly.
He gestured to the paper in my hand. “I see you got your apology.”
I shrugged. “Haven’t read it yet.”
I sat down in my chair and scanned the note as my computer booted up. George took his usual seat, coffee already in hand. He watched me intently as I read. I raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“What?” I asked finally.
“Not thirsty today?”
“Oh, that. I’ve been up for awhile. Already had about three cups. I should probably quit while I’m ahead.”
“And I should probably come in to check on you about three this afternoon to make sure you aren’t passed out face down on your desk.”
“George, I slept last night. I promise.”
“Uh huh.”
“I, um, just got up early.” I couldn’t stop the blush that spread across my cheeks.
“So things are going well?”
“You could say that,” I demurred.
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks.”
“He’s lucky to have you. And he’s a good guy, no matter what Jeff says.”
“I know.”
I’d forgotten that Matthew and George had met, however briefly, when he’d helped Blake redecorate my office for Christmas. Though we skirted around the issue it felt good to know I had his support. Especially since I was certain that I’d be the subject of many water cooler conversations today. I knew George would do his best to diffuse the situation.
“I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d ducked out today,” he admitted, “given the scene yesterday.”
“To be honest, it seems like it was ages ago. So many things have happened since then that it feels like ancient history. Besides, once the receptionist shows up in a miniskirt, I won’t be the focus of attention anymore.”
George almost choked on the coffee he’d just sipped. He swallowed it down with substantial effort. “So you’re okay, really?”
I nodded. “Never better. I’m learning to develop a thick skin. I have a feeling that it’s going to come in handy.”
Satisfied, he rose from his seat. “Well, I’ll let you get to work then. If you need anything, you know where I am.”
“I do,” I confirmed.
He paused in the threshold of my office. “Open or closed?”
So he was going to employ the door test as the final determination of my emotional stability. Smart man.
“Open,” I responded, much to his approval.
Once he had disappeared from view, I turned my attention back to Jeff’s letter. I’d skimmed it during George’s visit, knowing he would want to hear if it violated one of my conditions, but I hadn’t honestly read it.
Miss Jefferies,
I sincerely apologize for my outburst during our shared lunch break on Monday. I realize now that I was out of line and should not have commented on things of a personal nature in such a manner. I understand that you, as a member of management, should be respected and my words were inexcusable.
I am grateful for your compassion in lobbying on my behalf so that I could keep my internship with the company. I know that my actions were an offense of the written employee guidelines and could have been grounds for termination.
I further promise that I will no longer say inappropriate things to you or any other employee while in the work environment.
Respectfully,
Jeff Townsend
Not exactly a masterpiece, but it was technically what I had ordered. I imagined him writing it yesterday under his supervisor’s watchful eye, the sarcasm dripping off his pen as he formed the letters. I didn’t believe it for a second. Not with the way he had glared at me in the parking lot when he’d seen me speaking with Chris.
But as long as he left me alone, he could have his own opinion. I certainly didn’t need him to condone what I was doing. I knew in my heart what was right, and Jeff’s judgment didn’t change my opinion. He was just a kid with a crush, nothing more.
The workday passed uneventfully for the most part. I got an instant message from the mailroom supervisor that Jeff would be taking his break at noon, so I avoided the lunch room at all costs during that hour. At about one-thirty I heated up my lunch and carried it back to my desk. I was swamped with emails and new files anyway, and I wanted to leave right at five so I could I run by the grocery to pick up something to make for dinner.
At quitting time, Bob escorted me out to my car without question. He had, as I’d advised, moved his truck closer to my car in the parking lot. Funny, I hadn’t seen him as a truck person. We walked together in companionable silence, giving each other the obligatory “good night” prior to climbing in our respective vehicles and pulling away.
With the quick stop for ingredients on my way home, I barely made it in the door before Matthew arrived. He sat at the small kitchen table as I buzzed around making dinner. It was reminiscent of time spent at Blake’s house, only with added benefits of a sexual relationship.
“Did you talk to Blake about having dinners together again?” I asked as I chopped up a carrot. “You know, she could have come over tonight.”
“I know. Like I said, she wants to give us our space. And maybe she’s a little upset that she could never take your place in the kitchen.”
I laughed. “No one likes to be reminded of their failures. And it doesn’t always have to be over here. Just think, I’ll have three different places to cook in.”
“That kind of sounds like a nightmare to me.”
“I missed it, really I did. It’s not the same cooking for one. I got used to cooking for two with my dad and all, so anything less seems kind of pointless. So I succumbed to a life of frozen dinners and takeout.”
“Tragic.”
“I know, right?”
“I’ll talk to her about it again. Maybe we’ll set up something for next week sometime.”
“Sounds good.”
I loved how we could talk about plans for the future so nonchalantly, like we were really together. There was still a smidgeon of self-doubt that I’d wake up in the morning alone and that this would have all been a vivid dream. Maybe that’s why we hadn’t slept alone since our reconciliation. It was a little hard to ignore reality when it laid in bed with you all night.
Dinner wasn’t complicated; I didn’t have the tools for it here. I had bought a couple of steaks to pan fry with some vegetables and called it good. Considering that Blake’s repertoire consisted of burnt and scrambled eggs, it might as well have been gourmet according to Matthew.
After we’d eaten, we settled onto the couch in the living room to watch a movie as promised. I snuggled up against him, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. He flipped aimlessly through the channels, searching for a suitable selection.
My phone chose that moment to ring, and I practically jumped a mile off the couch. Figuring it was Gracie, I leaned away from Matthew and towards the coffee table to grab it. Prepared to answer and let her know I was busy and I’d call her back later, my fingers grasped my cell only to find I couldn’t have been more wrong.
I stared at the display, frozen, as the phone both rang and vibrated in my hand.
Matthew set the remote on the arm of the couch and looked at me. “Aren’t you going to answer that?”
My cell continued to alert me to the incoming call. I stared up at him and turned the phone towards him so he was clued into my dilemma. I would have recognized the number anywhere, but Matthew needed the name to understand what was going on.
“Can’t we just be happy for ten minutes?” I whined.
“Just answer it and see what he wants,” Matthew suggested, ever the level-headed one.
Right
before it would have been routed to voice mail, I connected the call and took a deep breath.
“Eric?” I answered.
“Lauren?”
“Uh huh.”
I wanted to smack myself for letting him render me speechless. For letting the sound of his voice throw me off guard, for letting him have this power over me from so many miles away. My heart raced in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins as my fight or flight instinct kicked in. My brain struggled to form a coherent thought, and I practically sighed in relief when he took lead of the conversation.
“I sold the condo, Lauren,” he said, jumping right into his planned script. No “How are you?” or “What have you been up to?” for him.
“Okay.” I stretched the syllables out as far as they would go, turning to Matthew for help. If I hadn’t have been worried about Eric finding out who I was with, I would have put him on speakerphone. “Why are you telling me this?”
Matthew nodded in approval, waiting for the answer almost as captively as I was. And he didn’t even know what we were talking about yet.
“Because I’m moving, Lauren,” Eric said. His tone made it sound like I was the biggest idiot on the planet. Maybe I was.
“Yes, I’m aware that if you sold your condo you’d have to move.” My tone was just as condescending. Of that I was proud. Now Matthew was clued in as well.
“To Atlanta.”
“To Atlanta,” I repeated, though my voice rose an octave.
“This weekend.”
“This weekend?”
“And I wanted to see you before I left.”
I choked, nearly dropping the phone. Matthew raised his eyebrows in concern, and I realized I had to translate. I tightened my grip on my cell and cleared my throat.
“And you wanted to see me before you left?” I said in a small voice.
“That’s what I said.”
“I don’t know that that’s a good idea,” I hedged, my eyes shooting over to my companion on the couch for help.
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