Love Her

Part 19

Her breathing began to pick up, her heart pounding out a jagged rhythm. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed her hands balled up into tight fists. She showed all the signs of distress, yet she didn't move.

I chuckled darkly and leaned away. I was disappointed by her actions. She didn't take any action for self-preservation.

Every time I looked at her face, that impossibly perfect face, my heart pounded strong and healthy and very there in my chest. This time, the pounding raced ahead of its usual besotted pace.

I kissed slowly down her cheek letting her skin warm them. I brought my lips to the corner of her mouth. Gently, I let my bottom lip softly brush against hers.

"Hey, I'll be home late. Don't wait up, okay? I love you."

She closed the phone, hanging up.

With every touch of our lips electricity shot through my body sending a joyous feeling through my veins. Her bottom lip was trembling in absolute pleasure. I took in several generous gulps of her breath.

I pulled her face into my hands a little rougher than usual and brought my lips to hers fiercely. Our lips were moving together and we were both panting heavily at the sensations shooting through our bodies. She brought her arms around my neck bringing me closer to her. We embraced frantically while our bodies were welded together.

My hands moved eagerly to her back bringing her closer to my chest while bowing her body against mine. She was quivering with delight as her lips parted slightly and she sighed heavily bringing her breath deep in my lungs. Excitement exploded in the pit of my stomach.

"We're a pretty messed-up pair, aren't we?" She said. "Neither one of us can hold our shape together right."

"Pathetic," I agreed, still breathless.

"At least we have each other," She said, clearly comforted by the thought.

I was comforted, too. "At least there's that," I agreed.

And when we were together, it was fine.

We spent the day together, and when she left, I did my chores and made dinner.

I hurried through my dinner, not tasting it, just feeling the ache as it slid down my raw throat. Mostly I was thirsty; I must have drunk a half-gallon of water by the time I was finished.

That night, I realized I had a pit in my stomach.

Was it always so dark at night? Surely, as a rule, some little bit of moonlight would filter down through the clouds, through the chinks in the canopy of trees, in through my window, and find the ground.

I tried to pull myself together, but my eyes were swimming in moisture.