Drowning. I found myself using that term a lot lately. Drowning in the lies. Drowning in my emotions. Drowning…in his love. It was all just too much.
The current was pulling me down into its dark abyss but I had to ask myself: did I really want to pull myself up? Or did I want to keep drowning in his affection despite the inevitable consequences?
My body shook with silent laughter as he ran his fingers down my bare back. He flipped me over and stared down at me adoringly.
“God…you’re beautiful.” His voice was husky and smelt of cloves. He must have taken up smoking again. I didn’t blame him. The situation was stressful.
I didn’t answer him with words, though my lips said it all.
He pulled away a little breathless and asked, “What time…what time are your parents expecting you home?”
I smiled. “Not until six. We have a dinner party to go to tonight at seven.”
He sighed. “You have to go soon.”
It wasn’t a question but I felt the need to answer it though I felt differently. “Yes.” I closed my eyes and bit the inside of my cheek absentmindedly.
“Damn.” He looked over at the clock sitting on his bedside table. “Four fifty. We have time.”
He ran his hands through my hair for a moment as he gazed down at my naked form. After a moment, he brought his mouth down to mine and I found myself answering my own question.
No, I was content drowning in this passionate taboo.