Murmurer
"We can't do this"
His hand slips underneath her shirt and her voice hitches, last words swallowed in the desperate gasps of air she's trying to pull in before his lips press against hers once more and she's lost in a struggle for oxygen, control and the feel of him pulled as close to her as possible.
"Why?"
His lips graze the base of her neck, skin flaming red as he pauses - hand resting on her stomach. A wry smile crosses her swollen lips and she wonders if he's debating which way to go; shirt or jeans first. Her cheeks scorch at the thought.
"Don't you dare say because of work" he manages to slip in before she can open her mouth to reply. When she finally does his lips are upon her so quick she forgets the words forming in her mind, the ones about how work is the exact reason they can't be doing this – and that. She shivers as his tongue runs across hers, teeth biting down gently on her bottom lip.
"Matthew"
She whispers so softly that he pauses a moment, loving the feel of his name tumbling from her lips pressed near his cheek, moist from the hot air between them.
Suddenly his hand slips from her stomach to cup her hip, nestled between her jeans and skin and she squirms, feeling like a young girl who's just gotten her first kiss all over again. Because that's what it's like with him, everything's new and exciting and it doesn't matter that they shouldn't – because they are.
"Is this a one night thing?" she asks suddenly and his hands journey pauses. His eyes glance up at hers and the uncertainty in them almost kills her. She has to press her hand to her nose to stop the tears she can feel forming because if tomorrow they have to pretend like nothing happened then there's no way she'll be able to work with him – or be his friend.
"Jen"
It takes her a second to realises his hand is cupping her cheek – not her waist as it was moments earlier; before she broke the passion and brought them back to reality.
"Do you…want it to be a one night thing?" he asks softly, so softly that she forces herself to look back at him.
She almost gasps in surprise. All she can see now are clear, desperate blues, and if she looks hard enough she's sure they're desperate for her to say no.
Without a second thought – because if she'd allowed those to creep in they'd still be down at the pub having a beer – she shakes her head firmly, a lone tear escaping the confines of her eyelids.
It's the first time she's cried over a man when he was with her, the first time she's cried over anyone before they'd left. Again the uncertainty fills her as she ponders that thought, because she doesn't know if he's going to leave or not.
But, suddenly his hands back to her waist and she's pushed closer against him, now in his lap as his hand on her back holds her upright.
She tries to speak but before she can his lips are pressed against hers and a new feeling washes through her – that this isn't about sex, about physical touches. It's emotion and heart and the need for another person to be there to understand, all pushed together in one little package.
Somehow she manages to slip a finger in between his lips before they can press against her once more, stopping his movements as her blonde locks fall dangerously over her eyes, blocking his view of her.
She shakes them away defiantly and his heart soars, because the look in her eyes when they meet his blue gaze is the Jennifer he knows.
"Can we sleep?" she asks slowly, testing out the words.
He can't hide that he's startled – he is; but it's not because she'd turned him down. It's because no woman has ever cared that much to ask him in the first place, and he's never been confident enough that he meant that much to a woman to ask himself.
He bites down on his bottom lip before that smile graces his features and her stomach flips. For the first time in her life she thinks she may have found a guy who cares – a guy she might one day fall in love with.
"Yes please" he whispers softly and lays his cheek against hers.
Somewhat stiffly he leans back, swinging a foot up onto the lounge as they stretch out. By the time they've found a comfortable position to rest in her head is lying on his chest, hands spread across the thin work shirt he's still wearing.
His suit, shoes, tie and belt are scattered somewhere down her hallway as are her boots, scarf and jacket. A small reminder of what had almost happened when they'd stumbled through the front door earlier.
He can feel her drifting off already and lets a hand rest against her back, rubbing soothing circles gently. He can't deny the relief that accompanies not sleeping with her straight away – they hadn't been anywhere near drunk enough to blame alcohol if they'd regretted it – and anyway, she means to much to throw away for one night.
No, he's quite content to hold her the rest of his life if it means having her that long. Cause whilst he's not in love – it's a matter of yet. And he's not sure when the yet will turn into now.
"Matt?"
He almost jumps as her sleepy voice penetrates the silence of the lounge room.
"Don't tell Si and Dunny in the morning, will you" she mumbles against his chest, and before he can respond she's sound asleep.
He laughs gently, trying to imagine the guys faces if he tried to convince them of what's happened in the short space of half an hour. Because it feels like his whole life's taken a very welcome U-turn.
Nope. There's no way in hell he's telling those two what's happening, and not just because they'd wouldn't believe a bar of it.
She just means way too much to have those two mongrels knowing.