Almost again

He unzipped my wet jumpsuit, and it fell to the floor in a soft, soaked heap.

He was standing behind me-close, but not touching.
Suddenly, I was bare, except for the thin layer of fabric covering my chest and underwear that barely held onto my dignity.

His fingers trailed along the sides of my shoulders, outlining the shape of me with a featherlight touch. His skin on mine felt like fire-slow, deliberate fire.

He ran his fingers down my arms, circling gently at my elbows. His other hand moved my damp hair over my shoulder, and his touch grazed the nape of my neck, then down to my collarbone.

Then, he held me. Not possessively-but like he was anchoring himself to something that might slip away.

He leaned his forehead against the back of my head, breathing deep.

"I need to go back to work," he said, voice thick, gruff.
"I'll see you tomorrow."

A pause.

"Please lock the door behind you."

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

I wanted to stop him.
I wanted him to stay.
But I was dating his cousin.