He has borrowed my new laptop to log on to his company. I lay beside him, my head resting on his shoulders and I watch him work.
He is discussing with a corporation from Tokyo, he’s interested in a land for the technology development as they have the equipment suitable to make it. At the same time he’s has the next meeting in New York in two weeks where he’ll be broached to about strategy for the company by the headquarters.
I don’t know much of how businesses are ran however I can tell that Jeremy had been born to do this, to lead, because he does this so efficiently and effortlessly, he makes it seems so easy when in fact it’s the hardest thing to do.
I ask the question I’d been longing to ask him since I’d discovered that him and Matthew were brothers.
“How did you inherit the company instead of Matthew?”
He looks away from the laptop and meets my gaze.
“Sorry if I seem intruding but I’m curious.” I apologize.
He smiles softly, “You are not intruding. And it was on my father’s will.” He tells me.
I frown at that still not comprehending. “But Matthew is older than you right? Isn’t it by tradition for the eldest to get the highest?”
“Yes Mathew is older. And yes by traditional it is meant to be this way.”
“Then, why you?” I persist and I can tell I am pressing because his facial expression tells me he doesn’t like to broach the subject.
He takes a deep breath and sighs, “Well partly because I’d majored in business in college and Matthew chose construction and mostly because Matthew has always hated our father’s business he wanted nothing to do with it and they were never in speaking terms.” He tells me truthfully.
My heart constricts at his pained expression. “Matthew is my half-brother, his mother died when he was born. Our father was already having an affair with my mother and it was a few months after he was born that I had been conceived and so my parents married before I was born.”
“Oh.” I’m rendered speechless as I try to ponder the situation, his family situation. Inside I am elated that he’s sharing this information with me.
“So basically my mother adopted Matthew and raised the both of us, she’s the only mother he’s ever known.” He smiles at that however as soon as the smile came it quickly eradicated.
“Why did Matthew hate your father?”
“My father had expectations for Matthew, originally he’d wanted Matthew to take over the business but Matthew with his own way rebelled and refused. That’s when he’d started being closed off. He’d always instigate a fight with me because to him I had been doing exactly what our father wanted and he’d call me all sorts of names. We brawled a lot. It was different once our father died.” His jaw clenches.
I don’t know why I am becoming overwhelmed with emotion but I feel it, every word he’s sharing with me I can see his childhood as if it were a film playing on theatre and this has wounded him.
I can see the loss in his eyes, the loss of a father as well as his brotherly love. I can tell he loves Matthew but does Matthew love him. Does Matthew even have heart at all?
The moment I’d met him my instinct had detected something detached about him and now finding out this from Jeremy I can see why. But there has to be reasons for all of this, for Matthew’s behaviour then and his behaviour now.
What is his side of things? I wonder.
“I gave you a lot to ponder haven’t I?” Jeremy smiles fleetingly at me. My heart lurches for him and I snuggle closer in his shoulder.
“Just still processing.” I tell him.
“Please, you don’t have to worry about this, I know you are somehow caught up with him but I don’t want you to be.”
“Jeremy, I want to be with you and if it means having to worry about the things that worry you then I will worry, gladly,” I kiss his shoulder.
He logs out of the company and shuts down my laptop and then placing it on top the side bed drawer, he returns to me.
“You are adorable Leyla Levy, thank you but I don’t want you anymore tangled in this as you already are.”
“Yesterday in the car when you said you’ll sort it out. What did you mean by it?” I ignore his remark.
He press his lips tightly together, I move my hand to his face, my fingers gently stroking the same lips.
“If you were concerned that I’ll pummel him to death then let me shed those worries away?” He smirks as he tries to shed some light in this intense conversation. I’m aware that he still hasn’t answered my question.
“Now please can we drop this conversation.” He takes my hand from his face and his thumb massages my knuckles.
“I want to do something more than talk.” He says as he lays me down and starts kissing my neck.
“But before we can stop talking,” he murmurs in my neck.
“I want to take you on a date tomorrow,” his mouth moves to my earlobe and bites it.
The burning sensation from the contacts travels all the way down in the right place.
“A date?” My mouth forms words but my brain has long since disconnected due to the amount of hormones that are now igniting my blood from his hands that are silkily rubbing my waist and thighs.
I’m wearing the silk night gown, another item of clothing from his fund.
“Yes. A date,” he replies while his lips move to my chin and follows the path to my lips.
I giggle before his lips presses against my own in a kiss. Then my giggling stops and the fire churns my innards.
“What’s so funny?” He asks me as he moves the silk gown off of me.
“The fact that we’ve re-arranged the rules of dating.” I tell him.
“We’ve re-arranged them?” I can tell that he is curious but he is more concentrated in the swirls of my br**st. He moves his head in between the swirls and then burying his noise he breathes in.
“Yes!” I say this in a moan; it’s getting hard to concentrate of what I am trying to tell him. He’s very distracting.
“It’s meant to be a date first….” I groan when his teeth begin grazing on my ni**le. “Then…then s*x…then moving in together.”
“Oh Jeez!” the pressure of his mouth on my ni**le is getting too much, I am already convulsing with need.
“Mmmh…” He moans. “I see your point.”
“We’ve had sx first, then I moved in with you, well temporarily, and now you want to…take me on a date,” I shiver as his hands travel to my cup my sx.
“Well, who said we had to always follow the rules?” He says this as he kisses under my ribs and follows the line southward.
His mouth leaves a burning trail on my skin as the sensations hit me in the right places.
“No one.” I answer his rhetorical question.
That’s when I finally surrender to him, finally let him do what he wants with my body because it’s begging him to touch me, it’s begging him to enter me and fill me whole. It’s begging for release. A release only he can deliver.
✍️To be continued ✍️