And now he was becoming concerned. In the past, although Jerry was really at a loss as to where Loren may have gone, and exactly why she might have gone there, he had his suspicions. Of course he'd ask her where she was, but it would be of no use. Loren wouldn't answer him; she would hardly speak to him now, much less disclose where she had been and with whom! Anyway he was becoming lonelier than ever, and a little tipsy on this second night. Where the hell was she? He could discern her scent off her pillow in bed; he could hear her humming along with the discs in her CD player; he could taste her in the cocktail snacks she liked with her martinis. He stood before the eight by ten photograph of the two of them on her bureau and smelled her perfume wafting from her closet. But she wasn’t there. He stared at the pair of worn stockings she’d left him night before last. Jerry looked inside Loren’s open closet. On the floor he could see the several pair of flip-flops she’d recently. He pulls away, but there's a smile on his face, I love it when a plan works out. He stands up and takes my hand and pulls me down the hall into one of the empty rooms. I feel kind of dumb for not realizing that we're in a building full of beds earlier, but I'm happy he did. He pulls off his shirt and I like what I see: a slim body with no more than an average amount of muscle, and slightly above average abs. I run my hands over his stomach; I do love some good abs. He puts both his hands on my hips and starts moving them up the bottom of my ribs, then to my bra, pulling the top of my scrubs with them until he pulls my top over my head and I'm left standing there with just my bra on my top half. I reach a hand behind my back and unhook it, then let it fall to the floor. I move forward and grab hold of his belt, his 6'2" frame towering over my 5'7" frame. I look up into his eyes as I undo his belt and his pants. I let them go and they drop to the floor around his ankles. I get down.
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