Page 69 of Only and Forever
Tallulah frowns, turning my way. “I don’t... I don’t know what you mean by that.”
“What do you mean you don’t know what I mean?”
“I mean,” she says impatiently, “I don’t know how I would... describe that happening.”
I stare at her, trying to piece together understanding from the fragments she’s giving me. Tallulah said flat out she had sex with that asshole Clint, for years, so I’m not sure why she doesn’t know what I’m referring to, unless...
Unless they never indulged in postcoital warm fuzzies.
I am both ridiculously pleased by the thought that Tallulah unromantically banged his lights out, and thoroughly annoyed that I have to think about Tallulah blowing that jerkwad’s mind in bed for years, even if they never cuddled afterward.
“Viggo?” Tallulah frowns up at me. “You okay?”
I feel the tension in my face, my brow drawn tight, my jaw hard. I force my expression into a breezy smile. “Yeah. All good. Just thinking. I make weird faces when I do it.”
“I’ll say,” she mutters.
“So... I think I have to show you what I mean. Is that okay?”
She shrugs. “Fine by me.”
“Turn around, then, if you please.”
She does.
I take a step back, at the threshold of my hallway into the kitchen. “He walks in, looks at her. Insert creepy,Gone Girl–homage thought.”
Tallulah smiles. I catch it in her profile, just a peek of it lifting the apple of her cheek.
“How you have it now, he thinks about their sex, then moves on to helping with dinner. But if we stretch out this moment by revisiting their desire, reflecting on their intimacy...” I cross the kitchen, stopping right behind her. “He comes here. Right to her.”
Tallulah swallows. “Okay. Then what?”
“Then...” I swallow, too. “Then he touches her.”
She’s silent for a beat, before she says, “Show me?”
I stare down at her, the back of her neck, fine ice-blue hairs kissing her tan skin, fallen out of her bun. I breathe in and smell that rich yet subtle perfume of hers—something warm and luxurious, softened at the edges by the scent of flowers. “You sure?”
She nods. “Yes.”
I bring my hand to her neck, fingertips trailing down her vertebrae. Goose bumps bloom across her skin. “He touches her... gently,” I whisper. “He’s just been satisfied, right? There’s nothing desperate in his touch.”
“Makes sense.” Her voice is quieter than normal, breathier.
“But just because he’s had her doesn’t mean he doesn’t want her again, doesn’t feel that fundamental desire for her, as steady as his pulse.”
Tallulah blows out a slow breath. “And then what?”
“Then...” I bend, just enough, until my nose brushes her earlobe. Tallulah shivers. My hand curls around her waist and she leans into me, her head falling back, a satisfyingthumpagainst my breastbone.
My body’s hot, aching. I know this is getting away from me, but it feels like all I do is try to smother the fire inside me that burns for Tallulah, and for once, being able to give it air feels so fucking good.
It’s gratifying, too, knowing what I know, what she’s admittedto me—that I’m not alone in this. That Tallulah burns just as much as I do.
“He holds her,” I whisper, nuzzling behind her ear, my hand growing bolder across the soft curve of her stomach, bringing her tight against me. “The knife would fall from her hand, because it feels—”
“So good,” she whispers.