I raise my arms to pull a hundred pins and braids out of my hair. My arms are out of the way, and you use the opening to kiss my cheek, my neck. Your hands follow, landing on my collarbone. You drag your thumb across it, and down. You find the zipper to my wedding dress on the side, and pull it. I’m still not done with my hair. I admit I’m going super slow, but it’s starting to fall out of its arrangement. You pull the dress down until it pools at my feet. Your hands find the edges of my underwear. It’s all straps and rings. My hair falls totally. You step back and look at me. I feel beautiful. You’ve made me feel like that all day, looking at me like that in your black tux. I say, ‘What do you want, sir?’ And you say—”
“I say this,” he interrupts, even with his rasp of a voice, I stop. “I say, ‘tomorrow I’m going to destroy you. I’m going to mark your body and ruin your mind. By noon, you won’t know whether to laugh or cry. But tonight? Tonight, I will revere you. I will build an altar of myself. I will frame you in stars.’”
“God, you make me crazy when you talk like that.”
“There’s a blanket on the grass. I lead you to it. You lie down.”
“The night is clear. The stars are out.”
“My lips on your body trace the story of my love.”
My eyelashes fluttered on his cheek. “I try to touch you, but you won’t let me. God, you’re still in that tuxedo.”
“I took it off.”
“When?”
“When I say, Goddess.”
I sighed, going with him. He was naked. “You’re perfect. Shaped for me.”
He swallowed thickly. “I kiss your ankles. Pull your legs apart. I draw a map to your sex with my tongue. I feel overtaken. In my guts, I need to yank you, pound you with my dick, make you scream and beg. But I hold back. Kiss behind your knees. I control myself for you.”
“I want you, you’re all I can think about.”
“I’m losing steam.”
His eyes filling my visions, red rims and pale skin, soaked in exhaustion, he needed me to create this for him, for us. I took a deep breath and kissed his cheek, letting my lips linger on him. “Your lips inside my thighs. Your tongue finding its way to me. You kiss my clit. You finger my ni**les. You’re touching me just enough to drive me crazy. Your mouth works between my legs. Sucking and twitching. I arch my back. I’m so close when you stop. And you know it too. You pull me to you. We kiss. I taste my pu**y on you.”
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I turn you around. We’re both on our knees. Your back is against me. I push you up, spread you. I put my dick in you and you push down.”
“You’re so hard. And I’m so wet. And it’s so easy isn’t it? Wasn’t it always so easy for you to put your c**k in me? Like you were meant to be there.”
“I pull your head back, until you’re looking at the sky. Hold your face up. My hand is on your throat.”
“Your other hand slips between my legs. You touch where we’re joined.”
“I look at the stars with you.”
“I move with you. I’m safe under the sky. I feel you everywhere on me. I’m filled with you. I tell you I’m coming.”
“I say, ‘yes.’”
We stayed silent for a minute, deeply joined, as if he were inside me, expanding together, into each other, fully unified, merged, consciousness where our bodies should have been.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“Please stay with me.”
I didn’t answer for a long time, I just kept my face buried in his neck and listened to his breathing. At some point, I was going to have to leave and meet with Declan. If not to get the whens and wherefores, then to kick his ass for not holding up his end of the deal, but how could I?
“Your family’s going to want to see you,” I said.
“You ever want sisters?” he asked.
“Always.”
“You’re welcome.”
I laughed. He smiled. “They’re outside. I’m going to take care of some business and come back, okay?”
“Stay.”
I kissed his cheek. It felt warmer than it did before our pretend wedding night, and I lingered there.
“I’ll be back.”
“Stay.”
“I can’t. I promise—“
“Stay.”
I backed up and let his hand slip from mine.
CHAPTER 40.
MONICA
When I walked out, I must have been a sight. The bright lights of the hall hurt my eyes, and my hair was a rat’s nest pressed in the shape of Jonathan’s fingers.
Eileen approached. “How is he?”
I didn’t say anything. There were doctors to report facts to her, all I could say was something like, “he can barely tell me how he’s going to f**k me, because he’s dying,” and that wouldn’t be helpful, least of all me. Eileen passed me, then Sheila, then Margie and Deirdre. Leanne in Asia. Carrie far away. Theresa in some kind of trouble. Fiona, entourage-free for once, scuttled down the hall and blew past me.
Declan drew up the rear and whispered in my ear. “Fifteen minutes to a fire drill on the second floor. They don’t move brain dead patients for drills. He’ll be alone. Staff’s been arranged. Cops are a wild card. Good luck.” He winked at me with real élan, as if this was just delicious, and as much as I’d doubted Jonathan’s fear and hatred of his father, in that moment, I knew it wasn’t completely unfounded.
CHAPTER 41.
MONICA
I had fifteen minutes.
I felt very far away, my body a borrowed suit, my mind a blunt instrument, my soul in a room full of family, curled up next to a dying man. Fifteen minutes. This was time to kill. I couldn’t sit still. I went to the vending machines and stared at cheerful paper packets of synthetics, crisp under the unappetizing blue light. A refrigerator-sized box of cola containers, eleven buttons, all yielding the same drink, I felt like an alien standing in front of something new and unknown. People about to commit murder in movies seemed so sharp and aware in ways that were useful. They could kick and punch with lightning reflexes. This wasn’t like that at all. This was more like walking under water.
Ten minutes.
More than anything, I wanted to rest. The thought of finding a waiting room and falling asleep on a couch seemed very appealing. I’d sleep through my opportunity, and none of it would be my fault. Jonathan would die tomorrow or the next day, but I’d be okay. I’d go to work on Tuesday, and just go on like I had before. Except for never touching him again, or hearing his voice, or kneeling before him like the slave I was, all the other chunks of my life would be the same.