Текст книги "Swelter"

Автор книги: Nina G. Jones

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

For hours, I held in the tears. The words. The anger. The betrayal. Bobby didn't come to my door. He didn't demand to know why I didn't come. He kept his word that he would leave if I didn't show. And I sat on the bed, my head pulsating with pain, next to a frightened, drunken man determined to self-destruct. I was haunted by a dead friend (if I could still call her that), and a future that was as barren as a tundra.

Bobby could make me feel limitless and swollen with love. But with that same love, he could steal all of my hope and joy. He could make me whole, but with that power he could turn around and leave me in misshapen fragments. Fragments so warped and destroyed that no one else could figure how to put me back together; not myself, not his brother. That's what happened the first time around. Rory did try. But he couldn't fix what Bobby had demolished. No one could.

Rory played record after record, as I sat in a state of numbness. I was growing tired, but still determined to stay awake in this passive standoff with Rory. And so, I found myself in a trance-like state. Staring into nothingness, back to the hell of hollowness, as Rory's raspy, drunk voice sang along to song after song to keep himself awake.

That is until the popping and crackling of the end of a record broke my fog. Rory's slurred voice wasn't crooning in the background. I looked over at him to see if he was going to address the record and saw what, only to me, looked like a shred of hope: Rory sunken into his chair, the bottle of whiskey barely perched on his fingers, the neck of the bottle supported on the floor, dripping the last drops onto the carpet.

I opened my lips and moved them, but only a broken gust of air escaped my throat. I tried again.

“Rory?”

A snore. The most beautiful, glorious sound I had heard all day. The numbness was overtaken by a surge of adrenaline. I was so close to being free, but I knew what it was like to taste freedom, only to immediately become shackled. I slowly slid my legs to the floor and tiptoed out the room. Rory's snoring picked up and I let out a hushed sigh of relief in the hallway. The house undulated as I leaned against the bannister and hurried down the steps, which proved to be more difficult that I had anticipated.

I ran to the kitchen. The keys. Where were the keys? The last I remembered, they were in his pocket when he wrestled me for the phone.

“Come on. Come on . . .” I coached myself as I searched each drawer. Then I remembered, I could hear jingling when Rory was moving around in his clothes before he showered. But I hadn't heard that jingling in hours. They were in his pocket in the heap on the floor. I would have to go back up there.

I filled with dread as I realized I would need to risk going back to the place of my captivity to gain my freedom. But the freedom I was seeking wasn't just outside the door. I needed to get to that motel. That's all I cared about. I had fixated on the idea that Bobby might still be there. I didn't want to run to a neighbor, who might call the police, and hold me up further. Every second was precious.

I steeled myself with a lungful of air and tiptoed back up the stairs. No matter how light I was on my feet, the stairs creaked, forcing me to go even slower and add to the tension. Rory's snores could be heard from the hallway, which gave me a slight assurance. He only snored when he was very drunk. Still, I knew that once I could be in his sights, if he woke up, I would have lost the one shot I had.

I made my way into the room, holding my breath as I knelt down in front of the heap of muddy, wet clothes. Rory shifted in his seat and I clenched my eyes shut, preparing for his outburst. But the symphony of his snores resumed. My shoulders dropped in relief when I realized he was still asleep. I pulled his pants out of the pile, and slipped my hand into an empty pocket. Maybe I had imagined the jingling. Maybe the keys were on his person. Then I slid my hand into the other pocket and felt the cold, jagged metal.

I could have sang at that moment, but instead I bit my lip and slipped the keys out as quietly as I could. I rose to my feet and turned on my heels. Just then, Rory snored so deeply that he began to choke. His eyelids fluttered, and he took a gasp of air. The bottle that was barely perched on his fingers fell out of his hand and made a loud thud. He began to squint. I didn't know if he was waking or if he was still passed out, but this time, I ran. Without regard for noise, or caution.

I raced down the stairs, and halfway down, vertigo kicked in from the concussion. I missed a step and tumbled down to the bottom. The fall wasn't too painful, but it was noisy. And when my eyes met the top of the staircase, there he was: looking down on me.

“Lilly?” he asked, confused and half awake.

“I'm not telling anyone,” I said, as I shot up and made a run for the door. I hoped my words would persuade him not to chase me. In a welcome stroke of luck, my purse rested at the small entry table where I rested it when I walked in and discovered Rory the night before. I snatched it on my way out the door. I banked on the fact that Rory didn't want to be seen so he wouldn't follow me outside.

The streets were quiet as most families were in their homes for dinner. I ran to my car barefoot, my dress stained with blood from my head wound, and hoped no one had seen.

I sped out of our neighborhood and down the county highway to the motel where Bobby had stayed. Tears streaked my face as I finally was able to let out the mix of emotions I had held in for the entire night. I had started with so much hope and peace, swinging from a tree with views of my favorite place in the world. I was going to be Lilly Gale again. The girl with endless possibilities and a passion for life. The girl whose heart belonged to Bobby Lightly.

But I was assaulted with the reminder of who I really was: the woman who made a cowardly choice, and who paid for it with the loss of all the things that made her, her. Whose complete lack of fulfillment was mirrored in a drunk husband who had killed his mistress, her closest friend.

I pressed the gas as hard as I could, nearly spinning out at turns, running stop signs and red lights, until I swerved into the motel driveway, planting my car on a random location in the parking lot. My eyes scanned the place for Bobby's signature pickup, but of the few cars there, none were his.

I fixed my hair in the side view mirror and tried to compose myself before walking in to the front desk.

An older man who had his feet propped up laughed at an episode of I Love Lucy on a small TV behind the counter. The lobby was just as humid and hot as it was outside, but he had a little fan hitting him directly, keeping him from perspiring as much as me.

“Hello.”

He put his feet down and turned to face me.

“Hello, ma'am. Looking for a room?”

“No, um, actually, I am looking for someone who was staying here.” I tried not to sound anxious, but I oozed with restless energy. The sweat soaking through my dress and pouring from my brow didn't help.

“He give you a room number? A name?”

“Ye . . . yes. Well, not a room. But his name is Robert Lightly, goes by Bobby. He's . . . I'd say six feet maybe taller. Brown hair and eyes.”

“Ooooh, yeah. That nice looking fella. Looked like he should be playing football or baseball or something.”

I let out a big sigh. “So he's here?” I asked, wide-eyed and hopeful.

“Oh, no ma'am. I'm sorry. He left a few hours ago. Kept coming over as asking if we had gotten any calls for him—” he stopped. “Was it you?” Before I could answer, his eyes scanned me. As if he hadn't really looked as me before. “Are you okay? You look a little . . . you have some blood—”

“I'm fine. I was just gardening and it's just been a long day. So you said he left?” I asked, clenching the edge of the counter.

“Yes. I'm sorry. He checked out 'bout . . . three, four hours ago. He's gone.”

I thought I would collapse. The finality of those words gripped me, squeezed the air out of my lungs, and tried to drag me down to the floor.

“Do . . . you . . . did he say where he was going?”

“He's a charming fella. We had a talk . . . told me all these places he had been to. He said he . . . ah . . . was headed west. Seemed kind of sad when he left though. Checked out late. That's all I know. I'm sorry.”

He waited. But he didn't wait long enough. He didn't fight for me. He didn't try one last time.

I turned around and trudged to the door.

“Ma'am. You sure you okay? You don't have any shoes . . .” the man's voice drifted into the background as I headed out of the motel.

I was gone. Bobby had left me vacant all over again.

At first I tried to contemplate my next move in the parking lot, but I noticed the manager peeking outside the door at me. So I put the car in gear and drove away.

The sky was a dusty blue as the sun finally disappeared into the horizon. After a few minutes, I found myself sitting in my car at an empty four-way intersection on the county highway. Desolate. Abandoned. Scared.

If I kept going straight, I'd reach town eventually. But there was nothing there for me.

In the distance, on the road adjacent to me, two lights beamed in the distance. They grew larger and brighter as they neared me. I thought I should proceed, but I couldn't put my foot to the gas pedal. I had no place to go. At least here, things were quiet. I rested my head on the steering wheel in utter defeat as the lights from the other car illuminated mine.

But the light didn't disappear. I looked up to wave them along, and I saw a dark silhouette backed by blinding light. Tall, strong, walking towards my car. I squinted against the rays of light that emanated from this person to get a better view. I knew the gait instantly, but it couldn't be. I looked up at the vehicle: a light blue, weathered pickup truck.

I let out an almost hysterical celebratory laugh to myself, but at the same time, I thought I had snapped. This couldn't be. He left hours ago. And I had just learned my life was not a story where the hero rescues me. It was a tragedy where we could never be together.

“Lil? Lil? Is that you?” Bobby asked, shielding his eyes from my headlights. He began to jog over to the car. His voice. Thick like honey. Warm like melted butter. Sultry like velvet. He became more real as my sense of hearing perceived him. I thrust the door open, and stumbled out of the car, half-tripping towards the floor as I ran to him. I couldn't contain the swell of contrasting emotions that came over me as I called out his name and fell into his arms.

Touch. I could feel him all around me. A pillar of strength holding me up.

Smell. Of grass and sun. Of fresh air and salt.

“You're here.” Was all I could muster.

“I'm here, baby,” he whispered into my hair.

“They said you left. I tried so hard to get to you in time,” I panted into his chest, gripping him so tightly I thought I might cut off his oxygen.

“I tried. I waited longer and I tried to respect what you wanted to do – what I thought you wanted – but I got a few hours out and I turned around. I was just heading to you. I can't believe I just found you out here . . . I'm not letting you go this time.”

Finally feeling secure, my chest heaved uncontrollably as I cried against him.

“Lil, what's going on?” He stepped out of my grip to look me up and down. “What the hell happened? Are you okay? You said you tried to get to me?”

I didn't know where to start. How to tell him all the things that happened in the short time we had been apart. It felt like I had lived an entire life without him, coming back to him changed by what I saw in Rory.

“Bobby . . .” I choked through tears. “Rory was home. I went to the lake and I came back and he was there. Drunk. A mess. Barbie's dead. And he drove her into the river. They've been having an affair. And he's hiding and he wouldn't let me go. And I tried to call you, but I slipped and—”

Bobby gripped my face and grounded me with his warm eyes. “Lil. Lil. Slow down.”

I winced when his fingers grazed the tender spot, my head still throbbing from the fall.

“What's this?” he asked, running his thumb across the gash. “Did he do this to you?”

“It was an accident. We were fighting over the phone.”

But I saw a look in Bobby's eyes that was foreign to me. Bobby's eyes were warm sunsets. Lemonade on a creaky porch during sunset. Laughter on a tire swing. A refreshing breeze just as you stepped out of the lake on a scalding summer day.

But now his eyes were hostile. They were both hollow and full. Scorching and frigid. Focused and distant.

“Bobby . . . Bobby . . . no,” I commanded, knowing what was to come next. “I don't want you to go back there. I just want to leave. I have my purse. Let's just go and never come back.”

“Lil, I need to go over there. I need to see my brother.” The commitment in his tone told me begging was a losing battle, but it didn't stop me.

“No. Please. He's got a gun and he's drunk!” I pleaded.

Bobby snickered. “He won't shoot me. He wouldn't dare, Lil.”

“I don't want you to leave again.”

“Lil, he's lost control. And . . .” Bobby tensed visibly with a rage I didn't know he could summon. “. . . he should have never touched you. I can't just let that go. I won't.”

“He's desperate.”

“You're telling me, he killed Barbie.”

“Not on purpose. He crashed the car and left her. He panicked.”

Bobby shook his head, the rage intertwined with a deep sadness. “I don't know what the fuck happened to him. I should have never . . .” Bobby stopped himself. We had told ourselves that line countless times and learned by now, there was no winning. It was a waste of breath. We did what we shouldn't have. We let each other go years before and we were here now. That's all that mattered.

Bobby braced my shoulders. “Lil. Go back to the motel. Get a room. I'll be back.”

“No. No!” I shouted.

“Let me take care of my brother. It's my turn. This is my fault.” Bobby took a breath, softening his tone. “Lil, I need to see him. He needs his brother and he needs to understand some things. Sometimes you need your brother to hug you. Other times you need your brother to set you straight.”

“Then I have to come with you.”

“No. I need to see him. Alone. Brother to brother.”

“I keep feeling like something terrible is going to happen.”

“It already has,” Bobby lamented. He pushed my hair back and kissed me fiercely, pressing his forehead to mine. “I'm never letting you go again. You understand? I am never making that mistake. You and I were always supposed to be together. I will never leave you. I don't care anymore about anything but that.”

I nodded. Bobby was kind, he was loving, but he was a man who did things when he made up his mind and I couldn't stop him.

“I promise I'll be back,” he said, sliding into his pickup and driving towards the house. I watched as the lights of his truck disappeared into the distance.

I think Bobby knew I would follow him anyway. He hoped I wouldn't, but he knew. Because Bobby promised he wouldn't leave me again. Well, I wasn't going to leave him either.

I trailed behind just enough so that Bobby wouldn't spot me behind him on the dark road. When I pulled up to the house. Bobby's truck was parked, and a single light was on upstairs. The front door was unlocked, and as soon as I opened it, I heard a crash upstairs.

“Bobby?” I called out, slamming the front door behind me.

I raced upstairs to the bedroom and found Bobby pressing his forearm against Rory’s neck, pinning his brother against the wall.

“. . . Never touching her again.” —The end of the sentence I walked in on.

Rory twisted and grunted under Bobby's hold. Rory had a fresh cut under his eye where I assume Bobby hit him.

“Stop it!” I cried. I didn't want Bobby to do this. I didn't want him to become ugly for me.

Bobby did a double take at the door. “Lilly, dammit. Why didn't you just go back?”

“I'm not leaving you,” I replied. “Just let him go. You proved your point. Look at him.”

Bobby looked back at his brother, studying him for a moment, and then released him. Rory collapsed, still drunk and now beaten up.

“Get whatever you need from here,” Bobby panted.

Rory rolled onto all fours and let out a few hacking coughs. “Where are you going? She's my wife . . . you can't take her.”

“It's over Rory,” I said.

“You're helping her?” Rory asked. Still oblivious to the betrayal. His trust for Bobby so deep, he couldn't even conceive it.

Bobby looked down. “She's coming with me. For good.”

“For good . . .?” Rory's voice trailed. His bloodshot green eyes grew in disbelief. “Wait . . . wait . . . you have to be fucking kidding me.” He got up to one knee.

“Stay down,” Bobby commanded.

Rory labored his way to his feet. “My wife? My fucking wife!” Rory shouted.

“She's Lilly. She doesn't belong to you. You and I knew her way before she ever had a title. But you forgot that. You forgot who she was.”

“You're my blood,” Rory sneered.

“I'm sorry, but you had your chance. And you blew it. Many times,” Bobby replied. “How about Barbie? Did you think about your wife then?”

I raced through my closet as the brothers battled. I wanted to leave as quickly as we could. I didn't want to stay around for any more arguing. I felt like the countdown was still ticking. That things weren't over yet.

Rory sniggered to himself. “Oh god. You guys were fucking those two weeks at the lake house? When you said you would be up there fixing it, huh? I fucking trusted you! How long? Huh? How fucking long?” He looked over Bobby's shoulder, his gaze fixed on me. “Lilly? Tell me!”

I stopped packing and in took a deep inhale. “A long time.”

I watched Rory struggle with the mental math. “Before he left?” he asked me, as if Bobby wasn't in the room.

I nodded.

Rory laughed incredulously to himself. “Before we married?”

I nodded.

“Oh my god,” he crouched down and buried his hands in his head. “How the hell was I so blind? You two. Always at each other. I wondered why you were so angry when he left. Why I could find a way to forgive him and you were still so bitter. Is this why you never wanted me after we married?”

I looked down shamefully at my belongings. If there was a way I could have done this without hurting Rory, I would. Even after learning of his affair with Barbie, I didn’t enjoy this feeling. This wasn’t a competition to see who could hurt the other more.

Rory stood up tall and lurched towards me, but Bobby stood in his way. “My brother, Lilly? My fucking brother. The only family I have left!”

The tears flowed as he said those final words. Because I wasn't just taking Rory's brother away from him. I was taking Bobby's too.

“I'm sorry,” I cried. “I tried. I tried to make us work.”

He spit on the floor. “You both can go to hell.”

Bobby looked down to the floor as he took the blow of those words. Then he forced himself to look towards Rory’s raging brow. “You'll always be my brother,” Bobby promised.

“Well, I'd hate to see what happens to your enemies if this is how you treat your brother, you son of a bitch.”

I latched my suitcase shut. “Let's go.”

“So just like that? You're just leaving me here? No car. On my own?”

“I'm leaving my car here, but we won't help you with Barbie. Take some responsibility for what you did. Turn yourself in,” I implored.

Rory looked back at Bobby. “And you. You fucking snake. You fucking left, you let us think you were dead. You came back and disrupted our lives. I never questioned you. I just welcomed you back with open arms. And you took everything! You took everything!”

Rory's rage resurfaced as he jumped on Bobby.

“Stop!” I called out. But the brothers were wrestling in the upturned bedroom. It wasn't long before Bobby was on top of Rory, pinning him down. “You fucking killed a woman today. You held your wife captive. You hurt her. You are lucky that all I did was punch you in the face,” he snarled. “If I stand up, and you come for me again. I'm going to have to drop you, Rory.”

Rory wrangled under his grip. But against his sober, and more battle-experienced brother, he was no match.

“Fine,” he submitted through gritted teeth.

Bobby stood cautiously. “I'm giving you 24 hours to find an attorney and get your affairs in order. If you haven't turned yourself in . . . we will. You can't run away from this one. It's only a matter of time before they discover it was you.”

Rory grimaced and gripped the back of his neck as he nodded, agreeing to the terms.

“Ready?” Bobby asked, as he half-turned to me, keeping an eye on his brother.

“Yes.”

Bobby stepped aside for me to exit first. I looked over at Rory, my puffy eyes saturated with tears. Even when you want to leave the past behind, even when you want to run from it and never look back, it hurts to look it in the eyes and say goodbye. “Take care of yourself,” I said, pulling my bag off the bed to head to the door.

I walked through the slim space between the bed and the Lightly men when a hand clenched around my ankle and stopped me in my tracks. “Don't go Lilly. I'm sorry. You're right. I was an ass. I'll do better. Don't leave me alone here. Haven't I always taken care of you? Bobby doesn't know how to stay in one place.”

I looked up at Bobby, whose glare had grown as hard as steel. I looked back down at Rory, weak, sloppy, desperate. “Maybe you tried, but it was never supposed to be us.” I kicked my leg away and marched out of the room without looking back, the tears I had saved for Rory finally swimming down my cheeks.

Bobby didn't follow me directly. I waited just outside the room.

“You are one selfish son of a bitch, you know that, Bobby? You broke mom and dad's hearts when you dropped out of school, and then just up and left, sending them a letter here and there if they were lucky. You think I didn't want to drop everything and travel? You think I wanted all the responsibility? But one of us had to be here. One of us had to grow up! We all can't just run away from our responsibilities! You just do whatever you want. Take whatever you want. Do whatever makes you feel good. Everyone else be damned!”

Rory snickered to himself, before continuing. “When people would ask about you, I would defend you. Tell them, ‘That's just Bobby. He's a great guy. He just does things differently.’ But you only care about yourself. You do what you want to do . . . everyone else is left to deal with the consequences.”

I waited impatiently, hoping Bobby would just let the words slide off his back and leave. But he wouldn't go so quietly.

“You'll always be a victim of your circumstances, Rory. For once, just take responsibility for the mess you're in. Don't blame Lilly or Barbie or me. Just look around you and see that you chose this life.”

“We can't all choose the easy way out,” Rory sniped.

Bobby snickered incredulously. “The easy way? You think leaving everything I knew behind was easy? You think I wanted to go the way I did? I did it so that you and Lilly could be free of me. I stood there and watched the woman I loved marry you. My insides ripped apart and I stood there with a smile because I wanted you to be happy! So did Lil!” He took a deep breath. “I was alone out there. I couldn't look at mom and dad knowing what I had done. And I have paid for my sins, Rory. You have no idea the things I have seen out there.”

“You didn't do me any favors,” Rory muttered.

There was lull. Though silent, regret, and sadness blared through the walls.

“I love you, brother. Even when it doesn't seem like it,” Bobby said. Pained was laced through his words.

“I know, you bastard. But don't ever come back,” Rory replied. “We're done.”

“I know,” Bobby answered.

Bobby emerged from the bedroom solemnly. He placed a hand on the small of my back. “Let's go, Lil,” he uttered.

We stepped out of the house that had been my prison for seven years, and into the unknown, unlimited world. Together.

The drive to the motel was not a great celebration. It was still; somber. A great sacrifice had been made. We had to slaughter the living to get to the feast. The carcasses of our principles, loyalty, and familial bonds lay bloodied on the altar. There were no cheerful hugs, or jumping for joy. Our drive was moments of silence, stringed together, in honor of the things we surrendered to get what we needed.

Bobby pulled into the motel parking lot.

“We should get you to a hospital.”

“No, I'm fine. I don't want to see another person today. It's been 24 hours. I'm still here. I'm fine.”

“Lil . . .”

“Please, I just want to get inside. I'm exhausted.”

Bobby sighed in concession. I think he used all his fight in the bedroom with Rory. “Fine. Stay here while I get the room.”

Bobby came back in minutes with the key, and we entered our small, dimly lit motel room. It didn't have the trappings of my beautiful two-story house, but it was a palace. Because I was free. I was the master of my life now. And I had the perfect accomplice at my side.

I slipped off my dress, wrinkled, damp and bloody from the past 24 hours, as Bobby brought in our bags. I stood there in my slip, watching him. His white t-shirt, wet with sweat as it stuck to his shoulders and chest. His knuckles cut and swollen from his battle with Rory, his hair a tousled mess, his cheeks flush with heat and untapped energy.

It wasn't real. I didn't have him. I was destined to pine for him. To live a life incomplete.

I closed my eyes, drawing in a long breath as I leaned against the wall behind me. Grounding myself to this spot. I pulled the pins out of my disheveled hair and let it collapse around me.

Everything ached. My spirit and bones were weary.

The door to the motel room shutting forced my eyes open. Bobby stood there, watching me in taut silence. I knew he was hurting. No matter how he reasoned this to himself. No matter how much this result justified the means, he had to leave his brother behind.

We stood there for a while, just eyes on eyes. Taking in the other. The reality of this new world. The one we had dreamed of for so long that we had begun to think we had never deserved it. That our punishment for even wanting it was that we would never have it.

Bobby walked up to me trepidatiously, like I might startle if he moved too fast. Then he was there, his long shadow blanketing me.

He looked me up and down, pushing the hair off my shoulder, kissing it. Then, his lips found the bruise on my forehead. “I'm never gonna let anything like that happen to you ever again.”

“I know,” I choked out against his chest.

My slip clung to me in this muggy motel room. Bobby had seen me in every state, but I felt dirty.

“I should shower.”

“You're perfect,” he breathed against my ear, the words sending a chill down my neck. “How are you feeling?” he asked tenderly.

“A little sore. I fell running out of the house.”

Bobby ran his finger underneath the straps of my slip and peeled it away from my body. He ran his bruised and bloodied fingers along the slopes and divots, the slim bones and the soft crests. I watched him, mesmerized by his gentleness after such a brutal display of protection.

Small bruises had begun to develop from the fall and he came to his knees to softly kiss each one. I bit my lip to fight back the swell of tears. I was so full after being empty for so long, I couldn't bottle all the emotions his tenderness awakened in me.

Bobby stood up against me as I leaned back on the wall. He buried his nose into my neck and rasped, “I can't believe I get to have you.”

We had been in the shadows so long. Though there was nothing truer than how we felt about each other, it had been relegated to a dirty secret. A lie.

But now we could bask in the sun. In the light of a love so pure, it existed before we ever understood it. Before the world could ever taint it.

A tear escaped my eye as he grazed his lips along my neck, jawline and to my mouth. The kiss was so soft, I wasn't sure if our lips even touched.

“Lil, the girl who was beautiful even when she tried hard not to be,” he recited wistfully.

I smiled through the tears. Those words that had squeezed the joy from my heart years ago now filled it like a cornucopia.

“Let me make the pain go away,” my lover murmured as he flitted kisses along my glistening collarbone. I wondered if he meant mine, or his.

The pale orange light glowed against him as I reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it away from his sun-drenched body. Shadows settled in the vales of his muscles, glossy with perspiration as his lips traced a path down my breasts, my tummy, to the inside of my thigh.

He moaned as he tasted me. Any insecurities I had about the state I was in melted away with the heat of his mouth latched to me. Bobby slid one leg over his shoulder as his tongue drew trails along the sensitive, ripe softness.

I gripped his messy, silky hair in my fingers as my hips snaked against his mouth, lost in the pleasures of the flesh. Bobby's lips and tongue could make me forget a house was burning down around me.

Sweat trickled from my temple, along the peaks of my bust and down the underside of my breast—a collection of the external and internal heat meeting, turning me into searing flames. Bobby was the accelerant.

My hips snaked faster against his tongue, as he used it to slip in and out of me; sex with his mouth.

He moaned as if he was drinking from a flute of the sweetest champagne.

One of my hands left his hair and looked for an anchor as my legs grew weak from the pulsing thrill that ran along them. I felt around, only finding the lampshade and gripping it. The light around us shifted as the shade tilted, leaving us in darkness.

Bobby pulled away for a moment. “You taste so good.” He lapped his tongue all the way up the engorged lips, tasting the cream, and let the tip of his tongue swirl along the swollen bud.

I let out a weak cry.

He slid two of his thick fingers inside of me, curving them and caressing me. While his lips and tongue did the devil's work just outside of it. The pleasure was too carnal to be from god.

Like his mouth was the trigger, a bomb exploded inside of me, taking me down all at once. My supporting leg gave out from under me, but his strong shoulders and hand held me up. The lamp I used for leverage slipped sideways and fell to the floor, beaming unfiltered light on us. I reached for the wall behind me, looking for something to remind me I was still on this planet. That I hadn't died and gone to heaven or hell or wherever something this bad could feel this spectacular.