Leah chased a cloud of foam with a cupped hand, drawing it closer to her. The tattoo at her collarbone kept playing peek-a-boo, so sexy.
He sat up a bit, sopping curls plastered to his shoulders. His long legs stretched underwater on either side of hers. He bent them, careful not to touch her but damn, how he wanted to.
“Rugelach for your thoughts…oh wait. No rugelach.” He sent a splash toward her, causing a shriek. “So the doctor is off your list?”
“He was never really on it. Doctors aren’t my type. Long hours, God complex, married to their profession…”
The same could be said for musicians, he thought grimly.
“Worst of all, no leather pants.”
She bit back a smile, sliding toward him, hooking an arm around his calf. He leaned to meet her mouth, hungry and hot. She fully initiated the kiss, picking up where his lips had left off last night, that single kiss by the bunkbeds.
“I didn’t tell you sooner…” Her wet fingers met his soapy shoulders, sliding into his hair with her nails. “…but I wanted to.” He growled against her, lips trailing down her chin, her throat. He didn’t need any excuses. She tipped her head, upsetting the balance of the thick, twisted towel securing her hair. Avi caught it before it tumbled into the water, tossing it aside.
“There she is,” he breathed. The damp ringlets fell around her face as her gaze locked on his. “I remembered those curls, even if I forgot other things.”
He wound a long curl around his finger, traced it across the tattoo, down to her breast. She gasped and her nipple instantly pearled. Bubbles unveiled her slowly, as she leaned into his touch.
“Wanna see my room again?” he whispered, and she nodded.
He thought about how he’d learned about sex, his dad not even bothering to give him the talk but instead, a book about intimacy from a Jewish lens. Talk about letters dancing on the page. It had been a word salad, tossing around in his dyslexic brain for days before he finally just asked Miri. They could talk about anything, no holds barred.
She’d told him“Always be attentive and responsive to her needs. I’m talking emotional and intimate. It’s actually a mitzvah to please her first, Velvel.”
And like the good Jewish boy that he was, that’s exactly what he did.
Leah watched Avi sleep for a while. His brow smooth, lips parted.He deserves a little sleep.
They had tumbled in towels toward his bedroom. Drying each other off became another way to explore, lavishing attention on each other’s hot skin.
“I’m not going to last long, not in here, not with you,” he’d warned, letting her push him against the sheets as she traced every tattoo with her fingers and her mouth.
Tobin’s wallet had been like a magic genie’s lamp once again as he pulled a condom from it, laughing when he assured her he had checked the date on it.
“Let’s be sure to thank him later.”
“Much later. I need my Mahjong Muse on the altar of my shrine.”
Mahjong Muse.
And that was it: her business name. It was perfect, and she couldn’t wait to tell Jasmine. But she happily would wait, for now, as he’d pulled her on top of him.
Her “ideas guy” had had bigger plans for her.
Now, she set her alarm for a fifteen-minute catnap before turning to him again. It was almost imperceptible in the dim light of his room, but she caught tiny movement under closed eyelids. The even keel of his breathing. Her fingers climbed lightly up his chest, into that dark thicket of hair, and she settled her cheek against his shoulder.
Chapter Twenty-One
His Aunt Miri had once told him, when someone who has passed away visits you in a dream, don’t expect them to speak. If they do, you are just having a dream. If they don’t, it’s a visitation.
Avi dreamed of walking with Miri through Sataf forest, near Jerusalem.
No talking.
She smiled, and he heard it all in a rush.
In his ears, in his own head, in his voice.
