“I’m not seeing you alone. I’m there next to you. And this is our usual routine.”
“Oh, even better,” I said. “You being next to me does something to me.”
“Yeah, me too,” he said quietly. “Stop distracting me. Let me see. You usually wake up before me, because you tire me out.”
“Ha!”
“You wake up, and you stretch, every bone and muscle in your back alive with the motion. You have a beautiful back. Then you slip off to the bathroom. You go in smelling like me but come out smelling like roses and mint. You’re usually dressed in a leotard and your legs are usually covered in stockings that look like they were knitted.”
“Ah. You’re finally getting the hang of the lingo. It’s no longer frilly wear.”
“Here comes my favorite part of the morning.”
“Oh, I can’t wait to hearthis.”
“You wake me up with a kiss. Though sometimes I pretend to be asleep to watch you do it.”
I made a sweet and low kissing noise through the phone.
“Then you tell me to watch. ‘Brando,’” he said softly, trying to mimic my voice. “‘I want to show you something.Wake up’—”
“—‘Mon ange,’” I filled in the blank. “At this point in time, your hair is a holy mess, not yet slicked back.” His hair was longer in the middle, cut shorter on the sides, and when he woke up, he reminded me of a wild beast that had a long night on the hunt. “You run your hands through it, trying to wake yourself up. Your eyes are warm, as sinful as melting chocolate, and lowered, like when we—”
“Yeah. Then you dance for me. Some Janet Jackson song, usually.” He became as quiet as if he had hung up. “I hear it now. In the background.”
“I let it play during the night. I used to listen to this song when we were apart. It reminded me of you.”
“Change it.”
“Not yet. I’m too lazy to get up. And the me that’s without you is being reminded of our mornings.”
I couldn’t see it, but I sensed his grin.
“I can see you dancing, your hips swaying back and forth. Your arms moving slowly, so slowly that I imagine them barely touching my skin, like wings. Your feet practically floating over the floor.” I could hear his breath through the phone. “You spin for me, and it’s like you’re spinning a spell. Your eyes—”
“What about my eyes?” I whispered.
“I can’t escape them.”
“Mmm,” I hummed softly. “The hunter becomes enchanted by the innocent prey.”
“Then tell me what I always do, baby. After you dance for me.”
“Not alwaysafterI dance. Sometimes you wakemeup first.”
“Because you’re so relaxed then—so warm and so soft, like cream. Like you melted overnight.” His voice became rougher, a bit lower. “Tell me what I do to you, Scarlett.”
“You make love to me.”
“Then you smell like me for the rest of the day.Mine.”
I flung and kicked the covers off. I needed cool air. My skin felt like it had been singed by lava.
“You sound like a phone sex operator,” I mumbled.
He laughed until his chest vibrated with a growl. “Talk dirty to me,” he said, bringing his voice down a bit.
“Now you sound like Cerise,” I said.
