‘If you don’t want this – if you don’t want me – if you don’t feel like I do – that’s fine,’ I said. ‘If it’s still too soon – if you’re not ready – that’s fine too. But no more playing, Lily. No more half-truths. No more hiding. No more running away. Tell me what you want.’
She paused.
I lived a thousand lives in that pause. I died a thousand deaths. I married her and fought with her and made up with her and started an empire with her. I lost her and found her and married someone else and watched her marry someone else and made brilliant TV with her anyway.
In every second and minute and hour and year and century of that pause, I loved her.
‘I already told you what I want,’ she said.
‘Then you’re going to have to tell me again, because I didn’t hear you.’
‘On the first day. In the hotel. I did my own interview, and I asked myself,Why did you come onMarry Me, Juliet?’
Lily put her hands on my chest. She went up on her tiptoes, leaned in, and bit my bottom lip, hard.
‘I said,’ she whispered, so close her lips were touching mine, the taste of her mixing with the salt of the rain, ‘I came here to get my man.’
We didn’t make it back to my trailer.
We stumbled down the hill, half-running, half-kissing. She shoved me into the hedge and jumped on me, so violently that if we’d been caught on camera it would have looked like she was attacking me.
The sharp sticks of the hedge pierced my clothing, drawing blood, and her arms were locked so tight around me that I could barely breathe, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t get close enough to her. I pushed the sleeves of that wine-red dress off her shoulders and buried my face in her breasts, relishing the feeling of her fingers twined tight in my hair as she cried out.
We slid to the ground, her knees on either side of my lap, skirt of her dress riding up to her waist. ‘I need you,’ she whispered urgently in my ear. ‘Murray, I need you.’
‘Whatever you need,’ I told her, as her fingers fumbled with my belt buckle. ‘Whatever you need, Lily, always.’
‘Your belt. Your belt. Help me with your belt.’
I found the buckle of my utility belt and cast it aside, rummaging in one of the pouches as she got my actual belt undone. ‘Here,’ I said, only just stopping my eyes from rolling back in my head as she unzipped my fly.
She took the condom from me. ‘Oh fuck, I’m shaking,’ she said, trying and failing to open it.
‘We don’t have to do this if you’re not—’
‘Shut up and help me.’
I always listened to Lily Ong.
The rain was pouring down as she sank onto me, the sound of the storm swallowing her cries, keeping them secret from everyone except me. I snaked my fingers through her hair, bobby pins flying, and pulled her head back, burying my face in the curve of her neck, pressing my open mouth to her throat, sinking my teeth into that exposed clavicle.
‘Harder,’ she breathed. ‘I need you closer.’
I tipped her backwards, pressing her into the grass, wet and slippery and cold. She gasped as I thrust hard into her. ‘Like that?’
‘Yes, god, yes, like that,’ she said breathlessly, wrapping her legs around me. ‘I need you, I need you, I need you. Don’t stop.’
‘Never,’ I growled into her ear, and meant it.
21LilyFour years ago
‘Thanks, babe,’ I said, as Jeff put the two bowls of fries down on the table, one catered to human tastebuds, one to Murray’s broken palate.
‘No problem.’ Jeff sat down beside me and slung his arm across my shoulders. ‘Do you need more? Is the lovely Naomi joining you?’
‘No thanks.’ Murray cracked even more pepper on his fries. ‘I don’t think we’re going to be seeing the lovely Naomi again.’
I blinked. ‘What?’
