Page 109 of Only Lovers in the Building

“Yes, beautiful?”

“I touch myself while watching your lectures.”

He dropped to his knees between her legs. Eyes shining, he said, “Tell me you’re lying.”

“That would be a lie.”

He lowered his head and pressed his lips to her inner thigh. “Should we discuss Hemingway while we do this?”

“That won’t be necessary. I have that lecture cued up for later tonight.”

Ben playfully bit her. Laughing, he said, “All right, well . . . Show me what you do.”

“I can’t! It’s private.”

“Yes, you can.”

“I can’t.”

“Lily, give me your hand.”

“Ben, I would sooner die.”

“Look who’s prudish now.”

She was no prude, not in theory, anyway. Real life was a different matter. With Ben specifically, it was a challenge. Sex wasn’t performance art with him. She was vulnerable and open, and that was scary.

“It’s not like that,” she said. “I have . . . an assistive device.”

“There are toys involved?”

“Just the one small vibrator!”

“We’ll have to do without it,” he said. “Give me your hand.”

It was written somewhere, maybe in the stars hidden in the partly cloudy sky, that Lily could not refuse Ben anything. She reached out and touched his face. He kissed her palm then brought her fingertips to her center. “Lie back,” he said. “Now, show me.”

With those words, he lit a fire in her. The smoke-induced delirium chased away any inhibition she harbored. Lily slid two fingers over her tender nub and drew slow, languid circles, sending tremors down her legs. Eyes closed, she drew her stomach muscles tight and focused on the ever-expanding whirlpool of sensation. Strong waves of pleasure washed over her and retreated, leaving her breathless.

“Look at you, my sweet Lily,” he said. “Never hide from me again.”

Lily heard Ben’s voice in the distance. The waves had taken her far offshore. She was lost to him until he edged her fingers away with his tongue. Lightning struck. Her skin burned hot, the earlier swim only a memory. She gasped when he cupped her bottom and drew her to him. Her legs wrapped around him, undulating to match the strokes of his tongue. Then his fingers were buried inside her. His voice was in her ear, telling her how nothing was private between them, not anymore. “Tell me you feel the same,” he said. She could not produce a sound. Her breath was erratic. She bit back every sigh, every cry of anguish that crept up her throat. Soon, her efforts were not enough. Waves of pleasure crashed over her. Ben took her mouth and swallowed her cries. Then he held her shivering body until it was all quiet at sea.

God only knew what time it was when they packed up their things to leave the clubhouse. “How do I look?” she asked.

“Like you’ve had good sex.”

“Ben!”

“It’s okay. There’s no one out there.”

“You never know!”

She peeked through the curtain enclosure. The pool deck was as still and calm as ever. Ben smoothed her hair and kissed her. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”