“Women don't always want to be treated like we're delicate, or rare, or somehow more precious. We want to be wanted. We want sex to be just as raw as you do.”
“The way you seem nervous
makes me think you don’t know that I’m in love with you.”
“When I say ‘I love you’ I don’t mean that I love what being with you does for my career, or I love how often you’re willing to shag. I mean I love you. I love making you laugh, and seeing how you react to things, and getting to know the little things about you. I love who I am with you, and I’m trusting you not to hurt me.”
“Because the whole British thing you have going on makes me want to do very wicked things to your mouth.”
“Do you ever think about how weird it is that we run into each other all the time?" he asked, eyes unreadable
"No," I admitted. "Isn't that the way the world works? In a city of millions you'll always see the same person."
"But how often is it the person you most want to see?”
“If a woman wanted a man to think of her constantly, she should tell him he could only have her once a wee and bam - concentration blown.”
“I love you, too." Click. "But I'm terrified."
He lowered the camera, eyes on me.
"I didn't want to fall in love with you,' I said.
He took a step closer. "If it makes you feel any better, you put up a very impressive fight." He didn't put the camera down when he stepped forward again to kiss me. He just moved his hand to the side and cupped my face with the other, pressing his mouth to mine. "I'm scared, too, Sara. I'm scared I'm your rebound. I'm scared we'll cock it up somehow. I'm scared you'll tire of me. But the thing is," he said, smiling, "I don't want anyone else. You've rather ruined me for other women.”
“What does ‘I love you’ even mean? It’s weird how different three words can feel. I mean, I’ve said it before but it’s never felt so… big, you know? I’m not sure it meant the same thing then. Like, I was too young to get it. Is that insane? You think I’m insane. But I’m not. I’m just… new to this, I think. Honestly, I think I’m new to this.”
“I know you’re saying something profound, but it’s hard to focus when your tits are out.”
“I was ready to start over as a comet: refuel, reignite, and burn across the sky.”
“I looked around me as if it were possible to collect together the heart I'd nearly spilled all over the grass.”
“When you're coming, you just make unintelligible sounds. But when you're close, you just whisper 'please' over and over, as if I'd ever deny you.”
“The way you seem nervous makes me think you don't know that I'm in love with you."
I looked up at him, eyes wide and hands froze. Click.
"I love you, Petal. I've known it for a while now, but everything changed for me last night.”
“So?" she said, giving me a slow, wicked smile when we accelerated forward. " You told Will you found a woman who likes to have sex in public?"
"Not in my cab!" the cabbie yelled so loud we both jumped and then broke into laughter. He pumped the brakes, jolting us. "Not in my cab!"
"Don't worry, mate," I told him. I turned to her and murmured, "She doesn't let me fuck her in cars. Or on Tuesdays."
"She doesn't," she whispered, though she did let me kiss her again.
"Shame," I said into her mouth. "I'm good in cars. And especially good on Tuesdays.”
“Pity."
"You're serious? You just met me."
"And already I have a strong urge to devour you.”
“Okay, when you smile at me like that, I want to climb. And God knows it's been forever since I've been properly manhandled.”
“Will whistled quietly. 'She sounds fantastic. But I can't imagine why she'd be interested in your dick. With that tiny thing you'll never be half the man your Mother is.',”
“I love you," I said, gripping the back of her neck and bringing her mouth to mine. My hand trailed down her side, naked and smooth and covered in goose bumps.
"We're really doing this, aren't we?" she asked, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes.
"We're really doing this."
"Officially."
"A hundred percent. Dinners, dates, introducing you as my girlfriend. The whole thing."
"Think I like the sound of that," she said, her cheeks pink.”
“How many fingers would you like? - Max Stella”
“You’ve made that clear. But why do you assume I’ve done something wrong? Have I ever lied to you, or kept anything from you? I trusted you. You assume I’ve never been hurt and that trust comes easily to me. You’re too busy guarding your own heart to realize that maybe I’m not the arsehole people expect me to be.”
“But I didn't think I'd ever wanted her more than in that moment when I was witnessing her put herself back together.”
“Beside me, Richie chimed in. "What the... Max. there's a girl on your face."
Sara pulled back and her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, crap."
"Calm down," I told her quietly. "No one here gives a fuck who we are. They hardly remember my name every week."
"Patently untrue," Richie said. "Your name is Twat."
I tilted my head to him, smiling at Sara. "Like I said.”
“I'm not interested in being anyone's plaything right now.
"I believe I'm asking to be yours."
Shaking her head, she fought a smile and looked up at me. "Stop being cute."
"Meet me upstairs."
"What? No."
"The empty ballroom adjacent to the restrooms. It's up the stairs and to your right.”
“When my old life died, it didn’t go quietly. It detonated.”
“Come on." He sighed quietly. "You let me fuck you on Saturday, you put my hand beneath your clothes a few minutes ago, and now you won't join me for lunch. Do you always make a point of being so confusing?."
"Max."
"Sara.”
“I have a question."
"Yes?"
"Are we on a date?"
I nearly choked on the sip of beer I'd just taken.
"For the love of God, woman, don't have a fit. I just wonder if you'd like to reestablish ground rules. Should we review our previous set?"
I nodded, pressing a napkin to my lips and mumbling, "Sure.”
“I was convinced that being ripped in two by him would be the best pleasure I'd ever known.”
“Why are you carrying all these sticky drinks out to the dance floor?"
"My friends just got engaged. We're doing the girls' night out thing."
"So then you're unlikely to leave here with me."
I blinked, and then blinked again, hard. With this frank suggestion, I was officially out of my depth. Way out of my depth. "I... what? No."
"Pity."
"You're serious? You just met me."
"And already I have a strong urge to devour you.”
“What's going on?" I asked, gauging her expression. "Talk to me."
She leaned into me again. "Don't want to talk."
"Sara, I don't mind being your distraction but at least be honest with me aboout it. Something's wrong."
"I'm fine." But she wasn't fine. She wouldn't have come here if she were.
"Bullshit. You're breaking your own rules by even being here. This is better -this is real- but it's also different and I want to know why.”
“Come home with me."
This time I did laugh. "No"
"Come to my car."
"No. There is no way I'm leaving this club with you."
He bent and pressed a small, careful kiss to my shoulder before telling me, "But I want to touch you.”
“I took his hand, brought it to my hip. "I've been the only person to give myself an orgasm for the past year." Moving his fingers to the edge of my dress, I whispered, "Can you change that?”
“I don't know how I can be so ambitious and so lazy at the same time.”
“Accepting the fact that she did indeed have Alzheimer's, that she could only bank on two unacceptably effective drugs available to treat it, and that she couldn't trade any of this in for some other, curable disease, what did she want? Assuming the in vitro procedure worked, she wanted to live to hold Anna's baby and know it was her grandchild. She wanted to see Lydia act in something she was proud of. She wanted to see Tom fall in love. She wanted one more sabbatical year with John. She wanted to read every book she could before she could no longer read.
She laughed a little, surprised at what she'd just revealed about herself. Nowhere in that list was anything about linguistics, teaching, or Harvard. She ate her last bite of cone. She wanted more sunny, seventy-degree days and ice-cream cones.”
“Los espejos y la cópula son abominables, porque multiplican el número de los hombres.”
“All three wore the air of superiority assumed by people who are already in a place when studying new arrivals.”
“If relationships were hard, mariage was even harder... it seemed like most couples struggled. It went with the territory. What did Nana always say? Stick two different people with two different sets of expectations under one roof and it ain't always going to be shrimp and grits on Easter.”
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