After a moment she said, “Okay,” and she raised her eyes. And she touched my lips underneath her fingertips. “I want you to touch me with your hands.”
I sighed, stared off at the wall.
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, Thais, it does.”
She paused.
“I want to know what…you feel like.”
I became acutely aware of my own suspicious mind suddenly. I explored it for a moment, searching underneath heavy, relentless layers of passion and desire for her that made it incredibly difficult to think clearly of anything else.
“Why are you afraid to touch me?”
I broke away from my thoughts.
“I’m not afraid to touch you,” I said, combing my fingers through the top of her hair. “I’m afraid of not being able to stop. I’m afraid of turning you into something you’re not.”
“What am I not, Atticus?”
I didn’t answer at first; I knew the answers, all of them, but I didn’t know which to start with.
Finally, summing them all up into one, I said, “Everything that this world is.”
Thais sighed then and rested her hand on my bare chest.
“What if I told you I wanted you to touch me and not stop?”
I lifted from the mattress, but she stopped me.
“Atticus, please—stay here with me. I won’t ask anything else of you. All I want is for you to touch me. That’s all. I swear it.”
Staring intently at the shadows of branches cast against the far wall, I tried to calm my breathing; I loosened my tightly clenched fists; I let my rigid jaw settle behind my cheeks. And when I felt the tenderness of her fingers touch my arm, move upward and slide across my chest, every ounce of anger and discomfort left me in a breath. “Please…” I heard her voice whisper in the darkness, felt the warmth of her breath on my bare shoulder. “It’s all I ask,” she said.
Slowly, I laid back down; she drew her leg over my waist.
I turned to face her; her mouth was so close, but I restrained myself from kissing it. I kissed her forehead instead and whispered, “And that’s all you give me permission to do?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “All I give you permission to do is touch me with your hands.”
Without looking away from her eyes, I slid my hand over her waist, her hip, taking my time before putting it between her thighs underneath her dress.
THAIS
Atticus slid his fingers behind the elastic of my panties and pulled them down my thighs, over my knees, off my feet and away from me. Slowly, and carefully, as if afraid he’d break me, he parted my legs with his hand. I was reluctant at first, the fear of the act still dancing in my belly, but I gave in to his movements, his guidance.
I gasped a little at the parting of my legs, just thinking about what he would do next, touch next. That part of me, the deepest most sacred part of my body, knew what would happen next before my mind did. The tugging between my thighs I could now feel in my stomach. I gently bit my lip. I never looked away from his eyes; they captured me, pinned me down next to him, made me absolutely submissive to him.
I shivered from the back of my head down into my knees when Atticus pulled my dress up and rest it on my belly, exposing me. The warm summer night air touched me, every part of me, and my heart skipped two beats in my chest.
I fell into his blue eyes as he drank me up with them. I thought I might drown in them, but I wanted to. I wanted to…
My gasp was sharp when I felt his fingers move through my tuft of soft hair and between the cleft of my body’s center, and I knew that Atticus’ touch would crumble the very walls of my foundation, that I would collapse absolutely and would need to be rebuilt again.
My lips parted and my mouth filled with air and the insides of my thighs came alive with shivers when I felt one of his fingers dip inside of me. My breasts heaved, my hands clenched the sheet beneath me, my eyes threatened to close.
“Look at me, Thais,” he whispered onto my mouth just before kissing it. “If you want me to touch you,” he said, as he continued to touch me, “all I ask is that you look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”
How is that possible?!
I nodded, staring into his eyes, afraid that if I looked away, if I didn’t do what he’d asked, that he would stop. I would die if he stopped. I’ll die if you stop…please…oh, God.
ATTICUS
She was so soft underneath my hand, so fragile, so sweet, so everything the world was not. I wanted to die…Oh my fucking God, just kill me and get it over with.
I peered into her eyes, searching her depths, drowning in her as she drowned in me. And when I felt her body tighten, her legs shudder and tense and collapse around my hand, I rubbed harder, faster, and did not relent. Her fingers wound tightly in the back of my hair. How can a woman so small have such a strong grip? I thought, and I wished she’d pull harder. Her thighs clamped about my arm with so much force. How can a woman who weighs so little be so powerful? And I wished she’d squeeze tighter.
“Atticus…oh, Atticus…” she cried out, her head and back arched against the mattress, her hands clutching the sheet.
Breathe. Breathe. Calm…
Finally, when her body stopped trembling, I stopped.
She lay on her back, breathless, looking up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice.
I pulled her dress back down and laid beside her again, facing her.
“Sorry for what?”
“I…looked away from your eyes,” she said. “I couldn’t help it.”
I leaned in and kissed her lips. “It’s okay,” I whispered onto her mouth.
I pulled her against my chest, wrapped my arms around her, nestled her head underneath my chin. It’s over, I thought as her warmth coalesced with mine. Now I have a new battle to fight. How am I going to let her go when I get her to Shreveport—if I get her to Shreveport? How will I be able to leave her? I squeezed my arms around her. I didn’t want to think about it. All I cared about was the moment.
Thais giggled suddenly and pulled me from my thoughts.
“What’s so funny?”
She raised her head, propping it on her knuckles, her elbow pressed into the mattress.
“I was just…thinking of something.” Her face was bright, red even, in the darkness of the room.
My brows crinkled in my forehead.
“About what?”
THAIS
I didn’t want to tell him, but another part of me did. I was shy; the thought of doing something like that made me flush with heat.
Atticus raised his head.
“Thais, tell me.”
I couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore.
With a dark smile, he reached out and cupped my chin, forcing my gaze. “Tell me,” he urged.
After a moment, I said, “I just thought…well, I thought you might like me to touch you with my hands?”
Atticus shook his head and laid back down.
“Absolutely not,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “You won’t be doing any of that.”
38
ATTICUS