“When,” she wondered, when their breathing had calmed down and the sheets no longer clung with uncomfortable dampness to their entangled bodies, “did you decide this?”
It was, as usual, a continuation of a conversation that had been interrupted by a flurry of heated kisses and frantic movements. She could never recall when they’d formed this habit of bookending pleasure with business, and she couldn’t imagine how life would be if they couldn’t return to being their normal, sedate selves as soon as their appetites were sated. She privately compared it to a luncheon meeting she had once had, where the duck had been so exquisite that they had had to postpone negotiations until the coffee had been poured, and was secretly pleased that they managed to be so efficient, so wonderfully effective at managing their time together.
“I don’t really know – recently, I suppose. Since we last spoke.” His lazy reply resonated through his barrel chest to the curves and swirls of her inner ear, making her whole head buzz as he spoke, a delicious headache.
She nodded, trusting him to feel the movement and take it as an understanding. Surely they knew each other well enough physically, she remonstrated the inner control freak telling her to make things clear, that he was able to know what she meant when she did a certain thing.
Aloud: “And you’re certain about it?” as she traced the scant black curls beneath her cheek with a delicately manicured finger.
“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”
It bothered her, that he wouldn’t discuss with her ideas not yet fully formed, and she told him so as she rearranged herself to look into his slate-grey eyes. An old argument. She knew his response would be a reluctant protest against the notion, or he would simply draw her down and kiss her, causing another sizeable break in the conversation.
“It bothers me,” he shot back, gentle hands on her back belying the harshness of his tone, “that you can pick up conversations right where they left off, as if all of this was just an interruption.”
5 comments:
The last line is very very good. I liked the whole piece very much really.
Oh, very very good! I love the atmosphere in this piece, I love the physicality of it. It doesn't necessarily move any part of any plot, it just is and that is quite all right with me. Brava.
The first words to leave my mouth, aloud, in my home, were "Holy fuck". I don't know what else to say.
This was just perfect. Absolutely perfect. Everything was perfect.
That's it.
I sympathize with the guy.
I have nothing especially constructive to say.
I liked this piece, and I tried to imagine the beginning of their interupted conversation.
Wow. That last paragraph blew me away. I wasn't expecting that at all but at the same time it really sums up this woman's character, how she's so stiff with her language and how she's impeccably kept, and that kind of smugness.
This is a great piece Jess! I love it! You're narrative stuff is excellent!
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