The Secret Place
“Esti,” I said. “I have a new game.”
She blinked at me.
“You have to lie very still, and I have to try to make you laugh, okay?”
She rolled away from me, lying on one side. I lay down next to her, not quite touching her, but feeling the heat from her body along my skin. Softly, I stroked the curve of her neck, from ear to shoulder–a ticklish place. She didn’t move or speak. I ran my hand along her arm, brushing the delicate hairs gently. So far, this was charted territory. She remained perfectly still. I moved in a little closer, my stomach against the small of her back, my knees tucking into hers. I slipped my hand under her shirt, circling my thumb around her navel, and still lay still, inert. I began to wonder if I had misunderstood. Was she about to leap to her feet, accuse me of terrible things? I shifted a little, to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, her lips curved in a smile. Her breath was long and shallow, a flush on her cheeks. She moved a little and opened her eyes, as blue as water. And her skin, on her belly and thigh, was so soft, like the skin of a child. As delicious as wine. And as she stirred against me, her lips parted and she uttered a breath, like a sigh. And she turned and placed her lips against mine.
(Disobedience – page 161)
