Chapter 10: Term Two

Eli stood up from the couch slowly.

The only light came from the street, orange through the tall window.

It lay across his bare throat and the open collar of his shirt.

"The lock on that door works from your side," he said.

"I know. I turned it."

"Then you turned it back."

"Yes."

He crossed the dark room until he stood a foot from her, and did not touch her.

"Matilda. If I put my hands on you now, it isn't for show."

"I know that, too."

"Say it plainly."

"I want you," she said. "I've wanted you since the ice in the bakery. Stop being decent."

He made a sound in his throat that was half a laugh and half something else.

Then his hands were in her hair, and his mouth was on hers.

It was nothing like the lawn.

The lawn had been a point she was making, and this was slow and deep and hungry.

She opened her mouth under his and pulled him in by the shirt.

He walked her backward until her legs hit the arm of the couch.

"Term one," he muttered against her jaw. "Nothing real."

"Term one is dead," Matilda said. "I killed it on the lawn."

He pulled her sweater over her head and dropped it.

His mouth went to her neck, to the place under her ear where his thumb had pressed in the car.

She gasped and arched her whole body into him.

"There," he said. "I've thought about that spot all week."

"Tell me what else you've thought about."

"This." He undid her bra with one hand. "Your breasts in my mouth."

He bent his head and took one nipple between his lips, and she cried out and clutched the back of his skull.

His tongue was hot and slow.

He sucked, and then he used his teeth very lightly, and heat shot straight down her belly to her thighs.

She was already wet. She could feel it.

She dragged his shirt open, and buttons went across the floor.

His chest was warm, and ridged with muscle, and she ran her palms down it to his belt.

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