I Locked My Professor's Office Door, and Left Belonging to Three Men novel · Chapter 21 of 24

Chapter 21: The Barn

Claudia knelt in front of the stool in the barn, took my left foot in her clay-gray hands, and kissed my ankle.

"Stay there," she said, to the open door behind me. "Don't come in."

I turned my head.

Marcello stood in the doorway in his long winter coat.

Claudia had unbolted the door for him a moment ago and put him on the threshold.

His face was white and his eyes were fixed on his wife.

"Claudia," he said.

"You may watch. You may not touch. If you touch, I'll bolt it again."

"Yes," Marcello said.

"Say it."

"Yes, Claudia," Marcello said, hoarsely.

She turned back to me.

I sat on the wooden stool by the wheel in nothing but my socks.

The March light came in cold and gold across the floor, and my whole body was flushed from my face to my knees.

She sat back on her heels and looked at me.

It was a long look, and an unembarrassed one, the look she gave to a pot she had made.

"You are exactly what I imagined," Claudia said. "I have been imagining it since October."

"October."

"You told me the ledgers lie."

Her mouth twitched.

"I had to go in the pantry and breathe."

I laughed, and the laugh broke in the middle.

She stood up.

She took off her apron and folded it over the wheel.

Then she took off her flannel shirt, one button at a time, with her eyes on mine.

Under it she wore a plain gray cotton bra with the strap mended in white thread.

She unhooked it herself and let it fall.

Her breasts were soft and full and heavy, with fine silver lines along their sides.

Her stomach was a little rounded, and her shoulders were broad and strong from the wheel.

"I'm fifty-two," she said. "I'm not a girl."

"You're lovely."

"Don't flatter me. Look."

I looked.

I looked for a long time, and she held still for it, and I felt something in my chest go quiet and enormous.

"You're so beautiful," I said. "Claudia. You are so beautiful I can't breathe."

"Good," said Claudia, and a tear ran down her cheek and she ignored it. "Come and touch me."

I stood.

I crossed the boards on bare feet and put both hands on her.

Her skin was warm and a little rough, and she smelled of clay and woodsmoke and rosemary.

I cupped her breasts and felt her nipples draw tight against my palms, and she made a low sound in her throat.

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