Chapter 23: The Spare Key

He kissed me, and it was slow for a moment.

Then I got my hands in his hair and pulled him down onto the quilt, and it wasn't slow anymore.

His mouth moved to my jaw and my throat. I heard the rain and my own breath and the wet sound of his mouth on my skin.

"Seventy-six days," I said into his ear. "I counted."

"Nothing happens until the sixty days are over," he said, against my collarbone. "That was my rule."

"You broke it first. Break it again."

He laughed, low, and the sound went straight down my spine.

I sat up and pulled my sweater off over my head. My bra followed.

Anthony looked at me in the lamplight, and his breath stopped.

"Lizzie."

"Touch me."

He did. His palms covered my breasts, rough and warm, and his thumbs dragged over my nipples until I arched into his hands.

Then his mouth closed over one, hot and wet, and I cried out and gripped the back of his neck.

I pulled at his coat, his jacket, his shirt. He shrugged out of them without lifting his mouth from my skin.

When I got his belt open, he caught my wrist.

"Me first," he said.

He pushed me back against the pillow and peeled off my jeans and my underwear in one pull.

I lay naked under him with the window gray behind his head.

He kissed down my stomach. He kissed the inside of each thigh, slowly, and I could feel him smiling.

"You're soaked," he said.

"Anthony."

"Say what you want."

"Your mouth. On my pussy. Please."

He put his mouth on me, and I almost came off the bed.

His tongue went over my clit in long wet strokes, and then in small tight circles that made my legs shake.

He slid two fingers inside me and curled them. I grabbed the quilt in both fists.

"There," I said. "Right there. Don't stop."

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