Page 26 of Midsummer Phoenixes
I felt his heat inside of me, his own orgasmic twitchings, near synchronous with my own ebbing ones.
“That was good,” Soyer said after a while, his fingers trailing up and down my back before he finally pulled out. “Hmm. And that view is to-die-for.”
“Don’t,” I managed.
“Fucking puritans. Anyway.” He flopped down next to me, pushed and rolled me until we were on our sides, looking at each other. “I got you flowers. Pretty apricot roses for the occasion of the Moonlight’s reopening. They’re downstairs where the food is.”
I smiled. “Thank you. I love getting flowers from you.”
“Hmm. I know. Still hungry?”
“Really hungry.”
“Breakfast in bed?”
“Nah. Crumbs get everywhere. Let’s go downstairs and eat. And I want to see my flowers.”
Soyer groaned. “Fine. I did laundry earlier. Your bathrobe is on the heated shelf in the bathroom.”
That made me open my slightly sluggish eyes wide. “Thank you.”
“Just a bathrobe.”
“But thank you. It’ll be warm. Like a hug from you.”
“Amory, my heart, if you want me to hug you”—he moved until he could fold his arms around me—”I am right here, and I love holding you close like this. You have but to ask.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
“Soyer?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m really looking forward to that warmed bathrobe though.” And I wouldn’t mind cleaning up a little, but he was my mind reader, so he’d know.
“Should never have ordered that thing.” He chuckled. “Wear it when you next break out in flame.”
I shifted so I could look him in the eye. “I don’t ever want to burn again. I think I burned for you because you were a stupid fucking asshole idiot and died, and I don’t want you to ever fucking do that again. Okay?”
He cocked his left eyebrow. “Noted.”
“Good.”
“So I made stuffed spring squash and stuffed bell peppers with stuffed melons and blood oranges for dessert. It was after our little text exchange. Putting fillings in things was sort of on my mind.”
“You’re trying to distract me with food. With sexy food,” I said but rolled out of bed. I’d learned that getting up naked—especially after sex—would always be awkward, at least if I did it. “It’s working.”
“Good,” Soyer said, not moving from the bed.
I could feel his eyes on me as I pushed one of the screen doors open a little wider in an attempt to shorten my walk to the bathroom, if only by a few steps.
“What a fine ass you have, Amory,” I heard Soyer say.
I didn’t react. I was embarrassed. But then...I also felt flattered, one more thing I needed to relearn, reexamine.
“Thanks,” I said in an attempt to speed that process up. The words were whispered, and I didn’t think Soyer was going to hear.
