Page 161 of Everything Under the Sun

“Or was it this?” he said, and I felt two of his fingers enter me.

I moaned and whimpered and tensed and Oh dear God…

Then Atticus said, “Or was it both at the same time like this?” His tongue caressed me while he moved two fingers in and out of me.

What happened to the time? One moment I was experiencing euphoria, and the next, I was staring at the ceiling again, wondering how it could’ve been over so quickly.

“Atticus?” I said a few minutes later when I could speak.

“Hmm?” He lay with one arm propped behind his head, the other laid across his chest.

“Do you remember Petra?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I remember her.”

I pictured Petra’s beautiful face, her long, blonde hair and kind blue eyes. I thought back to those days I spent with her locked in that room in Lexington City, seeing the scenes in my mind as if they’d happened only yesterday.

“What about her?” he asked.

“Well,” I began, taking my time, “she was having a lot of sex with that soldier before…well, before he was killed that night.”

Atticus’ head tilted to the side; he looked right at me. But I kept my eyes on the ceiling—what I was about to propose made my insides rock-hard and my mouth dry.

“Yeah?” he asked, giving me a nudge.

“He did something to her,” I said, “and…well, it sounded like it hurt really bad, but she seemed to like it a lot, too.”

“Well, what was it?” he asked, suspiciously.

I flushed. “He…well, he took her in the…other place.”

He repositioned his back against the hard floor, but I got the feeling it wasn’t the floor making him uncomfortable.

“Yeah, well,” he said, “it does hurt like hell.”

I edged my way closer and laid my head on his arm.

“Don’t get any ideas,” he told me straightaway.

“I was just curious.”

“Well, then believe me when I tell you it’s painful and you won’t like it. At all. No matter how much Petra liked it. Or pretended to.”

“But how do you know I won’t like it?” I raised my head from his arm and propped my face on my knuckles.

“I just told you,” he countered, looking at me intensely. “It hurts like hell.”

“But how do you know how it feels?”

“Because I’ve done it.”

My face screwed up; my eyebrows crinkled and stiffened. “You’ve done it?” I asked, shocked.

“What—no!” he snapped, realizing. He sat bolt-upright on the floor. “God no! I just mean that I’ve done it to a couple girls, and they didn’t seem to—just, just no.”

I laughed under my breath.

“This won’t end like the blowjob, Thais. You keep messing with me,” he warned, “and I will tickle you until you piss yourself.”

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