37
THAIS
We lay together on the mattress later that night; Atticus behind me, his arms wrapped around me. We stared out the window at the black tree limbs jutting into the navy sky; the scattering of stars; the moon glow. We still smelled of fish even after scrubbing our hands in the pond. I didn’t care; I wanted him wrapped around me no matter what he smelled like. I melted into the heat of his chest; his warmth alone could ease me into sleep. His protective arms alone could ease me into Heaven.
“Atticus?”
“Yeah?” He squeezed me gently, spooning me.
“Do you ever wish that I was somebody else?” My voice was soft, quiet.
He squeezed me again, a little tighter this time.
“No,” he said. “Why would you ask me that?”
I shrugged. My eyes remained fixed on the sky through the open window. I stared at one star, hardly blinking, mesmerized by it though entirely absent to its presence. I was picturing something else. Many things. Bits and pieces of this and that.
“Why would you think I’d wish you were somebody else?” He pressed his lips to the back of my head.
“I saw how Rachel back at the farm looked at you.”
“You noticed that?”
“Yes.”
“Did it bother you?” His arms tightened around me again.
I nodded.
“I was afraid you might leave me at the farm and take her to Shreveport instead.”
His mouth fell on the side of my neck; shivers moved along my spine and into my cheeks; that tugging sensation between my legs returned. Tug—tuuug. I tensed a little, squeezing my thighs together to stave off the feeling, worried Atticus might sense it. Or was it an attempt to prolong the feeling? Did I hope he could sense it? I thought maybe it was both. I was still scared of having sex. But my fear of it was overshadowed by my desire for it—for Atticus. It wasn’t the act of sex itself that I wanted, it was the act with Atticus.
“I’d only ever take you with me anywhere, Thais.”
We were quiet for a moment; only the sound of our light breathing and the crickets outside could be heard. There was no Whippoorwill singing in the night, but I was okay with that. I had Atticus to comfort me now.
“But…you never touch me.”
ATTICUS
My body stiffened.
I couldn’t say anything. I was afraid to. The one thing I wanted more than anything as of late was to touch her, to be inside of her, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Guilt was already a heavy burden I carried always uphill. I didn’t trust myself. I was afraid that if I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. Thais would be Evelyn in that moment. She would be Petra. She would be lost.
“Why don’t you touch me?” she repeated.
I sighed. “Thais…I’ve told you before I just can’t—”
“You can kiss me,” she pointed out.
She turned to lay facing me, and she looked into my eyes. “And you only did that because I asked you,” she said. “If I asked you to touch me, would you?”
I grew harder, and tried not to think about it.
Thais moved her body closer, tucking her hands together pressed between our chests; she was so tiny in my engulfing arms. One hand fell on her bottom, and I pulled her closer; the thin fabric of her dress was cool between my fingers, her flesh warm beneath it. My heart was about to burst out of my chest. The stiff ache between my legs grew uncomfortably. My mouth went dry in an instant and my tongue felt like cardboard.
“Would you?” she asked in a gentle voice; never seductive, never with the wiles or intentions of a skilled woman; only with naivety and sweetness.
Oh, how is this possible? I thought. How can a woman do so much inflict so much damage, provoke every emotion with just the thought of her? How is this possible? Why does it hurt so much? Why are You doing this to me? I fucking hate You. I fucking love You. But God would not hear me, because I was not a man of God. I was a deserter. A betrayer. An angry shell of a man who coupled with violence and sex. I had judged and harmed and maimed and murdered and kissed the mouth of sin every night I lay with a woman, with Evelyn, with the women before her. And I did not regret it. I would never regret it. Because I owed God nothing. And God owed me everything.
I laid my head back on the mattress and raised her face to mine, my fingers tucked underneath her chin, and then I kissed her.
THAIS
I touched my fingertips to his lips when he pulled away. I always loved to touch his face, the shape of his strong-set jaw, the stubble that tickled my fingers, the perfect curve of his nose, the warmth and softness of his lips…always his lips. I was fascinated by them. The shape of them. How they tasted. How strong they felt against mine, as if nothing could ever hurt me or touch me when he kissed me.
“Would you, Atticus?” I asked once more.
“What would you like me to do?” he asked, but with what felt like a heavy heart.
“Whatever you want to do?” I kissed him lightly, just a peck.
He shook his head. “No, don’t say that. Never say that to me. Do you understand?”
I didn’t understand.
ATTICUS
“But why?”
“Because I said so,” I told her.
“But that’s what I want,” she said, her sweet breath laced with dandelions and caramel candy wrapping around my senses. “I want you to do whatever you want to do.”
“No.” I shook my head with emphasis this time. “Thais, I will never touch you if you give me that kind of freedom. Never. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.”
She frowned.
After a moment she said, “Okay,” and she raised her eyes. And she touched my lips underneath her fingertips. “I want you to touch me with your hands.”
I sighed, stared off at the wall.
“Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes, Thais, it does.”
She paused.
“I want to know what…you feel like.”
I became acutely aware of my own suspicious mind suddenly. I explored it for a moment, searching underneath heavy, relentless layers of passion and desire for her that made it incredibly difficult to think clearly of anything else.
“Why are you afraid to touch me?”
I broke away from my thoughts.
“I’m not afraid to touch you,” I said, combing my fingers through the top of her hair. “I’m afraid of not being able to stop. I’m afraid of turning you into something you’re not.”
“What am I not, Atticus?”
I didn’t answer at first; I knew the answers, all of them, but I didn’t know which to start with.
Finally, summing them all up into one, I said, “Everything that this world is.”
Thais sighed then and rested her hand on my bare chest.
“What if I told you I wanted you to touch me and not stop?”
I lifted from the mattress, but she stopped me.
“Atticus, please—stay here with me. I won’t ask anything else of you. All I want is for you to touch me. That’s all. I swear it.”
Staring intently at the shadows of branches cast against the far wall, I tried to calm my breathing; I loosened my tightly clenched fists; I let my rigid jaw settle behind my cheeks. And when I felt the tenderness of her fingers touch my arm, move upward and slide across my chest, every ounce of anger and discomfort left me in a breath. “Please…” I heard her voice whisper in the darkness, felt the warmth of her breath on my bare shoulder. “It’s all I ask,” she said.
Slowly, I laid back down; she drew her leg over my waist.
I turned to face her; her mouth was so close, but I restrained myself from kissing it. I kissed her forehead instead and whispered, “And that’s all you give me permission to do?”
She nodded. “Yes,” she said. “All I give you permission to do is touch me with your hands.”
Without looking away from her eyes, I slid my hand over her waist, her hip, taking my time before putting it between her thighs underneath her dress.
THAIS
Atticus slid his fingers behind the elastic of my panties and pulled them down my thighs, over my knees, off my feet and away from me. Slowly, and carefully, as if afraid he’d break me, he parted my legs with his hand. I was reluctant at first, the fear of the act still dancing in my belly, but I gave in to his movements, his guidance.
I gasped a little at the parting of my legs, just thinking about what he would do next, touch next. That part of me, the deepest most sacred part of my body, knew what would happen next before my mind did. The tugging between my thighs I could now feel in my stomach. I gently bit my lip. I never looked away from his eyes; they captured me, pinned me down next to him, made me absolutely submissive to him.
I shivered from the back of my head down into my knees when Atticus pulled my dress up and rest it on my belly, exposing me. The warm summer night air touched me, every part of me, and my heart skipped two beats in my chest.
I fell into his blue eyes as he drank me up with them. I thought I might drown in them, but I wanted to. I wanted to…
My gasp was sharp when I felt his fingers move through my tuft of soft hair and between the cleft of my body’s center, and I knew that Atticus’ touch would crumble the very walls of my foundation, that I would collapse absolutely and would need to be rebuilt again.
My lips parted and my mouth filled with air and the insides of my thighs came alive with shivers when I felt one of his fingers dip inside of me. My breasts heaved, my hands clenched the sheet beneath me, my eyes threatened to close.
“Look at me, Thais,” he whispered onto my mouth just before kissing it. “If you want me to touch you,” he said, as he continued to touch me, “all I ask is that you look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”
How is that possible?!
I nodded, staring into his eyes, afraid that if I looked away, if I didn’t do what he’d asked, that he would stop. I would die if he stopped. I’ll die if you stop…please…oh, God.
ATTICUS
She was so soft underneath my hand, so fragile, so sweet, so everything the world was not. I wanted to die…Oh my fucking God, just kill me and get it over with.
I peered into her eyes, searching her depths, drowning in her as she drowned in me. And when I felt her body tighten, her legs shudder and tense and collapse around my hand, I rubbed harder, faster, and did not relent. Her fingers wound tightly in the back of my hair. How can a woman so small have such a strong grip? I thought, and I wished she’d pull harder. Her thighs clamped about my arm with so much force. How can a woman who weighs so little be so powerful? And I wished she’d squeeze tighter.
“Atticus…oh, Atticus…” she cried out, her head and back arched against the mattress, her hands clutching the sheet.
Breathe. Breathe. Calm…
Finally, when her body stopped trembling, I stopped.
She lay on her back, breathless, looking up at the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” she said in a quiet voice.
I pulled her dress back down and laid beside her again, facing her.
“Sorry for what?”
“I…looked away from your eyes,” she said. “I couldn’t help it.”
I leaned in and kissed her lips. “It’s okay,” I whispered onto her mouth.
I pulled her against my chest, wrapped my arms around her, nestled her head underneath my chin. It’s over, I thought as her warmth coalesced with mine. Now I have a new battle to fight. How am I going to let her go when I get her to Shreveport—if I get her to Shreveport? How will I be able to leave her? I squeezed my arms around her. I didn’t want to think about it. All I cared about was the moment.
Thais giggled suddenly and pulled me from my thoughts.
“What’s so funny?”
She raised her head, propping it on her knuckles, her elbow pressed into the mattress.
“I was just…thinking of something.” Her face was bright, red even, in the darkness of the room.
My brows crinkled in my forehead.
“About what?”
THAIS
I didn’t want to tell him, but another part of me did. I was shy; the thought of doing something like that made me flush with heat.
Atticus raised his head.
“Thais, tell me.”
I couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore.
With a dark smile, he reached out and cupped my chin, forcing my gaze. “Tell me,” he urged.
After a moment, I said, “I just thought…well, I thought you might like me to touch you with my hands?”
Atticus shook his head and laid back down.
“Absolutely not,” he said, staring up at the ceiling. “You won’t be doing any of that.”