Page 206 - It Ends with Us
P. 206

tug ha rder  and  I winc e.

                    “R yle, ”   I   whi sper,   keep ing    my    voice   calm,    ev en    tho ugh    I’m
                beg inni ng  to sha ke.  “Tha t hu rts.”
                    His  fing ers   stop  moving ,  but  hi s  gaze  nev er  lea ves   mine.   He  slowly
                pulls  hi s  fing ers   out  of  me   and   then    bring s  hi s  ha nd   up  around   my
                thro at,   squeez ing    gent ly.   His   lips   meet    mine   and    hi s   tong ue   dives
                ins ide   my   mouth.     I   take   it,   bec ause   I   ha ve   no    idea   wha t’s   going

                thro ugh  hi s hea d right  no w and  I pray I’m overrea cting .
                    I   can   feel    hi m   ha rd   agains t   hi s   jea ns    as   he   pres ses    int o   me.    But
                then  he  pulls  back.  His  ha nd s  lea ve  me  ent irel y  as  he  flattens   hi s  back
                agains t  the  ref rigera tor,  scraping   hi s  ey es   over  my  body  like  he  want s
                to  take  me  right   here    in  the  kitchen.   My  hea rt  beg ins   to  calm  down.
                I’m over reac ting.
                    He    rea ches    bes ide   hi m,   nex t   to   the   stove,    and    he   picks   up   a

                new spaper.     It’s   the   same   new spaper    he   sho wed    me   ea rlier,   with   the
                awards  article  print ed   in  it.  He  ho lds  it  up,  then    tosses   it  toward  me.
                “Did you get  a cha nc e  to rea d tha t yet ?”
                    I  blow  out  a  brea th  of  rel ief .  “Not  yet ,”  I  say,  my  ey es   falling   to  the
                article.
                    “Rea d it out loud.”

                    I   glanc e   up   at   hi m.   I   smile,    but   my   stomach   is   anx ious.   There’ s
                somet hi ng   about  hi m  right   no w.  The      way  he’s  acting .  I  can’t  put  my
                fing er  on  it.
                    “You want  me  to rea d the  article?”  I ask. “Right  no w?”
                    I   feel    odd,   sitting    on   my   kitchen   count er   ha lf   na ked ,   ho lding    a
                new spaper. He no ds. “I’d like  you to take  off your  shi rt firs t. The n rea d
                it out loud.”

                    I  stare   at  hi m,  trying   to  gauge  hi s  beha vior.  Maybe  the    scotch  ha s
                made  hi m ex tra frisky. A lot of times  when  we  make  love,  it’s as simple
                as  making   love.   But  occasionally,  our       sex   is  wild.  A  little   dang ero us,
                like  the  look in  hi s ey es  right  now.
                    I   set    the   paper   down,    pull   off   my   shi rt,   and    then   pick   the   paper
                back    up.   I   start   rea ding    the    article   out   loud,   but   he   takes    a   step

                for ward    and    says,   “Not   the   who le   thi ng .”   He   flips   the   paper   over
                where  it starts in  the  middle  of the  article  and  he  point s to a sent enc e.
                “Rea d the  last few  paragraphs .”
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