My Time in the Affair - Page 44/85

“It's good enough for me. I like it there,” she pointed out. He smiled.

“You'll like it better in Istanbul. Or how about Tokyo? Ever been there? Maybe I'll take you to Dubai,” he sounded like he was talking to himself.

“How about I take you to California, so you can see some of the most beautiful coast line in the world? Or maybe New Orleans, probably the most interesting place I've ever been in my life, including the places I've been here,” she responded.

“Baby, if I'm with you, I'll probably love it.”

Well, it's hard to keep arguing when he's being cute.

When they'd been in Rome, they'd already spent a lot of their time together just talking, but usually fun stuff. Favorite foods, movies they liked, books they hated, places they'd been – now it was interesting to get more into the nitty gritty. To hear about his time in the army, about how scary it had been, how secretly he'd been glad to leave it. For her to tell him about how she used to dream of opening her own dance studio, but had long since given up on it, especially after the knee injury. Her body scared her now, she didn't know if she could go back full time.

“You can.”

They really hadn't known each other that long – Misch had always known the men she'd dated. They'd been acquaintances or schoolmates or friends. Tal had been sex first, ask questions later, but it seemed to be working. And what she was feeling with him was definitely something she'd never felt before; she wouldn't deny that, and she wasn't even trying to sugar coat her situation. If anything, she'd already spent a great deal of time trying to convince herself that it wasn't real. And she wasn't blinded by lust. It was fact. There was something strong between them.

Maybe it was fate. A really fucked up, long term play by fate. If I hadn't met Michael, we wouldn't have started dating, which means we wouldn't have gotten married, which means I wouldn't have become miserable, which means I wouldn't have come to Italy, which means I wouldn't have met the most amazing person. But why does my happiness have to come at his expense?

She asked Tal the same question, later that evening, while they were playing around in bed. They'd gone on a day date because Tal would have to leave early in the morning. Mike was due in the next evening, they didn't want to cut it too close. Tal didn't want to waste time not touching her, so they went back to her room. Explored each other a little more.

“Maybe fate's holding out for him, too,” Tal suggested. She was laying on top of his chest, running her hand up and down his side.

“She's being a pretty big bitch about this whole thing,” Misch replied, and he laughed.

“She isn't known for being nice.”

“I don't want him to be sad,” Misch whispered.

“It's unavoidable now, baby.”

“It's going to be the hardest thing ever.”

“Want to back out? Go home with him?”

“... okay, the second hardest thing ever.”

“Good girl.”

Mischa woke up to something tickling her. She batted at her leg and tried to go back to sleep. Whatever it was didn't go away, though, but continued its path up her leg. She was half asleep, and her body couldn't decide whether to wake up and investigate, or sleep and pray it wasn't anything nefarious.

She clued into the fact that it was fingers right around the time her underwear was yanked down.

“What are you doing?” she grumbled, shifting her legs around as the material slid down to her feet.

“Having breakfast,” Tal said simply, his breath hot against her thigh as he moved between her legs.

“What time is it?”

“A little after six in the morning.”

“Jesus, we just went to sleep a couple hours ago.”

“I know. What a waste of a couple hours.”

She went to argue with him, but he sucked on the inside of her thigh, hard. She yelped in surprise and he moved farther north, blowing cold air as he went. He always knew how to catch her off guard, and before she could get her bearings, he really was eating her like she was continental breakfast.

“Oh, wow, what a way to wake up,” she groaned, fisting her hand in his hair, pulling a little.

“You're usually so grumpy in the mornings, I should wake you up like this more often,” he chuckled at her as he pulled away, replacing his tongue with his middle finger.

“No one is stopping you.”

While his finger worked in and out of her, he kissed his way up the side of her hip. Circled her belly button with his tongue. Her shirt covered her chest, and he frowned as he worked to push the material aside.

“We've got to break you of this nasty modesty habit you have,” he complained, kissing the top of each of her breasts.

“I've always been this way,” she replied, beginning to pant as his hand worked faster and faster.

“We're going to change that.”

Then his mouth was on hers and he was kissing her hard, his tongue imitating his finger.  She pushed her body up against his, rubbing her naked chest against his, creating heat. When his finger stroked particularly deep, she gasped and pulled away from him, only to have his teeth sink into her bottom lip.

“Please, please,” she began to whimper.

“Please, what?” he asked, looking down the length of her body, watching his fingers move.

“I want you … inside me … now,” she panted.