Chapter 4

Oliver clicked the door shut, feeling very privileged to have his own key. “George?” he called out, as he could see no one in the apartment. “You here?”

“Oh, thank God it’s you!” Georgie called back. “C’mere!”

“Where are you? What’s the matter?”

“Bathroom. Nothing. Just ... get in here.”

Ollie walked through the bedroom and into the bathroom. George was lying back in the old-fashioned bathtub, steam rising from it, and bubbles overflowing onto the floor somewhat erratically. In a valley of the bubble landscape, her pale breasts with bold freckles and bright nipples were visible. Her hands held a tablet, silvery on the back, and she was grinning widely. He thought she looked gorgeous.

“Oh, hey you,” he said. “I would kiss you, but I don’t want all those bubbles.”

“Chicken. Am I late?”

“Nope. Mark cancelled, so I’m early. This is what you do when I’m not here?”

“Well, no ... but you were out, Zoe is ... somewhere doing something, and I just felt like a little bath reading.”

“Oh? Watcha reading?”

“Ah ... actually, tell you in a minute. Get a chair, would you?”

“A chair?”

“Yeah, come and sit with me?”

“Hell, yeah. Nice view!”

When Oliver got back with the chair, George had propped herself up a little more, and her breasts were out of the water. “Jesus, now the view is outstanding!”

“I was getting a little warm.”

“Me too.”

“Sit, sit.” Ollie sat down, and George handed him the mostly bubble-free tablet. “I ... umm ... look, I was reading some...”

“George, your face has gone even redder.”

“Yeah, shut up. Reading some ... erotica.”

“Porn, you mean?”

“Kinda.”

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed. I just wasn’t ... expecting anyone.”

“Uh huh.” We grinned at each other.

“Anyway, just ... just read me that bit on the screen?”

“It’s timed out, George. You need to put your password in.”

“Bubbles, Ollie. You do it.”

“I don’t know your password.”

“Oh.” She blushed yet again. “It’s ollierocks.”

“No.”

“Yeah. One word. Lower case.”

“You are lovely, you know that, right? o-l-l-i-e-r-o-c-k-s. Okay, I’m ... Oh.”

“Hmmm?”

“What have you been reading?”

“Told you.”

“You, dearest Georgia, have a dirty mind.”

“Well, you knew that.”

“Yeah, but now I have proof. Hell, I can go to the media.”

“And tell them what?”

“George is a pervert. She reads porn in the bath.”

“Erotica.”

“Whatever.”

“And tries, largely unsuccessfully, to masturbate.”

“What?”

“Well, I needed two hands, see, and I needed one for the tablet.”

“You amaze me.”

“What, my lack of dexterity?”

“No, your big mouth.”

“You love my mouth.”

“I do.”

“Read. What’s the next one?”

“Er ... Just read it out?”

“Title and author first, of course.”

“Okay, this is Fingersmith, by...”

“Sarah Waters. I’ve read that. Go, go.”

“Where are your lips,” I said.

“My lips?” she answered in a tone of surprise. “They are here.”

“Oh, I remember this, Ollie. No need for the funny voices. You’ve got it wrong anyway. Two women.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. More.”

I knew how to do it all right, for Dainty had shown me, once. Kissing Maud, however, was not like kissing her. It was like kissing the darkness. As if the darkness had life, had a shape, had taste, was warm and glib. Her mouth was still, at first. Then it moved against mine. Then it opened. I felt her tongue. I felt her swallow. I felt—

I had done it, only to show her. But I lay with my mouth on hers and felt, starting up in me, everything I had said would start in her, when Gentleman kissed her. It made me giddy. It made me blush, worse than before.

“You’ve read this?”

“Uh huh.”

“Pervert.”

“You already said.”

“I just wanted to congratulate you again.”

“Oliver, could you read some more? I need to concentrate.”

“Hmm? Oh!” Ollie could see George moving under the foam. Her hand was jiggling the bubbles, and her shoulder was nudging backwards and forwards. “I’ll ... just give me a moment.”

“You can watch between passages, okay?” George said, smiling but with her eyes still shut.

“Okay. Okay. Hold on.”

“Always, Ollie.”

“Um... Mario Puzo.”

“No, really?”

“The Godfather.”

“Give it to me.”

“Hmmm...”

“Read.”

“Alright, alright.”

Now as she ran up the steps toward Sonny a tremendous flash of desire went through her body. On the landing Sonny grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall into an empty bedroom. Her legs went weak as the door closed behind them. She felt Sonny’s mouth on hers, his lips tasting of burnt tobacco, bitter. She opened her mouth. At that moment she felt his hand come up beneath her bridesmaid’s gown, heard the rustle of material giving way, felt his large warm hand between her legs, ripping aside the satin panties to caress her vulva. She put her arms around his neck and hung there as he opened his trousers. Then he placed both hands beneath her bare buttocks and lifted her. She gave a little hop in the air so that both her legs were wrapped around his upper thighs. His tongue was in her mouth and she sucked on it. He gave a savage thrust that banged her head against the door. She felt something bumming pass between her thighs.