Page 93 of How to Bang a Billionaire
Ellery looked already lost. Swaying, twisting, turning, her hands in her hair, on her neck, on her hips. Her face vulnerable in joy, just like her brother.
There was something contagious about it.
It started in small rushes: just these little darts of pleasure, tingling through my whole body. And slowly the spaces between them faded away until I just felt good. So good.
And I think she understood it too because then we were dancing together. We were dancing together and dancing with everyone. All these people touching without touching.
Except for the ones that were.
Sometimes I was dancing, sometimes I was hugging, sometimes I was being hugged.
And it was all good. So good. The heat and closeness of bodies stripped of the threat or promise of sex.
I was also vaguely aware I was On Drugs.
Blatantly high.
But it didn’t feel like anything bad.
It was gentle. Tender. Drawing me closer to the music, to the dancers, to Ellery who had her arms around me, her body nestled against mine, her lips against my neck.
We were so with each other right then.
I loved her very much.
Wanted to hold her forever. Like this. Nothing but this. It was perfect. Beautiful.
The music was our heart. The light our blood.
We were shining. We were turquoise and emerald and purple and amethyst and electric blue.
Jewels inside us.
Sparking where we touched.
This was what Tagore wanted. This was how we should be.
Everything was so very clear. Not like the blurry happiness of alcohol or the fuzzy warmth of weed.
And I understood her. Ellery. I understood Ellery. All her sadness and fear and the splintered beauty inside her.
And the best thing was I didn’t have to tell her. Didn’t have to explain.
Because I knew she knew.
And I knew she got me too.
And all we had to do was dance. Dance and be together and feel the music. Feel the joy with our hearts wide open.
It went away again, of course.
But it was a gentle comedown.
The world was still so soft, so lovely, as Ellery helped me into a cab. Kissing my cheek before she closed the door.
It was a pearly pale morning. The sky almost iridescent. A swirl of cloud cover and the rising sun.
I watched the streets with wonder. Finished a bottle of water. I was exhausted in a distant physical way, but I wasn’t tired. An odd distinction, but it absolutely made sense right then. What I really wanted to do was have a long, hot shower and just feel the water against my skin.
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