Page 43 of Saxon

"You said you only fucked her once."

"I did. I watched her for fuckin months, though. She had this friend, Ellis. Gay dude. Weird as fuck, wore frilly dresses and high heels one day and suit and tie the next, and sometimes he'd mix it up, wear a skirt and heels with a man's suit coat and tie. But he loved the shit outta Camilla. She'd have these gnarly fuckin' panic attacks—like the one you just had. Couldn't breathe, paralyzed, felt like she was gonna die. She got to the point where she could feel it coming and would text a single exclamation point to Ellis and he'd drop what he was doing and come to her, and he'd talk her out of it. It was remarkable, how he did it. Stayed calm, and just talked her through it. Brought her back to herself. I was always amazed how he fuckin' could just…magic her out of it."

"Saxon, I…"

He runs a thumb under my eye, the other. Ghosts his damp thumb over my temple. "Ain't gotta say shit, Terra. You don't owe me an explanation and you sure as fuck don't owe me a goddamn apology."

"I could have gotten us both killed. I was going 115."

"We hit 145, actually."

"And I couldn't fucking see, Saxon."

"You weren't being reckless—you were having a panic attack. And the only reason you were driving in the first place is because I fuckin' passed out."

"You hadn’t slept in how long?" I ask.

"Almost four days. No fuckin' excuse."

"It kind of is." I fight to get my snark back. "And I like to think maybe I had a little hand—or mouth, as the case may be—in your passing out."

He huffs a laugh, breath hot and sudden on my scalp. "Terra, I…" he shakes his head. "Yeah, I can't deny that. You sucked me off so fuckin' hard I passed out."

"Told you I could suck a marble through a straw."

"More like suck man's soul out through his cock. Without a doubt, the most mind-altering experience of my life. And I've done LSD."

I cackle. "Okay, well that's probably a bit of an exaggeration, but thanks for the flattery."

"It's the truth, babe."

I'm feeling a little uncomfortable now, for some reason. "It was just a blow job, Saxon."

His thumb tucks up under my chin and nudges upward until I have to either look at him or close my eyes. Since my eyes are still red-rimmed and brimming with tears, and my nose is probably gooey with snot, I opt for closed eyes.

"Terra."

I shake my head. "Don't."

"Look at me."

"No." I sniffle—yep, definitely snotty and ugly.

He wipes my nose with his sleeve, and then my eyes again with his thumbs—so gently, so softly it should be impossible for such a rough, violent man.

"Fine. Don't look at me. But that shit was not just a blow job. You and I both know it, babe."

"Then what was it?" I ask, feeling my snark return in the face of seriousness and vulnerability.

"I dunno. You tell me."

"That's what I’m saying. It was just a BJ."

"So, you weren't trying to prove anything to me."

"Nope."

"You weren't trying to get under my skin."