Page 92 of The Ampersand Effect

It was in the torrent of internal monologues that incessantly beat against the walls of her skull. The ones that told her she was broken. That she was unworthy. That she was, quantitatively, less than.

Where Grier was a giant fucking ampersand of more, Tobin was mathematically less in every conceivable way.

Grier shifted into her then, pressing her back to Tobin’s chest and wrapping Tobin’s arms around her like a human blanket. Like she was the one who needed comfort. And Tobin knew—it was deliberate. Grier was removing their confrontational posture. Removing the eye contact. Granting Tobin space. Granting her safety.

“Tell me what you’re thinking?” It was a question.

She felt Grier gently stroke her arms—the ones she was currently wrapped in. It comforted her. It excited her. She inhaled Grier’s scent, mingled with the heady trace of sex that lingered between them, and focused on lowering her heart rate—which she knew Grier could feel pounding against her back.

“I’m afraid to want you as much as I do.”

The words were out before she could register them. Grier didn’t speak—just kept stroking her arms, soothing her, waiting.

“I…” She started, then stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’ve been numb for a long time. I don’t think I even truly understood the depths of it until I started feeling again. Until you made me start feeling. You make me want to feel again.”

Now that she’d started, she couldn’t stop. She needed Grier to know—needed her to understand what was going on inside her.

“You make me want so many things. Things I never thought I’d want again. And I want to keep wanting. I want to keep healing, and growing. And—I—I want everything.”

“You deserve everything, Tobin.”

Grier’s voice was calm, grounding. Her fingers never stopped moving.

“You deserve to feel everything. You deserve so much more than what you’ve allowed yourself to believe you deserve. Because it simply isn’t true. And your brain deserves a break from the wreckage of your past. You deserve to feel pleasure—to compensate for the pain you’ve been living in for years.

“You deserve to find yourself, now, as you are today—and lose yourself in all the things that bring you happiness and give you pleasure. And then find yourself again afterward, in an ever-repeating cycle of growth and change.

“We are not intended to be stagnant, Tobin. Our lives are messy, and complicated—and so, intensely beautiful, if you can look through the haze of your trials and recognize the chaos for the tiny blips that they are on the overarching journey. A journey that holds just as much opportunity for happiness as it does for sadness. It’s what we choose to do with our livesafterthe chaos—amidstit—that turns those events into blips on the radar… or defines them as themes of our lives.”

Tobin lay there in silence, letting Grier’s monologue wash over her. She dissected it word by word, trying fervently to accept them. She felt broken—yes—but everything Grier hadsaid tonight was reverberating through her mind like a pong ball, bouncing against the walls and breaking them down.

She felt broken, but she also felt inspired. She felt… vulnerable. And for the first time in as long as she could remember, it didn’t terrify her.

“I want you to help me lose myself.”

It was a whisper. She wasn’t even sure she said it—until she felt Grier’s hand shift to the back of her head, gently pulling her down, and Grier turning her face to align their lips.

They lay there—naked, kissing, stroking—Tobin feeling some of the tension drain from her body as Grier rotated in her arms to press their bodies together again. Grier’s thigh slipped between her legs, and Tobin gasped softy as Grier’s leg settled into her center— granting her time and patience she still didn’t feel she deserved.

Grier stroked her exposed ribs and teased the outside of her breast before tucking her head into Tobin’s neck, dragging her open mouth along her collarbones. Then, in a quiet, deliberate murmur, she asked: “How do you pleasure yourself?”

Tobin didn’t even think before answering. Grier’s roaming mouth distracted her just enough to allow the truth to slip out unfiltered.

“My hands. To start.”

Grier’s hands wandered gently over the curves of her ass, her stomach, the outside of her breasts. They were confident but reverent—respectful in a way that made Tobin acutely aware that Grier was reading her body’s responses, gauging what she liked, how she reacted—what she wanted.

“And how do you finish?” Grier asked between kisses, her voice a breath against Tobin’s skin.

Tobin’s mind flashed to the drawer full of toys in the storage bed beneath them. She didn’t have a favorite, but she knew which ones she wanted—exactly when she wanted them.

“Toys,” she murmured.

Grier hummed in approval, her fingers trailing up Tobin’s sides. “Do you have a preference?” she asked curiously.

Tobin gulped and shook her head. Her fear and arousal were raging again. She knew Grier could read confusion on her face and watched as Grier worked through something in her head.

“I have an idea,” Grier said as she moved to place some pillows against the headboard, then reclined against them—propped and inviting. “Come here,” she said, with a comforting smile. “Lie on your back, against me.”