Page 74 of You Made a Fool of Death with Your Beauty

Feyi glanced back at it. “Yeah, I think I’m almost done. It feels close to finished.”

“Ah.” Alim’s voice gave away nothing, but there was still a mass of unsaid things roiling in the air between them. “I can’t wait to see it when it’s complete. Pooja will adore it, I’m sure.”

“I hope so,” Feyi said. “It’s not … pretty.”

“It doesn’t have to be. I don’t think that’s what she was interested in.”

“Yeah. You’re right.”

They stood in the studio, just the two of them and the volume of the painting, until Feyi let go of Alim’s hand so she could start cleaning up. He waited for her by the door, and when she was done, Feyi took his hand again and they walked back up to the house together.

• • •

The darkness was beginning to pale into a hint of morning when Feyi and Alim started the hike up to the mountain peak the next day. They walked in silence, concentrating on beating the sun, and made it up to the clearing just in time. Alim flung a blanket over the grass and collapsed on it. “I can’t remember the last time I made the climb that fast.”

Feyi sat next to him and passed over a bottle of water. “You’ll survive, old man.”

Alim cut his eyes at her. “I’d fight you for that if I had the energy.”

He trickled the water into his mouth without raising his head, then returned the bottle to her, closing his eyes as he caught his breath. Feyi was sweating and taking deep breaths of her own, filling her lungs all the way to the bottom and then releasing the air through her mouth. Her calves and chest burned, but it felt good to be up there, higher than so many things, watching a bird wheel against the opening sky, the way the clouds were slowly starting to pick up colors. Her dress was sticking to her back, and her feet felt stifled in her sneakers. She leaned down to undo the laces, kicking them off and peeling her socks away.

“Mm, good idea.” Alim sat up next to her and did the same, and Feyi rested her chin on her knees, watching his fingers work at the knots.

“I always wished I had hands like yours,” she said.

“Like mine?” He took off his shoes and socks, flexing his feet against the blanket.

“Yeah, you know, piano hands. Long fingers. Oval nails. All those tendons and texture.” Feyi held hers out to compare. “I’ve got such boring hands.”

Alim took her hand and bit the tip of her finger. “That,” he said, kissing her wrist, “is the most”—the inside of her el-bow —“ridiculous thing”—her shoulder—“I’ve ever heard.”

Feyi giggled. “You’re sweet,” she said. The fantasies of his mouth on her from the day before hadn’t eased up. They’d shoved their way into her dreams, waxing lucid, and Feyi had come in her sleep, waking up wet in Alim’s arms. He’d slept through it, and she’d felt like she was keeping a wonderfully indecent secret.

“Your hands are full of texture,” Alim was saying as he traced the scar on her palm.

“Oh, that.” Feyi shrugged. “I don’t count it.”

“It’s yours whether you count it or not.” He said it casually, his fingers flitting over the skin of her forearm, his eyes studying the angle of her elbow. When he glanced up at her, Feyi’s breath caught at the smokiness of his eyes. “You’re the most beautiful thing on this mountain, did you know?”

Alim was looking at her like she was precious and delicate and worth more than he could put together in a lifetime. His legs were long and cloaked in jersey, his arms dark wings, his mouth was a raw fruit. Every brush of his fingers sent a rattle of electricity through Feyi’s skin. The sky was an immense stretch above them, and in the midst of all the dew and cool air, Feyi realized why she’d suggested that they come up here in the first place. Her pulse was hammering through her, quick and steady as she leaned in to kiss Alim, slipping her hand to the back of his neck, her mouth sure against his. He hesitated for a sliver of a second before kissing her back, and Feyi felt her body pool at his touch, the feeling curling in her belly and dropping lower as the slick heat of his tongue pushed into her mouth.

She made a soft sound and reached for every ounce of aliveness that she had, then Feyi pulled herself up, swinging one leg over Alim to straddle him, her dress riding up her thighs and her knees digging into the soft blanket.

Alim broke his mouth away from hers so he could see her face. “Feyi?”

There was no way she was going to have a conversation about this. Feyi started undoing the buttons that ran down the front of her dress, and a small evil thrill ran through her when she saw the panicked desire that flooded Alim’s eyes as he tried to figure out what she was up to.

“What are you doing?” he said, his voice already tangled up, his hands moving to her hips. “We’re outside.”

Feyi laughed. “No one’s coming up here.” The buttons were falling open at her waist now, and her nipple rings pressed against the sheer black bra she was wearing under the dress. Alim’s fingers dug into her hips and against her waistbeads as he drew in a sharp breath.

“Sweetness,” he said, “you have to tell me what’s going on.”

Feyi leaned forward to kiss his neck, her braids washing over both of them. “What do you think?” she whispered into his ear. She could feel him growing hard under the thin cotton of her panties, his desire stretching out the jersey of his joggers. Feyi hid a smile as she bit his earlobe, then gasped as Alim wound a hand in her braids and pulled her head back sharply, curving her throat open.

“Feyi,” he growled, “don’t play with me.”

She wondered if he could feel how wet she was, if it was soaking through the jersey, pooling in the fabric, seeping to his skin underneath. Her face was pinned to the blooming sky, and a bird swooped across the blue. Feyi undid the last few buttons at the hem of her dress.