Terri and Will hadn't been getting on very well at all just recently – she had told him that she had made the pregnancy up and she felt awful for it. Will had been away for a good two weeks now, staying round Emma's house and probably sharing her bed. She hated that he left – though it was her own stupid fault.
At the end of the second week she couldn't stand it anymore and she called him "Will, please come home...we can talk over dinner." She begged him several times until he agreed; she was his high school sweetheart how could he decline?
Dinner went smoothly, she cooked him one of his favourite dinners – Chicken Pot Pie and for a sweet she had made him a chocolate sponge pudding with extra custard. Things lead into the lounge where Will had admitted to Terri that he had actually kissed Emma a number of times. Of course that didn't go down well.
In one fluid move Terri picked up the knife, sliced a wedge, salted her hand, and brought it all home. She saw his expression and said, "Where the hell you think I've been all these years, in some stupid dream...do you not think I've noticed you've changed?" she asked almost angrily.
Will sighed at her and prepared another, and as she watched him, she felt herself relaxing her mood and, inch by inch, coming untethered from the state of anxiousness she had unwittingly adopted as a lifestyle. But when he was ready, Will didn't down this shot. Instead, he held out his hand to her.
She looked down at the salt on his skin and the lime between his thumb and finger. Terri didn't look up at him because she was afraid if she did she would change her mind instead of taking the leap – if they did this he couldn't leave, she had to have him back in her house, her life. She bent toward his hand and darted her tongue out, quickly at first, but then, choosing to slow the moment down, she lingered there licking the salt off his skin. He offered her the shot and she fired it back and then, cradling his wrist in her fingers, she guided the lime wedge he was holding to her lips.
The burst of lime juice cleansed her palate, and as she swallowed, the warmth from the tequila spread from her stomach to her limbs, filling her with luxurious buoyancy. She closed her eyes and ran her tongue on her lips again, tasting the citrus and salt. Terri wasn't at all drunk, it was something else. She was letting go. The simple things people take for granted. For the first time she could remember in a long time, she was flat-out relaxed. That's when she realized she was still holding Will's wrist. He didn't seem to mind.
They didn't speak. Terri licked her own hand and salted it. Held a wedge. Poured a shot. And then she offered her hand to him. Unlike her, he didn't avert his gaze. He brought her hand up to him and put his lips on it and tasted the salt and then the saltiness of her skin around it as they stared at each other. Then he drank the shot and bit the lime she gave to him. They held eye contact like that, neither one moving. Only this time Terri didn't break off, like she would have normally done. While Will was away she had come to realise a few things about herself, him and their relationship – she treated him like shit and he deserved better, much better. Now she knew that she was willing to give herself to him completely.
Tentatively, slowly, each drew an inch closer, each still silent, each still holding the other's steady gaze. Whatever worry or uncertainty or conflict she'd felt before, she pushed it aside as too much thinking. At that moment, Terri didn't want to think. She wanted to be. She reached out and gently touched his jaw. She rose up on one knee and leaned forward to him and, rising above him, lightly kissed his cheek. Terri hovered there, studying the play of shadows and candlelight on his face. The soft ends of her hair dangled down and brushed him. He reached out, gently smoothing one side back, lightly stroking her temple as he did. Leaning there above him, Terri could feel the warmth from his chest coming up to meet hers and she inhaled the mild scent of his cologne. The flickering of the candles gave the room a feeling of motion. She pressed herself down to him and he came to meet her, the two of them not so much moving as drifting weightless toward each other, attracted by some irresistible force in nature that had no name, colour, or taste, only heat.
And then what began so gently took on its own life. They flew to each other, locking open mouths together, crossing some line that dared them, and they took it. They tasted deeply and touched each other with a frenzy of eagerness fired by wonder and craving, the two of them released at last to test the edge of their passion.
Terri pulled away from Will, tearing herself away from him, and sat up. Chest heaving, soaked with perspiration, both his and her own, she listened to his breathing and then when consumed by her own breathing, she stood. She held out her hand to Will and he took it, rising up to stand with her.
One candle had sparked brightly and died but one was still burning. Terri picked that one up and used it to light the way for them to her bedroom. She then mentally thanked herself for setting out the candles earlier on that day – it had made the evening much more enjoyable.
Terri led him wordlessly into their bedroom and set the candle on the dresser, in front of the mirror, which multiplied its light. She turned to find Will there, close to her, magnetic. She folded her arms around his neck and drew his mouth to hers; he wrapped his long arms around her waist and tugged her body to him. Their kisses were deep and urgent, familiar all at once, her tongue finding the depth and sweetness of his open mouth while he explored hers. One of his hands began to reach for her blouse but hesitated. She clutched it and placed it on her breast. The heat of the room was tropical, and as he touched her, Terri felt his fingers ride the slick of perspiration above the dampness of her bra. She lowered her hand and found him and he moaned softly. Terri began to sway, then he did, too, both doing a slow dance in some sort of delicious vertigo.
Will walked her backward toward thier bed. When her calves met the edge of it, she let herself do a slow fall back, pulling him with her. As they both floated down, she pulled him closer and twisted, surprising Will by landing on top of him. He looked up at her from the mattress and said, "You're good."
"You have no idea," she said – having been hiding her passions and lusts all these years. They dove into each other again, and her tongue picked up the faint acid tang of lime and then salt. Her mouth left his to kiss his face and then his ear. She felt the muscles of his abdomen flex hard against her as he curled his head upward, nibbling the soft flesh where her neck met her collarbone. Terri stirred and began to unbutton his shirt. Will was making a project out of her blouse button so she rose up, straddled him on both knees and ripped the blouse open, hearing one of her buttons skitter against the hardwood floor near the baseboard. With one hand, Will unhooked the front clasp of her bra. Terri shook her arms out of it and made a frenzied dive onto him. Their wet skin made a slap as her chest landed on his. She reached down and unhooked his belt. Then undid his zipper. Terri kissed him again and whispered, "I need you Will, I need you now more than ever."
"You have me," he said. "You'll always have me."
"I'm so sorry." And she pounced on him, her heart pounding high in her chest with excitement and tension. A wave crashed over Terri and washed away all the conflicted feelings and misgivings she had been wrestling with, and she was simply, mightily, powerfully swept up. In that instant, Terri became free. Free of responsibility. Free of control. Free of herself. Swirling, she clung to Will, needing to feel every part of him she could touch. They held on with a fury, his passion matching hers as they explored each other, moving, biting, hungry, reaching and reaching to satisfy what they ached for.