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Back Devotion Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  1. Cover
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. Acknowledgments
  46. About the Author
  47. About the Publisher

Behind me James angled my hips up, away from Lonnie. I drew them back down, but he insisted, shoving himself quickly inside me, deep deep, all of a sudden so deep it was painful. Above Lonnie, my body casting a dark shadow over her, James gripped me by my waist and moved me back and forth, back and forth. I thought of the swings at the playground. The way you could move and move and move without going anywhere.

I couldn’t see James. Lonnie was looking off somewhere behind me, but it didn’t appear to be at him. She was conscious, blinking up at the ceiling, but what was wrong with her? If it had been Carlow’s cock inside me would she be getting off on it? I was between them, experiencing something, but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with the sex they had. That time she had told me, “We still make love all the time.” The way she laid her legs across him, kissed him, smiled at him. This somehow wasn’t the sex they had, even though this was the sex we were having. Why was she ruining everything? This was supposed to be an enlightening experience for me. I was supposed to be let into something intimate here, but she was keeping me at such a distance. I wanted to yell at her, “Stop moping!” I might have said it. I know I hit her lightly across the cheek and then harder, the way James had hit me. It didn’t change anything. She just lay there blinking. We can only understand “Lonnie” in relation to “Elle.” In resignation, I just took her limp hand and rubbed it against my clit until I came, shuddering, bucking against James. It didn’t take long.

38

LONNIE SLEPT THE SLEEP OF THE DEAD NEXT TO ME THAT NIGHT and I didn’t sleep at all. I had the sensation of trying to hold sand, but terrible, grotesque, nightmarish. Everything was slipping through me, slipping away.

I could still touch her, it occurred to me in the night as she slept.

My hand on her chest. The way her body collapsed a little with each exhale—chest caving in like she was imploding in tiny degrees. It fell and rose but did not seem to rise as much as it fell. I touched her in different spots—a shoulder, her stomach, neck, cheek. I slid my hand under the sheet and slipped my fingertip across the soft bump of her nipple. I ran my fingertips across the waves of her hair, spread out around her on the pillow. I was gripped by panic. All those cells already dead.