“Oh god,” I moan. “Oh, Camille.” Saying her name is the very thing that pushes me over. And as the heat engulfs me, and the white light erupts inside my mind, for the life of me, I can’t keep my eyes open. But even when my eyelids fall shut, she is still all I see. There’s no one or nothing else.

When I come to and open my eyes, a soft smile plays on her lips. Her fingers retreat and, in a gesture that has already become quite predictable, she brings them to her mouth and licks them. It’s enough for me to want them buried deep inside of me again. To want to repeat this all night long. I really do owe Caitlin for getting me the morning off tomorrow. Right now, it’s everything. Nothing is more important. Because it’s not just the extra few hours tomorrow, but the effect they have on tonight. It adds a carefreeness we need right now.

“You showed me,” she says. “I’ve seen more than enough.” She flanks my body with hers and kisses me. “I think we should reposition the camera now.”

Chapter Thirteen

The morning comes too soon, even though we have done everything possible to make time slow down. Nothing worked. Time just kept marching on, which, we concluded, would help us during the two months we’ll spend apart.

“No tears,” Camille says just after we’ve woken up. “What happened to us is a good thing. A glorious thing. Tears will only ruin it.”

“I’ll try.” I remember my tears from last night vividly, how they ran hotly over my cheeks, then pooled into a cold mess on my neck. “I promise.”

“I’ll call you when I get to Hong Kong. It’ll be evening here.”

“My phone won’t leave my side all day.”

“I will write you a long email when I’m on the plane.”

“God, it’s such a long journey.”

“Nine hours to Hong Kong. Five hour lay-over. Then thirteen hours to Paris. It’s not for the faint of heart.” She chuckles.

“My heart won’t be faint when I embark on the same journey in two months. I’ll book my ticket today.”

“Hopefully you’ll still want to come by then.”

“I can’t think of any reason why not.”

“Hm.” Camille pretends to be thinking deeply. “What if… Dominique Laroche invites me for a threesome with her and Stéphanie?”

“Then you’d better tell her to wait until July so we can make it a foursome.”

“I think we might be too old for her anyway.” She’s giggling like a schoolgirl. She scoots closer to me, if that’s even possible, her leg over mine, her warm body pressed to me, her arm wound tightly around my torso. “I don’t want to go home.”