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398 pages, Kindle Edition
First published May 14, 2013
"If I may be so bold, Olivia…" Florence leans closer and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Your husband is quite dashing, but his adventurous spirit is… well, it makes him just irresistible."
"I…I beg your pardon?"
"My dear, I'm seventy-three years old," Florence says. "And in fifty-one years of marriage, I can only wish that my husband had even once shagged me in a coat closet."
She winks at me, then turns and walks away.
"We'll talk tomorrow, Liv." He tightens his arm around me and brushes his mouth against my temple. "Right now I want you naked against me. I want to wake up cold because you're hogged all the blankets. I want to feel your leg between mine, your hair in my face, your arm flung across my chest. I want to find myself on the edge of the bed in the morning because you're sprawled all over the mattress. I want to sleep with you."
I tilted my head back to look at him. He’d waited a long time for me. His gaze searched mine.
“Thanks for waiting,” I whispered.
“My beauty,” he said, “I’d wait for you forever.”
"You have to let me fail, Dean, and you have to believe I can get back up on my own."
"I know you can."
My heart constricts. "But you have to let me prove it. You have to accept that I'm going to get hurt, but also that I can be self-reliant. You can't always save me."
I laugh. “Lovely sentiment, but why did you draw a picture of a smiling butt?”
“A what?”
“A smiling but,” I hold out the note.
“That’s a coffee bean.”
"The butterflies migrate to survive," I say. "They need to escape the cold. They need nourishment. And once they have that, they always return home."
In that place of us, Liv and Dean, love has its own poetry and language. Allure, quatrefoil, fleur-de-lis. Right here. PR9199.3 R5115 Y68. My white knight. I'm yours. Give me a kiss. Pie love you. I remember. Professor. Beauty.
The sound of textbook pages turning as rain pours outside the window. The twist of a string around his long fingers. That tight, knotted ball inside me opening, flowering into pleasure for the first time ever. Papers about library collections, medieval architecture, database systems, and archeological surveys.
Quiet weekends, board games, take-out pizza, houseplants, and boring foreign films. The soft, gentle healing of old wounds. The glide of his palm over my skin, his deep voice whispering in my ear. The easing of my heart.
The way he looks at me. The way I smile at him. The way we can always just be us.
“He tightens his arm around me and brushes his mouth against my temple. “Right now I want you naked against me. I want to wake up cold because you’ve hogged all the blankets. I want to feel your leg between mine, your hair in my face, your arm flung across my chest… I want to sleep with you.”
“We both want this so badly. I can feel it resonating between us like the hot pull of our first attraction, tangible and intense.”
“He is imprinted in my bones, my soul. He has marked me in ways more permanent than time.”
“The allure, huh?”
“I’ve learned a few things about castle architecture over the years.” Liv wraps one arm around my waist. “The allure is a passage behind the parapet of a castle wall. Great for defense when the enemy is approaching. You know you’re safe on the allure.” She tucks her head beneath my chin, twining her hand with mine. “Like we’re safe with each other.”
“No doubt about it, beauty.” I press my face against her sweet-smelling hair. “You’ll always be my allure.”
“Thanks for waiting,” I whispered.
“My beauty,” he said. “I’d wait for you forever.”
“We want the unending spirals of bliss we can create only with each other. We want to shut the rest of the world out while locking ourselves in together.”
“He is imprinted in my bones, my soul. He has marked me in ways more permanent than time.”
“I press my face against her sweet-smelling hair. “You’ll always be my allure.”
“You and me, beauty,” he reminds me, his eyes gentle.
“You and me, professor.”
"You and me, beauty."
"You and me, professor."
"He is imprinted in my bones, my soul. He has marked me in ways more permanent than time."
"No doubt about it beauty." I press my face against her sweet-smelling hair. "You'll always be my allure."
"Be with me, Liv," he said. "Just be with me."
I looked at him and thought that for the first time in my life there was nowhere else I wanted or needed to be.
"I can't look at anyone but you, Liv. I can't see anyone but you. I'm...I'm so fucking crazy about you that it's scaring the shit out of me."
"You know I'm not much of a romantic." He looks at me. "But that semester, even I had to admit it was more than just a coincidence."
"What was?"
"The fact that I was studying the perfect harmony of the stars and planets at the exact same time I was falling in love with you."
Liv has been on her own most of her life, she's never had anyone taken care of her. That is until she least Dean. He soon becomes her rock, her everything and in a way that has made her become vulnerable. But unlike what happened in Arouse, this time, Liv shows that, although Dean is still there to support her no matter what, she's also strong enough on her own. She's strong enough to not let . She's now a strong woman, who will stand by her husband at all times, and for that I really admitted her.
"Remember when you told me everyone has a key to unlocking their secrets?" I whispered. "And you wanted to know what mine was?"
He nodded. "And you told me you didn't have a key."
"I think I do."
"What is it?"
"You."
"Thanks for waiting," I whispered.
"My beauty," he said. "I'd wait for you forever."
"For despite our differences, our struggles, our childhoods at opposite ends of the spectrum... Dean and I were the same.”
“I now understand the fierce protectiveness that Dean has always had for me. I know that white-hot burn of rage, the certainty that you would do anything, anything, to make things right. I hate the helpless feeling simmering at the edge of my anger, the fear that my husband could be hurt. I want to stand in front of him like some avenging angel, battling anyone who dares to try and destroy what he has worked so hard to build.”
In that place of us, Liv and Dean, love has its own poetry and language. Allure, quatrefoil, fleur-de-lis. Right here. PR9199.3 R5115 Y68. My white knight. I’m yours. Give me a kiss. Pie love you. I remember. Professor. Beauty.
I’ve spent the last weeks craving exactly this—the press of my husband’s powerful body against mine, the full weight of him on top of me. I’ve longed for him to take me, reclaim me, promise me I will always be his. I’ve been desperate to surrender to him again.
“Remember when you told me everyone has a key to unlocking their secrets?” I whispered. “And you wanted to know what mine is?”
He nodded. “And you told me you didn’t have a key.”
“I think I do.”
“What is it?”
“You.”
“Okay, professor.” She squeezes my hands and takes a deep breath. “Let’s get ready for defense. Pull up the drawbridge, boil the oil, station crossbows along the allure.”
My tension eases a little more. I disentangle one of my hands from hers so I can brush my thumb over the notch just beneath her lower lip.
“The allure, huh?”
"When I thinking of you my love,
I feel like anything is possible.
When you're back in my arms again,
I know that we will be unstoppable.
One look, one night, one lonely touch.
The dark, the light, I miss you too much.
What's wrong, what's right, It's never enough,
No, it's never enough. No."
Re-read from January 17 to 18, 2015![]()
“Thanks for waiting,” I whispered.
“My beauty,” he said,
“I’d wait for you forever.”
"Right now I want you naked against me. I want to wake up cold because you've hogged all the blankets. I want to feel your leg between mine, your hair in my face, your arm flung across my chest. I want to find myself on the edge of the bed in the morning because you've sprawled all over the mattress. I want to sleep with you."
He is imprinted in my bones, my soul. He has marked me in ways more permanent than time.
"I can't look at anyone but you, Liv. I can't see anyone but you. I...I'm so fucking crazy about you that it's scaring the shit out of me."
"Thanks for waiting," I whispered. "My beauty," he said, "I'd wait for you forever."
"What's your key, Olivia?" "My key?" "An Old friend once told me that everyone has a key to unlocking their secrets. What's yours?" "Um... I'm pretty sure I don't have a key." "I'm pretty sure you do." "Well, if everyone has one," I said, "what's yours?" "Ah." A twinkle flashed in his eyes. "You have to discover that yourself." "Then you have to do the same with me." "Challenge accepted."
And somewhere in the midst of the slick pleasure, I wonder when everything became so comfortable with Dean, when I'd lost my inhibitions and discovered that being sexy could be so breathtaking, so satisfying. So easy. Maybe there hadn't been a moment of discovery at all. Maybe, with Dean, it had just always been like this.
Our relationship, our love, cannot and will never be perfect. It will, however, always belong only to us in all its flawed, intense beauty. Perfect in its very imperfection.
I looked at him. His posture was loose, his beautiful mouth curved, his eyes gentle and amused. He reached out and drew a lock of my hair between his fingers, then tucked it behind my ear.
“You’re with me,” he said.
It was such a simple, obvious statement and yet it was weighted with implications of comfort and reassurance.
"What's your key, Oliva?"
"My key?"
"An old friend once told me that everyone has a key to unlocking their secrets. What's yours?"