From Vertigo (working title) the follow up to Constant
“Do you feel this?” Opal strokes her fingers over Max's hip then touches the plasteel of his prosthetic leg where it joins his skin.
“Yes,” he tenses but doesn’t stop her.
“Small of my back.”
“I see,” she kneels and lets her lips trace the path her fingers took. “And here?”
Max’s tongue touches his top teeth and he moves a hand to protect his flank as his breath quickens as she moves above his knee.
“Tickles?” Opal asks.
“It’s not supposed to.”
“But you learn them like they learn you. They’re supposed to provide feedback.”
“Not really tickle, more like prickle but it’s gentle and not unpleasant.”
“So you can tell the difference between me touching you here and touching your side?”
Max nods. He hasn’t let her experiment like this before. Prior to today, he’s shown as much interest in sharing the legs with her as he does his tools.
She continues as Max rolls to his back and strokes her knuckles over the inside of the nearly seamless horizontal cylinder which takes the place his knee.
“Too soon,” Max moans as he draws his toes up.
Confused, Opal repeats the touch with her lips and Max brings his hands down to cup himself.
“I wasn’t touching you there,” she explains and Max raises his head to look.
“You were,” his brow creases so she brushes the inside of his knee with her nose. “That’s interesting.”
“Interesting?” Opal leaves a final kiss on the inside of Max’s knee. “I hope this isn’t the last time I’m interesting.”
“Nope,” Max reaches down and pulls Opal up to his side. She shivers so Max takes a moment to get her covered up and finish shedding his shirt. “I don’t think I’ve seen you tired.”
Opal doesn’t mind the change of subject. Warm and wrapped in Max, she sinks under the weight of sheer exhaustion.
“I don’t know how you do it, Max,” she yawns until spots form around the edges of her vision and she has to breathe. “You’re so good at fixing my bad days. I know I was reinstated and should be happy. I am. You just…remind me what’s best about living again.”
“You do the same for me, Opes,” Max replies. His prosthetic legs feel cool against hers and she sinks into a deep sleep, safe and distant from her long day.
(c) Elizabeth Munro 2016