His voice was electric. It seemed to sing sweetly in her ear, swinging and swaying like a jazz trumpet solo that would never end. It made her feel drunk and lightheaded and dizzy with the thought of what they could do between sheets made of silk or satin.

He had to stop doing this to her. Stop making her feel so hot and free-flowing. He had to stop doing this.

“Could you pass the peas?” he asked

His hand grazed hers just so when the bowl was passed. That touch was enough. Enough to send shivers, enough to plant thoughts. She released a tiny whimper and her top lip quivered.

He gave her a worried look. “You okay?”

“Oh, I…I’m just-just fine.” Her voice was a breathy, husky southern drawl. She imagined the music their voices would make together: the soft prelude, lush and light, and then the crescendo into the middle phrase, full and swelling, and then the climax, frantic and feverish. She sipped her glass of iced tea, savoring the coolness on her hot tongue. If only it could cool the rest of me, she thought.

Everyone else at the table seemed to be in their own world. No one noticed how flustered she looked or the lust that filled her eyes. She looked at the thin band of gold on his finger and then stared at her own wedding ring. They didn’t match, but they should. It wasn’t her husband’s face that she longed for when she touched herself in that special way and she just knew that her sister couldn’t satisfy him, couldn’t make his voice sing for her like she could.

He had to stop doing this to her. Stop making her think these indecent thoughts. He had to stop doing this.

“Mmmm, this food is so good.” He looked right into her eyes. “Did you make the greens, Sheila?” He licked his lips.

She couldn’t take it anymore. “Lionel, um, could you help me g-get the pies out of the kitchen.”

“Sure,” he said, licking his fingers as he rose from his chair.

Her knees went wobbly. She composed herself, trying to calm the beat-beat-beat of her heart as she pushed the door of the kitchen open and he walked in behind her. She had intended on seducing him then, but couldn’t. She grabbed one of the chess pies but then felt his presence close to her, his warm breath on her neck, his hand on her thigh, his electric voice singing softly in her ear.

“I want you, too.”

He had to stop doing this.

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