"She was amazing," Bea said, her hand sliding up to trace over his shoulders, slipping over the freckled skin there with idle affection. "You know, that's one of the few things I really remember about my mom before all the bad stuff. She loved Elizabeth Taylor."
She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his collar bone, then one to his shoulder as she wrapped her arms tighter around him. "In your memoir, promise you'll refer to my breasts as 'apocalyptic'. And call me something like 'a dark, unyielding largesse'."