Girl Who Played with Fire, The - Stieg Larsson [49]
Mimmi came back and put two mugs on a stool beside the bed. She crawled onto the bed and leaned over to nibble at one of Salander’s nipples.
“They’ll do,” she said.
Salander said nothing. She looked at Mimmi’s breasts. Mimmi’s breasts were small too, but they looked completely natural on her body.
“If I’m going to be honest, Lisbeth, you look fantastic.”
“That’s silly. My breasts don’t really make any difference one way or the other, but at least I’ve got some now.”
“You’re so hung up about your body.”
“You’re one to talk, working out like an idiot.”
“I work out like an idiot because I like to work out. It’s a kick, almost as good as sex. You ought to try it.”
“I do some boxing.”
“Bullshit—you boxed once a month max. And mostly because you got a buzz out of smacking those snotty guys around. That’s not the same as working out to feel good.”
Salander shrugged. Mimmi sat straddling her.
“Lisbeth, you’re so obsessed. You should know by now that I like having you in bed not because of how you look but because of the way you act. I think you’re sexy as hell.”
“You too. That’s why I kept coming back.”
“Not for love?” Mimmi said, pretending to be hurt.
Salander shook her head.
“Are you seeing somebody?”
Mimmi hesitated a moment before she nodded.
“Maybe. In a way. Possibly. It’s a little complicated.”
“I’m not snooping.”
“I know, but I don’t mind telling you. It’s someone at the university who’s a little older than me. She’s been married twenty years, but her husband travels a lot, so we get together when he’s not around. Suburbs, villa, all that. She’s a closet dyke. It’s been going on since last autumn and it’s getting a bit boring. But she’s really luscious. And then I hang out with the usual gang, of course.”
“I was just wondering whether I could come and see you again.”
“I’d really like to hear from you.”
“Even if I disappear for another six months?”
“Just keep in touch. I’d like to know if you’re dead or alive. And in any case I’ll remember your birthday.”
“No strings?”
Mimmi sighed and smiled.
“You know, you’re a dyke I could imagine living with. You’d leave me alone when I wanted to be left alone.”
Salander said nothing.
“Apart from the fact that you’re not really a dyke. You’re probably bisexual. But most of all you’re sexual—you like sex and you don’t care about what gender. You’re an entropic chaos factor.”
“I don’t know what I am,” Salander said. “But I’m in Stockholm now and pretty bad at relationships. In fact, I don’t know one single person here. You’re the first person I’ve talked to since I got home.”
Mimmi studied her with a serious expression.
“Do you really want to know people? You’re the most secretive and unapproachable person I know. But your breasts really are luscious.” She put her fingers under one nipple and stretched the skin. “They fit you. Not too big and not too small.”
Salander sighed with relief that the reviews were satisfactory.
“And they feel real.”
She squeezed the breast so hard that Salander gasped. They looked at each other. Then Mimmi bent and gave Salander a deep kiss. Salander responded and threw her arms around Mimmi. The coffee was left to get cold.
CHAPTER 7
Saturday, January 29–Sunday, February 13
At around 11:00 on Saturday morning, a car drove into Svavelsjö between Järna and Vagnhärad—the community consisted of no more than fifteen buildings—and stopped in front of the last building, about 500 feet outside the village proper. It was a tumbledown industrial structure that had once been a printing factory but now had a sign over the main door identifying it as Svavelsjö Motorcycle Club. There was no other car in sight. Nevertheless the driver looked around carefully before he got out of