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If the Shoe Fits

Page 27

by E. J. Noyes


  More sensations, definitely not vague. The weight of her, the smoothness of the back of her thigh and the way she shuddered when I slid my fingers over it, the low hoarse groan when I pressed my thigh between her legs, and how her sweetly tormenting hands roamed my body with such infinite care. I sucked her earlobe, licked her neck, bit her. “God, I want your mouth on me.”

  “Okay.” Brooke shifted slightly, opened her mouth wide and suctioned herself to the inside of my elbow.

  I froze. “What…are you doing?”

  Her eyes came up to my face. “Pufing mah moufon oo.”

  For a moment, I could do nothing but stare at her, stuck on my arm like a lamprey. Then I cracked up, laughing until my eyes teared. “Oh my God. Come here.”

  Brooke detached herself from my skin and climbed up. She kissed me, her lips still lifted in a smile. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself, and I totally broke the sexy mood. I’m such a weirdo.” She shifted so we were lying side by side, facing one another. Her hand roamed until it found my ass.

  “Yeah you are, must be why I like you so much. And trust me, the sexy mood is very much unbroken. In fact, I think it might have even amplified a little. I don’t remember ever having fun in bed like this, or come to think of it, I could also say fun outside of bed the way we do.”

  “Stop, rewind. Go back to the part where you said you like me.”

  “Actually I said I like you so much. As in a lot.” My hand trailed lazily down her stomach and slipped between her legs. “I’d like to try something, if you don’t mind.”

  She lifted her hips, pressing into my hand. “Whatever you want, baby.”

  Baby…

  For some reason that endearment sent a thrill through my core. “Lie down on your back,” I murmured.

  Brooke rolled over slowly, her eyes on me the whole time. “Whatever you’re about to do, I think I’m going to enjoy it very much.”

  “As much as I will, I hope.” I straddled her, tilting forward until I was pressed against the tense muscle of her stomach.

  “Yep,” she squeaked. “Definite enjoyment.”

  Slowly, I rocked, taking my time to enjoy the motion and accompanying waves of pleasure with every press of skin to skin. I exhaled a long breath, which turned to a gasp as the unmistakable stirring of an orgasm building rolled through my body.

  She paused, swallowed visibly. “I, uh, that’s—”

  “What?” I breathed.

  “I was just thinking about how I called you cowgirl.”

  “Oh? You like being…ridden like this?” I rolled my hips forward, grinding into her, drawing out the sensation.

  “Yeah, kinda, a lot,” she choked out. Brooke’s legs came up, her feet flat on the bed and her thighs pressed into my ass, holding me in place. Her smirk was unmistakable. “You’re totally topping me right now.”

  My voice came out a hoarse whisper. “Is that a bad thing?” I pulled her hands to my breasts, holding them against me.

  “Not at all. But I had imagined I’d have to spend a bit more time showing you the ropes.” Brooke’s fingers kneaded, thumbs strafing over my nipples. Her eyes burned with desire, her undisguised need made me feel exposed, seen. Not an unpleasant sensation, but scary all the same. Scary to feel so needed, so desired, and scary to need her so much already.

  My words came out clipped, stuttered around my sharp intakes of breath. “I think you’ve done an excellent job of giving me the basics but I want to move on to the advanced course.” I ground down harder on her. “I’m sorry, this is selfish of me but you feel so good and this is one of my favorite positions.”

  Her eyes went wide. “No, baby, it’s not selfish. It’s hot. Watching you riding me is so fucking sexy.” Slowly, she traced her hands down my chest, over my stomach until they came to rest on my hips. “A favorite hey?” Brooke rocked me forward, rolled me back, over and over again until my breathing was so erratic I was on the verge of hyperventilating.

  “Mhmm.”

  Then she drew a hand down between my thighs until her thumb pressed firmly against my clit. “Mine too.”

  Warning jolts shot through me and I cautioned her, “That’s going to make me come.”

  “Good,” she murmured. “Do you want my fingers inside you again? Do you want me to fuck you?” Her thumb moved with sure, steady strokes, which made decision making impossible.

  “I don’t know, oh God,” I groaned. All I knew was that I had to come.

  “Or do you want me to get something else to fuck you with?” She slid further between my legs, teasing my entrance, slicking through my wetness before coming back to stroke my clit. “I have toys…” She drew her hands up to my hips, tracing lightly over my skin. “A harness.”

  I had to bite my lip to stop the scream that was threatening and all I could do was shake my head no. No, I didn’t want anything other than what she was doing to me in that moment. Later, maybe, but now? Now was so fucking good. So good. For me. Wait. For me.

  I forced myself to focus, to be still. “You keep talking about toys, am I missing a cue here? Is this toyless sex too vanilla?” I tried to be teasing, but I could hear the uncertain note in my question.

  “Oh fuck no, not at all.” Her stomach muscles clenched underneath me. “I think maybe I’m just overthinking it, worrying it’s not good enough for you because it’s, uh different to what you’re used to.”

  “Oh, honey, it’s plenty good enough. Beyond good enough.” I rolled my hips forward and back again, slow and teasing. “For sure, we can do that soon. If you really want, then I want.”

  “I do. And not because of…you know. I want to, because fucking you like that would be so hot. And you fucking me will feel so, damned, good.” She punctuated those last words with firm strokes. “But this is incredible.”

  “It is.” I sat up, twisting around so I could reach between her thighs. With a hand braced behind myself on her knee, I could balance enough to slip my other hand…down…Christ, right there. “As is this.”

  She was so wet and hot, and the moment I found her clit, Brooke gasped, her legs jerking against my ass. “Oh fuck.”

  I loved the way her breathing hitched, the way her voice grew high and tight as I touched her, and barely managed to concentrate with the slow suffusion of pleasure rippling through my body to ask, “Can you come like this?”

  Her words were clipped. “If you keep doing what you’re doing, then yes.”

  I had no intention of stopping, not until she’d come. I let her set the rhythm, keeping pace with her as she slicked and teased and stroked my heat. She didn’t enter me but kept up that knowing movement of fingers on my clit until I was on the brink of exploding.

  Her hips bucked underneath me and she sat up abruptly, one arm coming around my waist, the other hand still pressed between my legs, expertly driving me toward climax. Then her hot mouth was on mine, her tongue surprisingly gentle considering how frantic our other movements were. The slipperiness of her, the chafe of nipples against mine, the wet warmth of her under my fingers combined with her skillful stroking tipped me over the edge. Not that there was any doubt, but I couldn’t stop myself, muttering a helpless, “Fuck, I’m coming.”

  As the first tremor came over me, I moaned against her mouth and surrendered, trying desperately not to lose touch with her. Brooke shuddered, an indistinguishable sound rising to match mine as her hips jerked, pressing her clit firmly into my fingers.

  I buried my face in her neck, trying to steady my breathing and ride out my climax. Brooke carefully eased her hand from between us, wrapping her arms around me, holding me close until I could feel my limbs again. Loosely slinging my arms around her shoulders, I held on, kept my face pressed to her neck, planting soft kisses on whatever skin I could reach. “How do you do that?” I mumbled.

  “Do what?” she asked, breathless.

  “That. Make me come like that? It’s like an orgasm on crack, the best I’ve ever had. Complete and utter digit-tingling, toe-curlin
g, stomach-clenching full body feeling.”

  It wasn’t just the actual orgasm that made sex with her so fabulous. It was all the small details that seemed to coalesce during our lovemaking that took it from great to utterly incredible. Like the feeling of her hair on my skin, silken and soft as it trailed in the wake of Brooke’s kisses—it was a sensation I’d never encountered and now never wanted to be without. Her words, sometimes sensual, sometimes filthy. The way she touched me, seeming to know exactly how and where I needed it. The sound she made when I touched her.

  She grinned. “Naw, you’re just saying that.”

  “Nuh-uh. Seriously.” Shakily, I declared, “That was definitely a twelve out of ten.”

  After dinner, an episode of Dexter and five minutes of languorous goodbye kisses, I went home. Home to my empty house and cold bed. Get a grip, Jana. It’s the same bed you’ve been sleeping in alone for how many years now?

  But now, sleeping, waking up alone, going to the gym, eating breakfast, showering and dressing for work all felt kind of empty and stale without her. As I closed my front door to leave for work, I gave myself another mental shake. Just over a week of dating does not a lifetime commitment make. Well, no, but there was nothing wrong with not liking being apart from her. Nothing wrong with enjoying her company in and out of bed.

  My day was mercifully uneventful. Drafting documents with Erin, teaching moments with Belinda, meeting with a client, court appearance with a very favorable outcome. As I walked back to the office, I realized Jana Celebrates was going to be a whole lot more exciting now that I had someone to share it with. Brooke’s day was running long so we decided she should come home with me. She met me by my car, greeting me with a short hug and a long kiss…after she’d glanced quickly around the parking garage. She stared at the Porsche, in its usual spot, which included a few stolen inches of my spot, frowned and muttered, “God, my dad parks like an asshole.”

  There was no other response for that revelation except to laugh.

  We decided that we’d take a walk to collect dinner, and when we stepped out of my apartment building the sky was slowly darkening into evening, twilight making everything seem warm and sensual. Without thinking I took her hand, entwining our fingers as we strolled along the sidewalk. An older guy walking toward us stared as he approached, his mouth set in a tight line. As he passed, he said something under his breath that I didn’t quite catch and didn’t care to turn around to figure out. Brooke’s grip tightened, then eased almost as though she was about to pull her hand from mine.

  I glanced down. “Is this not okay?”

  It took her a few moments to answer, and when she did it seemed like she was forcing herself to sound casual. “Sure. I just haven’t ever really done the whole public affection thing.” She made a nervous gesture. “Just habit with my dad and stuff, and honestly I’ve never really dated someone who was into it.”

  “Oh. Well, I’m into it but if you’re not, then…” I loosened my fingers and moved to disengage my hand but she gripped it tighter and pulled me to a stop.

  Her smile was tight. “Really? Even with that asshole who clearly doesn’t like fuckin’ dykes, as he so helpfully told us on his way past.”

  “Yes, really. Babe, I don’t give a shit what other people think. When it comes to you and me, the only person whose opinion I care about is yours. I’m not ashamed of being with you. Why would I be?”

  She shifted uncomfortably and I realized I might have gone a little too far with my who cares attitude. I added, “I’m not saying you’re ashamed of us.”

  “Good, because I’m not,” she insisted quietly. “I’m just…wary. Worried about being safe.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” I drew her hands to my chest, held them tight. “I just really like you and I like being with you and I want to hold your hand when we’re out in public. I guess I just want everyone to know I have a smart, funny, sexy, beautiful, and incredibly good in bed girlfriend.”

  “Well they’re going to know that by the way you keep looking at me,” she said dryly.

  “And how’s that?”

  “Like I’m a piece of meat hanging in the window of that butcher’s shop across the road.”

  I followed her gaze. “A butcher. Fleischerei. It’s fate.”

  She lowered her voice. “Despite the fact you’re talking about a person who cuts up meat for a living, you sound so fucking sexy. Do you speak German often?”

  “Every few weeks when I talk to my grandparents. Sometimes with my dad, usually when there’s a word or phrase that just doesn’t work in English. And whenever Sabs gets an urge. She’s so weird, like she can barely go a day without it. She says she loves the way German feels in her mouth.” I grinned. “Take from that what you will.”

  “I see.”

  “Oma and Opa speak English just fine. It’s more just that I like having this special thing with them, but it’s not really a big deal. One set of grandparents are German, the other Californian, just the way it is.”

  Her left eyebrow twitched up. “Do you speak Valley Girl with the Californian grandparents?”

  “Like totally oh my Godddd, like whatever Malibu and LA and, uh, shit.”

  Her answering laugh was loud and free.

  I stepped in, leaning forward to talk quietly against her ear. “I know a whole lot more than just that one German word. Maybe later I’ll give you a little language demonstration, teach you some of my favorite dirty phrases…”

  She sucked in a quick breath and kissed me right there on the sidewalk with people slipping around us.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Brooke’s grasp of the finer points of dirty German phrases was both quick and accurate. Jana Celebrates indeed. By the time we’d exhausted and satisfied one another it was past eleven p.m. Groaning, with regular frustration instead of sexual frustration, Brooke rolled over. “I should get going.”

  I squirmed my way across the bed, hugging her from behind. “Mmm. It’s late.” I couldn’t help myself, kissing her neck and shoulders, breathing her in. I stroked the smooth skin of her stomach and added, “You could stay the night.” The words had come out before I’d even registered what I was about to say.

  It wouldn’t be the first time we’d had a sleepover, but it would be the first time on a weeknight with the added logistics of work the morning after. She didn’t answer and I hastened to add, “Or not, I mean, whatever. I know what we agreed.” That things like weeknight sleepovers might move things forward too quickly. Too late. I was already moved.

  “Yes, we did say that,” she said carefully. “Honestly, I’m so tired and I’d love to stay but I’m just thinking about the morning and the fact I don’t have any work clothes here. Boring stuff like that.”

  “I can take you in if you want, it’s just a short detour to grab your clothes or whatever you need. We can go as early as you want.” Short detour wasn’t quite right. It’d be a drive in the opposite direction then back again and add at least forty minutes to my commute. But I didn’t care.

  “I’m not sure I trust your driving,” she said, half-serious, half-teasing.

  “Puh-leeease. Didn’t you see that news piece last week about the bus crash? The driver went right through a red light. I’ve never done that. Never had an accident, just a couple of speeding tickets. A couple in almost twenty years of driving. Pretty good record, I must say.” I kissed the edge of her ear. “Anyway, it’s just a thought.”

  “Mmm.” She rolled back over and snuggled against me. “I like your thought.”

  I decided to skip my morning gym session in favor of cuddling in bed with Brooke. Okay, cuddling with a little kissing thrown in for good measure. I made my usual breakfast, multiplied by two, and we ate while checking news and social media on our phones and talking about plans for the rest of the week. We decided I should pack a bag in case I ended up staying over at her place that night, and the relationship-ness of the whole situation was simultaneously weird, scary, and wonderful.
r />   The moment I’d drained my last mouthful of coffee, Brooke insisted on cleaning up and shooed me off to shower, get dressed, and put a face on. I slid dresses and suits along my racks until I found something that said, “Hello, new client, why yes I am a very capable and compassionate divorce attorney.” A dark gray dress with three-quarter sleeves and a boat neckline. I wandered back into my kitchen, doing up the clasp on a simple gold necklace. Brooke sat at the table, fiddling with one of the cooler bags that normally lived atop my fridge.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “It’s um, lunch.” Her cheeks pinked as she pushed the cooler bag toward me. “I made it for you. Sorry it’s nothing special, just leftovers from dinner and some other stuff I found in your fridge and pantry.”

  My brain was so stuck on the fact she’d used relaxing-with-coffee time to make me lunch that I couldn’t make my hands move to grab the bag.

  The pinkness turned to full-on embarrassed redness. “It’s silly. Sorry, I should have asked. You’ve probably got a lunch meeting or something on today.”

  She grabbed for the bag but I snagged it before she could grasp it. “Mine,” I mumbled like a cavewoman. Clutching the cooler bag to my chest, the only thing I could get out through a throat tight with emotion was, “You did this for me?”

  “Yeahhhh…” She brought both hands to her cheeks, rubbing gently as though she wanted to rub the blush away. “I just remembered what you were saying that night we had drinks, about the things you wanted in a relationship. I thought it’d be something that you’d enjoy, and you being happy makes me happy.”

  I almost melted at her simple, unselfish reason. “You really are the sweetest thing. I’m going to fall in love with you if you’re not careful.”

  Her eyes widened, she blinked a few times as though surprised by what I’d said. “Oh, Jana.” After a long pause she murmured, almost to herself, “Then maybe I should stop being so careful.”

 

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