“Seems like it’ll be hard to strip while sitting down.” She fondled my ass.
I leaned into her chest. “This has been such a strange day.”
“It really has. What can I do to make you feel better?”
“A cup of tea would be nice.”
She beamed. “Of course.” Gemma summoned me to stand.
I kicked off my sneakers and climbed under my bed covers. I loved that Gemma didn’t mind my drastic mood change one bit. If I was in her shoes, I may have been slightly perturbed by the sudden switch from raging hormones to making tea, but Gem was like no other person I’d ever met. She really cared about me.
“Gemma?”
“Yeah?” She had her back to me.
“I really do love you.”
She swiveled her head and studied me over her shoulder. “I know.”
This made me laugh. “I love that about you.”
Gemma added honey and then handed over a mug. “What?”
“Your quiet confidence.”
“Only you see it fully.”
“That’s why I love it.” I sipped the chamomile tea. “You’re turning me into a tea fiend.”
Her brow crinkled. “I’m not sure the words tea and fiend go hand in hand.”
“Only you would say such a thing. But shit, this stuff is like crack. Before I met you, I could count on one hand how many cups of tea I’d ever had.”
Gemma clutched a mug with both hands and held it under her chin, savoring the sweet steam. “What do you think today was about?”
“I’ve been wracking my brain, trying to figure it out. My mom is an oddball, but to show up unannounced insisting we celebrate Mother’s Day a week early is more than strange. It’s like she needed confirmation of some type. That we’re still a family or I’m still her daughter.”
The phone rang.
“Don’t answer that!” I said, a peculiar sense of dread settling in the pit of my stomach.
Gemma shrugged. She wasn’t a phone person and her parents usually called every Monday night. “More than likely it’s Jenny,” she said.
The phone continued to trill. On the seventh ring the answering machine clicked on. It was then I realized the blinking light indicating we had messages.
The message Gemma and I had crafted our first day blared. I narrated the majority of it, but Gem had surprised me when she piped in to say her own name. Now, her sweet voice sounded so young, and it was hard to imagine that happened nine months ago. She’d transformed from the quiet small-town girl into a confident woman—the woman I loved.
Last August seemed so long ago, but in the grand scheme of things, it was a drop in the bucket. But my first year of college had changed me more than my previous eighteen years.
Months ago, I didn’t know love like this existed. I thought couples mostly existed out of the fear of being alone. That was why I’d dated Josh. Everyone else had a relationship or wanted one, so I kept him around.
As I sipped Gemma’s tea, I understood the depth of love. The desire to be near the person. Did my parents experience this type of love? My father was hardly home, and Mom kept herself insanely busy. Was my absence from home triggering the crazy in my mother? Or was something else happening?
The machine beeped, but the caller didn’t leave a message.
One minute later, the phone rang again.
Gemma raised a worried brow over her mug. “I think we should answer.”
She didn’t move a muscle until I gave a quick nod. The dread intensified.
“Hello?” Gemma’s voice was friendly, but strong as if expecting terrible news. “Just a second.” She covered the phone with a palm and whispered it was Glen.
My brother never called me at school, and I hadn’t spoken to him since last summer. We wrote letters once in a blue moon, but calling long distance was way too expensive for our budgets.
I motioned for the receiver. “Hi, Glen.”
“Tegan. Have you heard from Mom?” The fact that he didn’t start with typical phone pleasantries made my stomach somersault.
“Yeah, today. What’s up?”
“Are you sitting down?”
I looked to make sure, even though I’d been propped up in bed for some time. “Yes, why?”
“How did Mom sound when you spoke?” he fished.
“We went to lunch together. She was… well, like Mom.”
Glen was silent. I was the impulsive one; Glen the thinker.
“Glen! What’s going on?” I twirled the phone cord around a finger.
“Dad’s worried. She left the house on Friday and hasn’t been home.”
“Friday? And you’re just calling me now?”
“He didn’t call me until this morning.”
“Why didn’t he call me?” And then I remembered I’d been out most of the afternoon. The messages on the machine were probably from him.
“He’s been trying.” My usually aloof brother sounded exasperated.
“Okay, what’s got your panties in a bunch?” I tried to sound lighthearted, but it was difficult with the lump the size of a plum in my throat.
“Dad told Mom he wants a divorce,” he said with forced calm.
“W-what?” I stuttered. “That’s why she showed up here insisting it was Mother’s Day.” I rolled my eyes. Mom would never declare she needed help—she’d find a way to seek it without verbalizing it.
Gemma sat down, concern etched into her ashen face.
“Mother’s Day? Isn’t that next month?” Glen asked.
“It’s a week from tomorrow. You better put a card in the mail.” I gasped for breath. “Why did Daddy ask for a divorce?” I tried to keep my voice even, but I was freaking out inside.
Glen remained quiet for a bit and then sighed. “Dad was pretty tight-lipped about that part. He said it was for the best.”
“I know she’s difficult… but divorce?”
“Hey, it’s the nineties. We’re lucky they didn’t divorce when we were kids. We never had to shuffle back and forth between houses.” My older brother was doing his best to put a positive spin on things for my sake. Maybe for his own as well. “Did Mom say where she was going when she left?” Panic underlined his words.
“You don’t think—?” I gripped Gem’s hand, trying to comprehend how my usually frigid mother would fall to pieces.
“Of course not! Reel in the crazy, Tegan. Dad—we—just want to make sure she’s okay.” His tone was firm.
I eyed the ceiling. “You know, after she dropped us off, she drove toward the center of town. Maybe she went to a hotel.”
“Us?” He sounded curious.
“My roommate joined us.”
“Oh.” He seemed disappointed it wasn’t a boy. Little did he know.
“I can go to the hotels. See if she’s staying in one.”
“Would you?” His forced calm returned. “I’ll call Dad. Call him as soon as you know anything.” Glen hung up.
By the time I’d filled Gemma in, the phone rang again.
“Hi, ladybug,” Dad said.
“Hi, Daddy.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Glen said you had lunch with Mom today.”
I filled him in on the details.
He sighed. “Promise me if you find her, you’ll call right away. It’s probably best if you don’t approach her, though. She’s angry with me, and I don’t want her taking it out on you. Just look for her car in the parking lot.”
The shit must have really hit the fan when he asked for a divorce.
“O-kay,” I stammered.
“I’m sorry to put you and Glen in the middle.” His voice was more than exhausted.
“It’s okay,” I said without thinking. It wouldn’t be okay for my father. He’d always gone above and beyond to keep their marital issues private. Whenever Mom tried to drag one of us into things, he put the kibosh on it.
We said our goodbyes, and I braced myself for operation “Find Mom.”
“You want m
e to go with you?” Gemma stood, not waiting for an answer.
I didn’t move.
Gemma squatted and cradled my hand. “You can stay here. I’ll look for her. I know her car—what do you call it, The Jelly Bean?”
My gaze ping-ponged around the room. Gemma’s collected voice sounded like it came from a different planet. One where everything made sense, and at the moment nothing in my life made much sense.
“They’re getting divorced.” I remembered the hell my best friend in elementary school went through when her parents divorced. The custody battle. Traveling back and forth on weekends and holidays. Surely it wouldn’t be as bad as that now that Glen and I were adults.
“I know, sweetheart.” She patted my thigh. “If you want to stay here, Jenny and I can search for your mom.”
I shook my head. “No, I think I should go.”
“Alone?”
“God, no. Come on. Let’s go find her.”
Captives of Love
Chapter Sixteen
Mother’s Day arrived. The real one. I hadn’t seen Mom since learning of the impending divorce. However, we had made arrangements for the celebration on the phone a few days ago. Neither of us mentioned that we’d already celebrated a pseudo holiday, and we didn’t broach the D subject. I wasn’t even sure Mom was aware I knew, although she slyly inserted that Daddy wouldn’t be around much. That was how she’d put it. Maybe that was her code for “Your father and I are getting divorced.”
When Gemma and I had discovered her car at the Best Western near the university, I called Dad as instructed. He must have convinced her to come home, because when I called for our typical Wednesday night chat, she answered on the second ring, per usual.
“You ready for Mother’s Day part two?” Gemma snuggled against my naked chest.
“Honestly?” I wrapped her up in my arms, nearly smothering her with my tits.
“Yeah,” she mumbled happily.
“I’m dreading it. I wish you could go with me. Provide a protective layer.”
She sighed and readjusted her head on my chest to peer into my eyes. “I wish I could.”
Gem’s parents and baby sister were arriving in a few hours. I’d yet to meet her sister.
“I’ll be there in spirit.” With her finger, she drew a heart on my chest.
“I know. And I’m sorry I won’t be able to meet your baby sis, Bridget.”
“Next time. She wants to meet you.”
“Does she know about us?” I made sure my voice didn’t betray any sense of panic.
“Nope. Just that we’re buddies. Not sure my parents mentioned anything to her, and I know I haven’t. She’s only thirteen.”
“Ah, too young to corrupt.” I kissed the top of her forehead.
“Way too young.”
“What age is appropriate to blab you’re gay?”
Gem buttressed her chin on a bent elbow. “Good question. I think someone your age.”
I twisted my hip bone into her stomach. “Are you implying I’m old?”
“Nope. But I have no issues corrupting you.” Gemma manipulated a nipple with her tongue.
“In that case, corrupt away.”
“Not sure I like that phrasing. Like I changed you.” She snaked a hand down my side and back up again, setting all my nerve endings ablaze. I couldn’t remember the last time we had slept in pajamas. Nakedness helped with our ritualistic early morning romps. Who in the fuck needed an alarm clock to get going in the morning when sharing a bed with a hot redhead? It was barely after seven in the morning, and both of us were wide-awake, raring to go.
“You want to quibble, right now, about my phrasing?” I pushed my head into the feather pillow.
“What thoughts should I focus on?” She sucked my furrowed nipple into her mouth, hardening it.
“Nothing. No bad thoughts should be coursing through your brain with my nipple in your mouth.” My breath hitched.
“Duly noted. Do impure thoughts count as bad thoughts?” She peppered the base of my throat with soft kisses.
“What do you think?” An electric current zinged throughout my body.
“You’re the one making up the rules.” She nipped my earlobe.
I brought her lips to mine. “Enough chitchat. Get to work,” I added playfully, waggling my eyebrows.
Gemma kissed me.
My hands roamed down her spine, landing on her ass. I cupped both cheeks with my palms, yanking her into my love zone.
Gem emitted a hungry groan.
I responded by pulling her even closer as if trying to merge both our pussies permanently. Her wetness slickened my thigh, forcing a primal reaction to spur our grinding pace all the while deepening our kiss.
“Sometimes it almost hurts to crave you this much. Like I’m going to die without your touch,” I said.
Gemma’s upper body hovered over mine. “I know what you mean. I can’t imagine spending one night away from you.” She continued to stroke her clit against mine. “I’m not looking forward to spending two weeks apart after finals.”
“Let’s make love like it’s our last time.” The words burbled out before I had time to contemplate the meaning.
She smiled wanly, in tune with the inner panic roiling through my mind. “It won’t be, but I like the idea.” Gemma recaptured my mouth, and I melted into the kiss and moment. Somehow, Gem’s efforts made it feel like our first kiss all over again, recapturing my heart and soul.
She intensified her efforts with more aggression than normal, as if staking her claim forever. Her teeth sank into my bottom lip, tugging slightly. The sensation reverberated throughout my body.
“I love how you make me feel,” I panted.
Gem repositioned, straddling my midsection, her ginger hairs tickling my stomach. Her emerald eyes feasted on my nakedness, devouring every inch. It was as if I could see the thoughts flashing through that wonderful brain of hers. The intensity in her face may have scared others, but I loved it when Gemma dominated me with her desire. Claimed my body for her pleasure. Giving her pleasure doubled mine. From the ardor in her eyes, I had a feeling this time I’d triple it.
Slowly, Gemma’s mouth inched lower and concentrated on the area below my belly button and above my pubic hair, leaving a wet zigzagging trail on my skin. Her tongue didn’t have a set pattern, but no matter. It wasn’t the method that was driving me mad with yearning. It was the gorgeous woman asserting her right on my body.
My woman.
I loved the sound of that, even if only said in my head.
I reached for her head, curling my fingers into her red hair. “Oh, Gem,” I moaned.
She continued kissing and licking as she made her way to my pussy. My nerve endings weren’t on fire. They were beyond bursting. Her teeth grazed my pubic hair, and my legs instantly widened further in preparation. Without speaking, we both moved up on the bed so Gemma would have the room she needed to fuck me. We’d done this dance many times over the past few months, and it never seemed rehearsed. Always fresh. New. Exciting.
“I love eating your pussy.” She pushed her face into the wetness as if showering in my love.
Each word caused my sex to beat as if making music only for Gemma’s ears.
The burgeoning longing down below surged with each lick. She knew I wanted her mouth on me. Her tongue to part my lips, dip inside, and then focus on my clit. Gemma inclined her head down again, her tongue poking out, and then she stopped, a whisker separating us.
“How long can you wait?” she asked.
I shuddered and pleaded with my eyes.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”
I smiled. “You love to torture me.”
She nuzzled her nose into my sex, inhaling deeply, and then withdrew. “It does something to me. Knowing how much you want me. I can smell your desire.” She laid her ear on my pussy. “Can hear the throbbing.” A finger strolled over my inner thigh. “See the gooseflesh.”
I chomped down on my lo
wer lip. “You’re killing me, Gemma. Killing me.”
“I know, sweetheart. I know.” She poked my hipbone with a finger. “And I love it.”
“I love you. You have no idea how much.”
“Not sure about that. Remember, your eyes speak directly to my heart.”
“And my pussy?”
“Ah, your pussy. Holds me captive.” Her head lowered and once again she paused briefly a hairsbreadth from bliss. “If only we had all day, I’d stay here for another hour under your control.”
I guided her head to where I wanted her, and without a complaint, Gemma’s tongue set to work.
Afterward, Gemma hopped in the shower. She was meeting her parents for brunch in a little over an hour. Her family was registered at the Best Western, where my mom had stayed for two days before returning after my father vacated the house.
While Gemma prepared for her day, I hid under the bed covers in hopes of skipping Mother’s Day. Not an option, but it was a comforting thought, however fleeting. The plan was to drive to my folks’—or rather mom’s house since Dad informed me he’d moved out—and have a late lunch with my mother before making the drive back. I had a final Monday afternoon, luckily, or I would have been guilted into staying the night. The mere idea made me convulse.
Dad was flying today, and he’d confided to Glen, who then told me that he made arrangements to stay with a friend when grounded, giving Mom her space while they worked out their next step. Glen was convinced divorce was inevitable. I think Dad was as well. The only one in denial was Mom, but that was typical. I had a feeling she secretly hoped they could remain married but stay far apart from each other. It wasn’t that she still wanted to be with him. I was pretty sure she wouldn’t want to be slapped with the divorcee label. That equated to failure, and she hated failing. Labels suited the black and white thinkers of the world.
“You better get in the shower.” Gemma towel dried her hair at the foot of the bed.
I hefted the comforter off and gathered my shower kit from the closet floor. “I’m soooo not looking forward to today.”
Gemma stepped aside, wisely not saying a word. I’d been whining since she mentioned it was time for us to get out of bed to prepare for the day. I wasn’t proud of the fact, and even though it wasn’t fair to Gem, I wasn’t able to curb my childishness.
Girl Love Happens : Season One Page 24
