Girl Love Happens : Season One

by T. B. Markinson

  I stopped at the bathroom door. Gemma had followed the four steps to the sink to blow dry her hair. “Hop in with me.” I yanked her arm.

  “I just got out.” She tried to worm free.

  “I know, but I need you.”

  Gemma furrowed her brows, but her lips curled up at the sides. “I don’t want to be late.”

  “You won’t. Besides, I can’t see my mom without someone washing my backside properly.”

  “Oh really? This seems like a new rule.” She playfully ran a finger down the sheet of house rules taped to the closet door. “It’s not here.”

  I undid the belt of her robe and licked my lips. “It should be. It’s a prudent one, if you ask me. Dirty backsides are a scourge in society.”

  Gemma crossed her arms over her perky breasts.

  I fluttered my eyelashes, knowing she was a complete sucker when I did that. “You know you’ll give in, so stop wasting time.”

  “I’m wasting time?” She rapped her chest with a finger. “You moped in bed while I showered.”

  I waved her off. “Come on. Get wet with me.”

  “I’m only washing your backside. No monkey business. You promise?”

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” I saluted.

  The shower was tiny but spotless. We stepped under the stream of hot water, and within seconds, I was morphing into my normal self. Showers had always been my miracle drug. Gemma lathered my hair for me.

  “That feels good,” I murmured with my eyes shut.

  Her fingertips massaged my scalp, and each probe chipped away at the tension in my body.

  Gem rinsed the shampoo and mixed in a healthy dose of conditioner, leaving it be to do its job.

  Gemma doused the bath sponge with Japanese cherry blossom shower gel and started with my backside, ensuring not to miss a spot. Then she spun me around and delicately sponged my front, including under each breast. Squatting, she cleaned one leg then the other. Before taking care of my pussy, she skimmed her tongue along the lips, landing for a split second on my clit. I stretched both hands out, using the slippery tiled walls to hold myself up.

  The water cascaded down my body onto her wet red locks, plastering several clumps to the side of her face. Gemma gazed up, and I wondered if she was calculating if she could fuck me again and still make it on time for brunch.

  I smiled sadly. “I know. You have to go.”

  Her body slowly snaked up mine, eliciting excitement that would be crushed in a matter of seconds. Gemma ringed an arm around me, whisking me into an I’m so sorry embrace.

  Or so I thought.

  Her kiss suggested she was only beginning. It wasn’t until she shoved me up against the wall that I realized Gemma planned to rock my world. Her knee separated my legs, and her fingers parted my lips.

  Her lips clamped down on mine, while her fingers entered my pussy with force.

  “I thought you didn’t have time.” I closed my eyes and rested my head against the cold, wet tile.

  “I hate that I can’t be there for you today. Maybe this will help you power through.” Gemma made her way down. She didn’t linger on either nipple, but they craved attention. I pinched one between the pads of my thumb and forefinger. Time was short, and I wanted to prove I was a team player.

  Gemma increased the depth and intensity of her hammering, and when her tongue circled my sex, a jolt made the tiny hairs on my body boing. One hand abandoned my nipple and slipped down to hold Gemma’s head in place. I moved the shower nozzle so it wouldn’t rain down into her mouth. I couldn’t have her drown while eating me out.

  “Oh my God!” I said.

  No words came from Gemma, but passion screamed through her actions.

  “Oh, don’t stop!” I fisted her wet hair. “Oh, God, don’t stop.”

  Gemma’s tongue was in sync with my body, and within moments, the pre-orgasm lightshow flickered behind my eyelids. Her fingers expertly dove in and hit the spot that took me from pre-orgasm to full-on coming. Gemma pressed her tongue against my clit, initiating a seismic tremor.

  “Jesus!” I screamed, praying the water drowned out the commotion.

  A powerful aftershock almost as strong as the original quake slammed through me. Gemma kissed me hard on the mouth.

  “I can’t get enough of you.” I nestled my wet cheek against hers.

  Gemma sighed contentedly before withdrawing and swiveling the showerhead to rinse her face in the now lukewarm water. “To be continued.” She winked.

  I nodded, unable to speak or move.

  “Drive safe, okay?” she said.

  I nodded again. Gemma gave me a peck on the cheek and then departed. My body collapsed against the wall. By the time I stepped out of the shower to dry off, the front door quietly shut.

  “I love you, Gemma,” I whispered, hopeful she sensed the words through the brick walls. It was as if I was consumed with the thought that she had to know the intensity of my feelings. Was this a result of my unfulfilling family situation or the relentless need to prove my worth?

  She’d given me more than enough courage to power through the day. How I had ended up with someone like Gemma was a complete mystery, and I had to resist the urge to pinch myself to see if I was dreaming. In my topsy-turvy world, no one else compared to Gem. Of that, I was absolutely sure.

  It took less than ten minutes to get ready, settling on a skort and Gap V-neck shirt. Although, knowing my mom, I should have spent more time fixing my hair, makeup, and selecting an outfit. I feared Mom’s barbed words, but I had promised Glen on the phone last night not to let her needle me today of all days.

  Behave was today’s key word.

  Before heading out, I popped into the cafeteria for a quick bite. I could be, so I’m told, cranky when hungry, and I figured that would wreck my chances of curbing snide comments my mother brought out of me.

  Unfortunately, the Lucky Charms had run out. Was that an omen?

  Shoving the thought out of my head, I settled on Frosted Flakes. At the juice counter, I filled a small glass with OJ.

  “TR!” Jenny hip checked me, splashing some of the orange juice on my hand. “Ooops, sorry.”

  I wiped the back of my hand with a napkin. “You’re chipper.”

  “It’s a beautiful day.”

  “Yeah, that’s it. You’re the type to stop and smell the roses, right?”

  I carried my tray to a table, Jenny in tow.

  Taking a seat across from Jenny, I added, “It has nothing to do with a certain someone?”

  She grinned. “Maybe.” Jenny leaned over the table. “Bernie is amazing.”

  “It’s good to see you happy.”

  “It feels good to be happy.” Jenny shoveled in a scoop of Cheerios, munching loudly.

  “What happened to the world being your oyster? Not settling down?” I teased.

  “Phooey.” She waved a hand, her expression turning serious. She swallowed some water. “You know, back in high school, I never thought I would find someone like Berns. I figured someone like me would always be single.”

  I wondered what she meant but didn’t have the time to skim too deep below the surface. “Is that why you didn’t date much then?”

  “Maybe.” Jenny looked toward the ceiling, her mouth slightly agape, showing her perfectly white teeth. “Actually, yes. Besides, I thought love was for chumps and always ended in heartache.” Her facial expression softened. “You going to your mom’s?”

  I nodded.

  “And your dad?” she asked.

  “Flying.”

  Jenny shook her head. “Dude, I don’t envy you. Or your mom. I’d be crushed if Bernie left me.”

  The sadness mingled with fear in her eyes made me wonder what would happen if she and Bernie split up. “It’s a bit early to be talking about that,” I said over the rim of my glass.

  “You’re right. Besides, why would Berns dump me?” Jenny thumped her chest.

  I had been talking about my folks’ situation, but I didn’t c
orrect her. “Only a fool would.”

  “Like April.” Jenny straightened in her chair. “April fools.” She busted into laughter. “Get it?” she asked when I barely smiled.

  “Yep. You’re a riot, Jen-Meister.”

  “Don’t I know it?”

  Not knowing what to say, I scooped in a large serving of cereal. Jenny’s eyes fell to the table as if troubled. “You okay?” I asked.

  Jenny glanced up, a smile firmly in place. “Yeppers. Just missing Bernie.”

  I laughed. “Geez, you two make me sick.”

  “Don’t be jealous of our love.”

  While her smile lacked confidence, I was fairly certain she was being real. I couldn’t help but think Jenny was on the path for a world of pain. Not even taking in my opinion of Bernie, there was no denying the fact she was two years ahead of us. Unless she went to law school at Hill, Jenny only had one year left with the Amazing Bernie. I repeated the nickname in my mind in a carnival announcer voice.

  I rose from my seat, while downing the rest of my juice. “I’ve got to run. Have fun today.”

  “Hey, we’re thinking of having people over tonight. If you’re back in time, you and Gemma should come over.”

  “At Bernie’s?”

  “Where else?”

  Did Bernie know Jenny was inviting people over? “Yeah, that sounds good. Maybe.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  In the dorm parking lot, I glanced to the sky. Nothing but blue and, according to the weather forecast on the radio, it’d be seventy-five degrees. Hopefully that meant we’d eat outside on the back deck.

  “Tegan!”

  I wheeled about and spied Erik charging for me like a bull running through the streets of Spain. He had a goofy grin on his face, easing up before bowling me over.

  “Hi.” I took a half step back.

  “This place is deserted.” He waved to the nearly abandoned lot. “It’s nice to see a friendly face.”

  “Aren’t you having lunch or dinner with your mom?” I clenched my purse like a shield.

  “What? Oh.” His face clouded over, and he gaped at the foothills. “My mom died when I was five.”

  Open mouth, insert foot, Tegan.

  “I’m so sorry, Erik.” I placed a hand on his arm.

  His face fell, transforming him into a lost little boy, not the cocky six-three frattie who seconds before had exuded happiness.

  “Are you going to your mom’s, then?” He fidgeted with the sleeves of a long sleeve shirt wrapped around his waist.

  “I am.”

  His shoulders drooped. “Okay. Well, it was nice bumping into you.” He put a palm up and started to walk away.

  He wore cargo shorts, and it was the first time I got a good look at his toned calves. I’d never noticed until now how good some men looked in such shorts. Or maybe it was just him.

  “Erik!” I called out.

  He stopped and pivoted, head over his shoulder.

  “Would you like to come with me?” I smiled in encouragement. Maybe bringing Erik home would distract my mother and force her into behaving.

  “Really?” His lips curved upward.

  I waved him back. “Come on, or we’ll be late.”

  A grin spread across his face, lifting his shoulders back to his self-possessed nature. “I get to pick the music!”

  I had to laugh. “No rap. I hate rap.”

  He saluted crisply as if he’d been a marine in a former life.

  “You have that down.”

  “My dad’s a major general in the marines.” His voice lost some of its hilarity.

  No mom and a marine as a father. Poor Erik.

  We climbed into my Honda. Seconds after turning the key in the ignition, Erik fiddled with the radio. He landed on a station playing “Jump” by Kris Kross.

  I quirked an eyebrow. “I thought I said no rap.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Dude, this is hip-hop.” Erik placed a hand on my shoulder. “You’re lucky I’m here to teach you about the important things in life.”

  “Whatever.” I brushed his hand off.

  Before we hit the highway, the catchy beat and chorus won me over. We both sang along, and at one point, I forgot I was driving and stabbed both hands in the air, bouncing up and down in my seat.

  “Hey, lady. Be careful.” Erik laughed as he gripped the steering wheel.

  “Can’t ever hit anything in this state.” I gestured to the open fields.

  “What? There’s an innocent cow right over the ridge.”

  I had to squint to see it.

  “In India, killing a cow is a crime,” he continued.

  “Really?” My eyebrows bunched. “Why?”

  “They’re a sacred animal.” He shrugged. “Baby Got Back” started. “Oooooh… I love this one.” He scooted up in his seat to show me his backside as he wiggled his ass, belting out the lyrics and nearly bonking his head on the dashboard.

  I soon found out he knew the words to the next three songs: “Mr. Wendell,” “Achy Breaky Heart,” and “Rhythm is a Dancer.”

  He leaned back in his seat when “Stay” by Shakespears Sister streamed through the speaker. “How long have you and Gemma been together?”

  My fingers clawed the steering wheel. “A few months now, but you can’t say anything about that today.” My voice came out harsh.

  He put both palms up. “Don’t worry. I know the protocol.”

  “Protocol?” I peeked out of the corner of my eye.

  “My sister is gay. Our dad can never know.” He flipped the lid on and off the ashtray on the console.

  So that was why he didn’t react with revulsion when April outed us in the stairwell.

  “If it doesn’t work out with Gemma, my sister is single.” He socked my shoulder with his fist. “She’s hot.”

  “Erik!” I whacked his thigh. “You can’t say your sister is hot.”

  He laughed. “Why not? All of my buddies have been telling me that since I was twelve. She’s four years older.”

  “If she’s so hot, why is she single?” I tried punching holes in his claim.

  “Not many potential girlfriends like that she’s still in the closet. She lives in New York. It’s so different there and being gay isn’t such a big deal, but I think she’s so terrified of what will happen if Dad finds out. She’s determined to keep it under wraps even when she doesn’t have to. Dad never visits her.”

  I nodded, understanding her fear, but not willing to share this tidbit with Erik, who I hadn’t spent much time with except for casual conversations after class. I steered us to a safer topic instead. “Is that where you’re from? New York?”

  “Nope. We lived with my grandparents in Kansas.”

  Erik fingered the buttons on the radio. After failing to find any decent songs, he lowered the volume.

  “Who was the first person you told? That you’re gay?” he asked, clearly missing my intention not to discuss my comfort level about being gay.

  “Gemma.” I stared at the straight road ahead.

  “I figured. Who else?”

  “No one, really.”

  “Then how did April know?” He wrenched his head to face me.

  “She saw us kissing. That day on Walt’s Hill.”

  “April outed you, then?” His voice was a mix of shock and annoyance. “She talks about you a lot. Like talks about you as if she’s crushing hard.”

  “Great. Just what I need. A psycho bitch with loose lips.”

  “If I were you, I’d stay away. She’s not even that great of a lay.”

  “Erik!” I laughed and swatted his thigh. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “Well, it’s true. She acts like a cat on the prowl, and then in bed… she just doesn’t… nothing happens.” He tossed his hands in the air. “It’s weird considering the act she puts on.”

  “What do you mean nothing happens? You didn’t sleep with her?”

  “No, I have. Many times. But on her end, nothing. No
t even a moan. Or whimper.”

  “She’s never come? Is that what you mean?”

  “Yeah. And I don’t think she’s even gotten close. I even… you know…” He inspected his laced fingers in his lap.

  “You went down on her and still nothing?”

  He shrugged.

  “And you think it’s all her?” I needled. “Maybe you need a lesson or two about female oral sex.”

  “You offering to let me watch you and Gem?” His leer made me squirm.

  “No!”

  “Just kidding. And for the record, I’ve never had a complaint before.” He glared at me defiantly.

  I pondered his words. “No moans. Any sense of a build-up?”

  “A little in the beginning. And then frustration—that’s when she starts yelling.”

  “Yelling what?”

  “Things like not there, here—no harder. Stay focused. You’re losing me. Is that all?”

  I mouthed, “Wow.”

  “It’s the worst, so like I said, stay away. Unless you have the biggest ego in the world—though even then it’d be pushed to the limit. Luckily, I’m able to brush it off.” He grinned ear to ear.

  He was such a dude, only concerned about getting his jollies. Then again, why bring up April’s inability to orgasm? Maybe he was struggling and hoped my being a female would provide the insight he needed. I imagined he couldn’t discuss this with his frat brothers—they’d be cruel with their comments and nicknames like Not Erect Erik.

  “Have you used your fingers while, ya know, going down on her?”

  He rounded his head to gawk at me. “Lesbians don’t have the market on fingering and eating out a chick. Besides, she kinda told me”—he cleared his throat—“Jenny failed as well.”

  “Huh. That’s weird. Men or women can’t get her to come.” Was this sweet justice for such a bitch?

  “Will you continue to see her after finals?” I asked.

  “Not sure.”

  “I can’t believe you!” I slowed down to let a car get in front of me.

  “What?”

  “Why would you continue seeing a woman like April?”