A Wish Upon a Star

by Jeannie Levig

  Leslie didn’t move, didn’t speak. The brown of her eyes had darkened to a smoky shade of black.

  Her stillness prompted Erica to continue. “I remembered how good it felt to be in your arms last weekend, pressing up against you. You wrapped around me in my bed all night.” As she spoke, she relived each sensation, reexperienced every response. The steady pulse of desire that had throbbed between her legs all week—sometimes beneath the surface, but always there—surged to full need. She shifted closer to Leslie, gazing down at her. “I thought of all the times since I’ve met you that I wanted to be close to you, to touch you,” she whispered. She combed Leslie’s hair away from her temple, from her cheek, then leaned down, closer still. “Wanted to do this.” She pressed her lips lightly to Leslie’s.

  Leslie sighed and arched up to meet her.

  They held the kiss, suspended in its softness for one, two, three, maybe four seconds, then Erica began to explore. She ran the tip of her tongue over that plump lower lip she’d noticed that very first day. She moistened the slight opening between it and the upper one. She teased Leslie, and herself, with a quick dart inside, then a gentle nip.

  Leslie moaned softly, opening against Erica’s mouth.

  Erica slipped her tongue inside, covering Leslie’s lips with hers more firmly, coaxing Leslie back in her chair. She wanted to take more, to take it deeper, to take everything from a kiss that could ever be taken. She wanted it to last.

  Leslie’s breath came fast and hot. She took Erica in, met her in a delicious swirl of their tongues. She brought her hands up and framed Erica’s face, holding her in place.

  They kissed long and deep, first Erica exploring Leslie’s mouth, then Leslie claiming Erica’s. Leslie caressed Erica’s cheeks, her neck, her bare shoulders, while Erica drove her fingers into Leslie’s thick, soft hair. The kiss went on and on.

  Finally, Erica broke free. She gasped for air. Her knees trembled, and she had to straighten to keep from sinking to the floor. “Whew,” she said, pulling her hair up off her neck. A deep flush heated her face, throat, and shoulders.

  Leslie stood. In her bare feet, with Erica in heels, they were eye to eye.

  Erica gripped Leslie’s shoulders to steady herself. She opened her mouth to speak, but Leslie silenced her with another searing kiss. She clamped her arms around Leslie’s neck and immediately lost herself again in her hunger. A thought tried to claw its way into her mind—something about stopping—but she drove it away. She clung to Leslie and moaned as Leslie moved from her lips, to her neck, kissing her way down Erica’s chest and into the plunging neckline of her dress.

  She licked between Erica’s breasts, sucked the inner curve of one, then the other.

  Erica groaned as the fabric caressed her already rigid nipples.

  All the while, Leslie stroked the bare flesh of Erica’s back.

  Shivers ran down Erica’s spine, and goose bumps rose on her skin beneath Leslie’s palms, only to be warmed again by Leslie’s heated touch.

  Her mouth again on Erica’s, Leslie backed toward the couch, pulling Erica with her. In a fluid motion, she sank onto the cushion, her head on the armrest. She guided Erica over her, never breaking the kiss. Her hands, still traversing Erica’s back, found their way to the edges of the bodice of Erica’s dress and slipped beneath it. She caressed the sides of Erica’s breasts, slowly, teasingly.

  Erica remained on her hands and knees, aching to feel Leslie’s fingers, her touch, her caress on her nipples. “More,” she murmured impatiently.

  Leslie didn’t hesitate. She cupped Erica’s breasts, palming her nipples, then closed her fingertips around them in a tight squeeze.

  Erica arched and threw her head back. Her cry of pleasure surprised even her. The sensations arrowed straight to her clit, and she ground against Leslie’s thigh.

  Leslie rolled Erica’s nipples, pinched them gently, then began a torturous rhythm that threatened to drive Erica over the edge.

  But Erica wasn’t ready. She wanted more pleasure, wanted it to last. She lifted her hips, relieving the pressure on her clit.

  “You’re so fucking sexy,” Leslie whispered. She stared into Erica’s face, her arousal and need evident in her eyes, in the hoarseness of her voice, in the low groan she’d released with Erica’s movement. With one hand, she reached beneath Erica’s hair and loosened the ties holding up the bodice of the dress. When it fell free, she arched her neck and captured her nipple between her soft lips. She sucked greedily.

  Erica clenched her eyes shut. She was lost. She wanted to stay in that moment, with Leslie beneath her, doing things to her she’d dreamed of but never believed would happen. She wanted more and more and more. And she got it.

  Leslie worked Erica’s nipples, tantalizing, teasing, tormenting them, for a long time. Finally, she clutched the skirt of Erica’s dress with her free hand and dragged it up Erica’s thighs and over her ass. She toyed with the dimple at the base of Erica’s spine, fondled and squeezed her cheeks through the satiny panties, ran a fingertip along the edge where the thigh met the buttock. Then she slipped her fingers under the fabric and into Erica’s hot, drenched folds. She sank deep into the wetness, stroking the length of Erica’s sex, dipping inside her, then retreating.

  Erica groaned, then whimpered, then began to writhe. She pumped her hips.

  Leslie pushed inside her and began a rhythmic thrust.

  When she found Erica’s clit and stroked it simultaneously, Erica lurched and began to shake. She couldn’t hold back a second longer. “I have to come,” she whispered, her entire focus on the exquisite sensations consuming her. It was all too much.

  “Yes,” Leslie murmured, before closing her teeth tenderly on Erica’s nipple.

  Erica cried out as her orgasm ripped through her.

  Leslie didn’t stop. She stroked and sucked and kissed Erica through the very last spasm, until Erica collapsed on top of her, breathless. As she nestled her cheek into the hollow of Leslie’s shoulder, Leslie closed her arms around her and held her in a gentle embrace. They lay in stillness for a long time.

  Gradually, Erica realized how comfortable she felt lying in Leslie’s arms, no self-consciousness about how vulnerable she’d allowed herself to be, no first-time nerves. It felt as though they’d been intimate for years and tonight was merely a typical evening at home. Yeah, right. Her body thrummed. And what about Leslie’s? She shifted to the side and ran her hand over Leslie’s stomach, the softness of the cashmere caressing her palm. “This is a pretty sweater,” she said quietly to break the silence.

  “Thank you,” Leslie said. There was a smile in her voice.

  Erica waited for more. Okay, maybe she did feel a little bit awkward. She lifted her head and kissed Leslie’s neck, then looked up into her face.

  The smile Erica had heard played on Leslie’s lips.

  “Say something,” Erica said.

  Leslie’s expression sobered. Her gaze went hot. “You’re gorgeous when you come. I’d like to see it again. I never want to lose that image.”

  The intensity in Leslie’s voice stole Erica’s breath, but she also blushed. “Are you kidding? With the orgasm I just had?” She ducked to avoid Leslie’s gaze. “Besides, there are more new things I’d like to explore.” She slipped her fingers beneath Leslie’s sweater and traced light circles on her stomach.

  Leslie jerked and tightened her hold. She let out a low groan. “That particular new thing won’t take very long.”

  “Really?” It was Erica’s turn to smile. She slid down Leslie’s body and settled between her legs, her breasts pressed to the crotch of Leslie’s jeans. “Let’s see about that.” She pushed up the sweater to reveal smooth, bare skin, then lay her mouth where her fingers had been.

  Leslie’s muscles tightened. She leaned her head back and stroked Erica’s hair.

  Erica let out a sigh of contentment. She picked up where she’d left off with her fingers and began languid circles with the tip of her tongue. Leslie’s s
kin was hot, dampened by a thin sheen of sweat. She tasted of salt and something mildly sweet, and a faint scent of lavender hugged her skin. She kissed the flat of Leslie’s stomach, remembering the sight of her naked body that night in the pool. Impossibly, her clit stirred again. It was time for Leslie, though, time to give her as much pleasure as she’d given Erica. She pressed her palms to Leslie’s sides, then inched upward.

  Leslie squirmed beneath Erica’s mouth and hands. She cupped the back of Erica’s head and twisted her fingers into her hair. “You’re being mean.”

  Erica smiled against Leslie’s skin. “You won’t feel that way when we’re finished,” she whispered. “I promise.”

  Leslie’s throaty chuckle turned to a moan when Erica reached her breasts and massaged them through her bra. She thrust her hips when Erica grazed her engorged, stiff nipples.

  Erica looked up Leslie’s body. She wanted to see her face, watch her reactions. She rose to her knees and stretched over Leslie. She pushed the sweater farther up, eliciting Leslie’s help to shed it completely. When Leslie curled forward and pulled it over her head, Erica captured one hard nipple in her mouth through the thin bra cup, and gently tweaked the other between her fingertips.

  Leslie jolted upright and sucked in a breath, then dropped back onto the couch. She gripped Erica’s head and held her mouth firmly to her.

  Erica settled her hips into the cradle of Leslie’s open thighs and feasted on Leslie’s breasts.

  Leslie moaned and writhed, pushing her mound against Erica’s.

  Erica pushed back, giving her plenty of purchase. She felt a little like she was back in high school, rolling around on a couch, still fully clothed and Leslie in only jeans and a bra. They were adults. They could undress. They could even move to Leslie’s room and be in a bed. Nah. Who needs a bed? And the clothes…Erica could fix that. She flicked the front clasp of Leslie’s bra and shoved the cups aside. Her lips found flesh, and she groaned with pleasure.

  Leslie’s breathing was ragged, her legs clenching and unclenching around Erica. “Erica. Erica.” Her voice was a raspy whisper.

  Erica continued her worship of Leslie’s breasts—those perfect handfuls she’d wanted to touch and taste since day one—but she knew Leslie needed to come soon. And she wanted to make her come. She wanted to know, as Leslie now knew about her, what she looked and felt like in that pure, unguarded moment. Finally, she relinquished the nipple in her mouth, hoping there would be another time for more, and made the return trek down Leslie’s body. She worked the button at Leslie’s waistband.

  “Oooooh, yes.” The words came as a plea.

  Their urgency amped up Erica’s arousal, and she quickened her pace. In seconds, she had Leslie’s jeans in a heap on the floor and was once again between her legs, breathing in her musky scent. She brushed her lips over the patch of soft curls at the apex of Leslie’s thighs, then kissed her outer lips.

  Leslie let out a loud groan and spread her legs wider. Her need was palpable, her desperation flagrant.

  Erica couldn’t hold out another second. She plunged her tongue into Leslie’s soaked sex, licking the length and savoring the taste. She closed her lips around her clit and sucked it gently, while sliding a finger inside her.

  Leslie bucked and grasped Erica’s head. She held it tightly but allowed Erica to set the pace.

  Erica didn’t make her wait much longer. She quickly found the exact spots and techniques that drew the deepest responses. She flicked her tongue back and forth across the very tip of Leslie’s clit, while she thrust two fingers rhythmically inside her.

  Leslie’s legs trembled. Her body shook. Her muscles clamped hard around Erica’s hand, and she pumped her hips, giving Erica everything she had.

  Erica rode out the orgasm, easing off a little at a time as Leslie came down. She nuzzled Leslie’s center with her lips, until she felt Leslie’s hands stroking her hair.

  “Oh, my God,” Leslie said, still catching her breath. “Oh, my God.”

  Erica smiled. “Still think I’m mean?”

  Leslie moaned softly. “Oh, my God, no.”

  Erica moved up beside her and snuggled against her. “Good, because that might mean you wouldn’t want to do it again.”

  Leslie wrapped her arms around her and pulled her in closer. “Not a chance of that. I was having a hard enough time keeping my hands to myself when I didn’t know what this would be like. Now that I know…Oh. My. God.”

  Erica let her fingers play over Leslie’s skin as she wondered. They were both talking like they could be together like this again, but would they be? It was less than five minutes since they’d finished enjoying each other, and already her turmoil and concern from earlier was trying to crowd back in. She didn’t want to deal with all those conflicting thoughts and emotions, all those worries and fears. She simply wanted to lie here, cuddled with this woman who’d shown up out of nowhere and made such a difference in her life, who made her laugh and took care of things when Erica needed help—and now, who’d given her the most bone-melting sex she’d ever had.

  “You don’t have to go right away, do you?” Leslie sounded uncertain.

  Erica was curious. She rose onto her elbow and considered her. “Do you want me to stay a while?”

  “I do,” Leslie said simply. She touched the lines at the corner of Erica’s eye, then ever so gently, traced a path to the sensitive spot just below her earlobe.

  Erica shivered but smiled. “I suppose one of the good things about having sex with my next-door neighbor is that my walk of shame is short.”

  Leslie grinned. “And you have a secret passage through the backyards.”

  Erica laughed, but something stirred deep inside her—a reluctance to talk about what had just happened. What was there to say? She’d tried and tried to figure out what she felt for Leslie, what the right thing would be to do, what their relationship should or shouldn’t be. She could feel the question hovering above them. What does this mean? Why did sex always have to mean something? She merely wanted to lie here, feel Leslie close, touch her freely, and not think.

  Leslie ran her hand down Erica’s back. “I need to ask you something,” she said softly.

  Erica squeezed her eyes shut. Here it comes. “Okay,” she said with resignation.

  “This is twice now you’ve seen me naked, and I’ve only seen you once—and that was when you were sick and crumpled on your bathtub floor. You owe me big time.” A hint of humor tinged Leslie’s voice, but underlying it was the lust Erica had heard earlier. “What do you say we go upstairs, and you pay up.”

  Relief washed through Erica, followed closely by renewed need for more of Leslie. She’d be safe from her thoughts a while longer. “I’d be happy to.” Erica leaned down and kissed Leslie fully. “I always pay my debts.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Leslie heard her back door open, then close. She looked across the bar from the kitchen sink just in time to see Siena run through the family room and into the living room. “Hey there,” she called. “How about a good morning.”

  “Good morning,” Siena yelled over her shoulder. She’d taken to making sure she rubbed Hotei’s belly every time she came into Leslie’s house in hopes that it would make Tim Davis’s family move to another city like her friend Kiley had. She’d spent a few star wishes on the subject as well. She returned in seconds and threw herself onto the blue couch. “I want to make cookies.”

  Gus jumped up beside her, shook himself, then flopped down.

  Leslie smiled at the picture. The two had literally become inseparable, unless Erica or Leslie were in some kind of distress. Then Siena had to share. Leslie wondered how she’d ever gotten by without either of them. “Did you already ask your mom and she said no?”

  Siena frowned. “Yes. She has to grade papers.”

  Leslie had texted Erica when she finished her meditation and yoga, their established signal that it was all clear for Siena to come over if she wanted. They’d conversed some during
the week, and Leslie knew Erica had given her classes midterms. She might appreciate Siena being occupied so she could work uninterrupted. “Let me check with her and see if she minds you doing it over here with me.”

  Things had been a little weird between them since the previous weekend. Erica’s unexpected visit and everything they’d done during those few hours had been mind-blowing. Leslie couldn’t have come up with a more perfect fantasy than the reality they’d shared. She’d thought Erica would be passionate in bed from her emotional responses to other things at times—but damn!

  When they’d gotten upstairs, Leslie had no sooner caught her breath from their first round before Erica had given her a striptease—emphasis on tease—then had her flat on her back for three more shattering orgasms. Finally, Leslie had to beg for mercy. In concession, Erica had stretched out in Leslie’s bed—a sight Leslie knew she could easily get used to—and requested her own repayment. Her exact words: “It seems you owe me now.” Everything between them felt so new. The good night kiss they’d shared later on Leslie’s deck seemed like the perfect ending to a perfect beginning.

  Something wasn’t quite right, though. Throughout the week, they’d seen each other. They’d interacted. They’d gotten along fine. They’d even exchanged a few smoldering looks, and Leslie had needed to make herself come a few nights in order to get to sleep. It wasn’t difficult with Erica’s energy, her scent, and all the memories still in Leslie’s bed. Somehow, though, it seemed they’d lost something between them. Shouldn’t they have gained something from a shared experience like that?

  They weren’t talking about it, which was odd. They’d been able to talk about their pasts, their heartbreaks, their attractions to one another. They’d even been able to work out Erica’s anger at Leslie for hurting Siena and Leslie’s remorse over it. But now, when they should be even closer, they weren’t talking about anything of importance. Why not? Finally, this morning, Leslie had figured out what was wrong, at least on her part. It’d hit her from Erica’s return text message.