I did that. The thought sent a rush of wetness flooding between her own legs.
Experimentation was the key, she supposed, so Anna slid her fingers back and forth, avoiding Ollie’s clit as much as she could. She feels familiar, yet different. Will she like what I like? She pressed her fingertips just to Ollie’s entrance, the flesh there swollen and soft, and slipped inside a little. Ollie’s breathing stuttered. She slid further inside and curled her fingers, watching as Ollie stretched back, her wrist over her forehead.
They kissed again, and Anna thrust gently inside her, in and out, a slow rhythm, until Ollie was thrusting with her, her breathing ragged.
Anna wanted to ask her how she was doing but wasn’t sure what phrase to use. Ollie must have noticed the insecure look in her eyes, because she reached down to lay her hand over Anna’s. She grasped her wrist gently and pulled, so she withdrew and moved her upwards and forward so her fingertips rested on Ollie’s clit.
Anna waited until Ollie’s hand was back above her head before she started to circle, a jolt of warmth flicking through her whole body as Ollie groaned low in her throat.
Their gazes locked and Anna felt something connect between them. She started to circle faster, feeling Ollie’s entire sex, how distended it was. I’ve never felt anything so sexy in my whole life. The little stifled moans Ollie made caused her own sex to ache.
Ollie’s hips began to move, to thrust against her hand under the blanket. She could smell the evidence of Ollie’s arousal, too, a sweet scent mingled with sweat and lavender.
Anna sped up again and increased the pressure, figuring that, at least, was universal, that everyone, surely, wanted more and more the closer they got. She studied Ollie’s face, the darkness of her eyes, and the furrow in her brow. She’s going to come. I can’t believe I’m going to make her come. “Please don’t hold back,” she said.
Ollie simply moaned in response, the lines in her face deepening, her lips parting, the breath rushing from them as her whole body tensed.
“Oh God,” the words jumped out of her. She’s so beautiful.
A flushed Ollie thrust her hips in a slow rhythm, her ribs expanding over and over as she panted.
It occurred to Anna to change her plan: she stopped circling and simply began rubbing back and forth over Ollie’s swollen, wet centre. It turned to be absolutely the right thing to do, because suddenly Ollie was gripping Anna tightly and arching her back, her body tensing more and more until she squeezed her eyes shut and Anna could feel the waves of it through her sex—the twitching, the spasms of impending release. Ollie shuddered hard, her hair wild on the cushions.
Then she was pulling Anna’s hand away from touching her any further, her moans filling the room as her whole body vibrated with her orgasm.
Anna gazed down at her, tears in her eyes, watching as Ollie rocked and twitched, the waves slowly subsiding. When Ollie could eventually open her eyes again, her pupils were huge; her hips were still jolting with tiny aftershocks.
“Oh Anna.” Ollie reached to gather her up in her arms and settled Anna’s head against her shoulder.
“I’m so very sorry. I’m not usually one to blubber.” Anna wiped at her eyes with her dry hand. “You just looked so beautiful.” She didn’t cry, she simply screwed her eyes shut tight and held on to Ollie for a while.
I don’t know what has come over me, how embarrassing. As the tension from her own body fell away and Ollie let her go, she rested her head in her hand and looked down at Ollie, who had beads of perspiration between her breasts and in her hairline.
Still in that languid, post-orgasmic state, Ollie looked away for a moment, but Anna could see how red her cheeks were. She leant in to kiss Ollie, who rolled over onto her side at the touch of Anna’s lips to her cheek. She wrapped an arm around Anna’s waist.
“It’s me that should be crying, surely?” Her eyelashes tickled Anna’s shoulder as they fluttered closed.
“I’m barely crying, really.” Anna stroked Ollie’s face.
“That was amazing,” Ollie whispered, then drew back to press a kiss to Anna’s lips. “You’re amazing.” She kissed her again.
They kissed a little longer, and the ache between Anna’s legs throbbed. She pressed against Ollie, rolled her hips, and clutched her fingertips against Ollie’s shoulder blades. She whimpered and felt Ollie’s hand sliding downwards.
When Ollie’s fingers touched her, Anna’s entire body jolted. Ollie pulled at Anna’s knee, allowed her to bend it to rest against Ollie’s hip, then pulled back to look into her eyes. Anna’s breathing was laboured.
God, I want her to touch me. She shivered, her gaze shifting away.
Ollie cupped her cheek. “What is it, love?”
Anna swallowed, Ollie’s fingers stationary against her sex, barely touching her. “I’m fine.”
“No.” Ollie removed her hand and Anna nearly cried. “Come on.”
Anna looked away.
“You can talk to me about anything.”
“I…” Anna swallowed thickly again, her hands up in Ollie’s hair, teasing the blond curls between her fingers. “I just…I’m worried I’ll…come right away and…and that would be a shame.”
“It’s all right,” Ollie said, her thumb brushing Anna’s cheekbone. “I don’t mind at all.”
“You’ve just got me so…turned on.” Anna said the last two words with a grimace. She’d never been the type of person to say things like that. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
“All I want is to make you feel good.”
Anna let out a breath, and Ollie smiled at her.
“And if that takes one hour, or one whole minute, I don’t care, so long as you enjoy yourself.”
They stared at one another for a moment, and then Anna gave a swift nod. Ollie’s smile widened.
“All right, then.” Ollie leant forward to kiss Anna.
A whimper sprang forth from Anna’s lips. God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on. Ollie just kissed her for a while, her hand on her cheek, the other on her waist. The hand on her waist moved away, and Ollie’s fingertips ever so gently nestled between her legs. Anna tried to relax into her touch, but then she broke the kiss. She wanted to see Ollie’s face.
When Ollie’s fingers found Anna’s wetness, a small narrowing of her eyes displayed her surprise. She gave Anna a gentle smile and kissed her forehead. Her fingers started to brush Anna’s clit, which brought forth a grateful moan. Anna canted her hips forward and rolled them back. They found a rhythm together, and Anna was shaking within minutes, so Ollie slowed down a little, caressed her cheek, and kissed her hair.
“It’s all right,” Ollie told her. “If you want it, you should go get it.”
Anna gazed into Ollie’s eyes, pushed the crocheted blanket away from her damp skin so it pooled around her hips, and gripped Ollie’s shoulders. Her nails dug into the skin at Ollie’s neck, and she pushed and pushed and groaned with each thrust of her hips. It was too much, the pleasure, what Ollie was doing to her, touching her so perfectly, and her eyes fell closed.
“Ollie, Ollie,” she breathed. “Ollie.” Anna’s voice became more determined. The name was a mantra, a pledge sworn over and over until suddenly her entire body went still, tense beyond belief on the cusp of maddening pleasure…
Oh God.
It lasted awhile, the orgasm a sea of brilliance washing over her entire body. Once the feeling receded, Anna opened her eyes, her skin prickling where the perspiration was evaporating.
I feel a mess.
She was still twitching, her insides clenching and releasing with aftershocks. Her pulse and breath sounded loud in her ears. The heat from the log burner was thankfully waning, the wood finally glowing simply as embers. She pushed the blanket from her entire body and just breathed, her eyes half-closed, but her gaze locked with Ollie’s.
/> Ollie was positively beaming, her hand still between Anna’s legs, like she didn’t want to leave. She flexed her fingers after a while, once Anna’s breathing had slowed, and at Anna’s breathy giggle she withdrew them.
“Amazing,” Ollie whispered, pressing her lips to Anna’s forehead.
Anna smiled, squeezed Ollie around the shoulders, then stretched her leg back out and rolled her eyes at the crack of her knee, then her hip. She shifted onto her back, stretched everything out, and snorted at the continued pops of all her joints. I’m too old to be having sex on the floor, however many cushions we’re lying on. She snuggled up beside Ollie, who pressed her lips to Anna’s cheek. Anna leant into the kiss and pulled Ollie’s arm around her.
“I’m aware we’ll be moving to a more comfortable location in due course.” Anna’s voice cracked, and she cleared her throat. “But, just for the moment, we’ll have to remain here on your living room floor.”
“Roger that,” Ollie said against her neck.
Anna giggled again. “I don’t think I can move my legs, let alone walk anywhere,” she hissed.
Ollie squeezed her around her hip. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.”
“Oh, I did.” She squeezed her back on the arm with tired fingers. “I really did.” A lump bubbled up in her throat as the wash of emotion swept over her. She stared at Ollie.
“What?” Ollie asked.
Anna continued unabashed. “I love you,” she said quietly.
“Oh.” Ollie blinked and touched Anna’s cheek with the back of her knuckles, then gazed at her for a moment. “I love you too, comrade.”
Anna’s face broke into a smile so wide, she could feel it. In fact, her face hurt. Ollie snuggled into her neck and laughed, and soon the two of them were laughing into the quiet of the living room, prone on the floor, damp and naked, lying amongst crocheted blankets and cushions, candlelight flickering all around them.
Chapter 13
A Different Kind of Silence
Ice clinked in the glasses Kieran carried through as Helen followed him with a plate of cupcakes.
Anna sat back in her plastic chair, the sun wonderfully warm against her cheeks. “Thank you, team.”
Kieran handed Bethany and Timothy their drinks and sat in his own chair. The feet of the chair sunk a little into the damp earth, but Anna chose not to say anything. Maybe it was too early in the year to sit outside, but the sun was bright, and no one seemed to be complaining.
“It’s s-so lovely you’re here,” Ollie said to her children, her fingers firmly scissored between Anna’s. Her eyes were soft, and her skin was bright in the sun.
She’s so beautiful, even when she’s nervous.
When Anna thought about it, it was amazing that both Kieran and Helen were here, visiting the both of them for a springtime drink in her garden. They had come such a long way, especially Helen, the more reserved of the two. But she seemed to understand Timothy more than the flippant Kieran did, and for that alone, Anna would have liked her, despite Helen’s hostility at the beginning. Helen was quietly spoken and frank, and Anna could appreciate that. And Timothy seemed to like her, which was always a good sign.
Kieran, nice-looking and kind to Ollie, had been easier to like from the beginning. And Bethany seemed to agree, Anna thought with bemusement.
“Happy Easter,” Bethany said loudly, holding up her glass, which contained some kind of fruit cocktail Kieran had assured her she’d love.
Anna raised an eyebrow. Bethany was quite giggly around the new young man in their lives, but Anna was determined to keep them separate, at least until they’d known one another longer than two weeks. Five years was a bit too much of an age difference for her liking. He’s got a beard, for goodness sakes.
They all cheered, clinking glasses with those people they could reach. Bethany hummed with approval as she sipped her cocktail and gave Kieran a pleased look. Anna rolled her eyes.
Feeling Ollie squeeze her fingers, Anna reached out with a lifted finger from her glass to push that shaggy fringe away from Ollie’s eyes. She still needs a bloody haircut.
Ollie just smiled more, her eyes crinkling.
“Did you tell Dad yet?” Helen’s voice was slow and monotone and her gaze flickered between them both.
Lines appeared between Ollie’s eyebrows. “Of course I told him.”
Helen just stared at her.
After throwing Anna a “help me” kind of look, Ollie looked back at her daughter. “I think it’s been long enough that we’re allowed to be with other people now.”
“Did you meet his new girlfriend?” Kieran asked, before biting into a cupcake. He didn’t seem at all bothered about whether his mother and father communicated about their love lives.
Helen kicked him, not very subtly, and he nearly choked, the cupcake wrapper over his mouth.
“I did.” Ollie turned to Anna, who nodded. “We both did.”
“She’s not as pretty as you,” Helen said, her arms folding.
Anna tried not to smile too much. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” She smiled at Ollie. “I thought the same thing.”
“Biased,” Bethany mumbled into her drink, but her eyes shone with humour over the rim.
“I think everybody should date people at least as attractive as themselves,” Timothy said, his hands clasped around his glass. His expression was very serious and thoughtful.
Bethany laughed, but she nodded, quite used to her brother’s strange way of expressing an opinion.
Helen’s eyes were a little round, but Kieran turned and smiled at Timothy.
“I think you’re right, Timmo,” he said.
Timothy frowned. Kieran looked like he’d been kicked again.
“Sorry,” he said eventually.
“My name is Timothy. It’s on my birth certificate.” Timothy’s face became bright, as though he was explaining a very simple maths problem to a very slow child. “I like to be called Timothy.”
“It’s not like he hasn’t told you that before,” Bethany said, rolling her eyes.
So we don’t like him enough not to stand up for our brother.
“I don’t mind repeating myself,” Timothy said.
“Mum’s name isn’t the same as on her birth certificate,” Kieran said, a grin splitting his face.
A snort sprang forth from Anna, and Timothy turned his full attention to Ollie.
Ollie’s eyes went large. She flapped a hand at her son. “Don’t you dare, soldier.” Her voice became a growl.
Kieran seemed cowed for a moment but then said with a shrug, “Olive.”
Blond curls fell over Ollie’s hands as she hid her face. Bethany laughed, and Timothy looked back and forth between Kieran and Ollie.
“That’s an old lady’s name,” he said.
“Which is exactly why everyone calls me ‘Ollie’.” When she lifted her head, her cheeks were bright red. She let her hair hang down to obscure her eyes.
“That’s brilliant,” Timothy said and joined in with the laughter.
As an attempt to make Ollie feel better, Anna squeezed Ollie’s fingers. While the children chatted and continued to tease Ollie about her birth name, Anna looked around the garden. Arthur was trying to catch a butterfly, unsuccessfully by the look of things.
Relinquishing her hand, Ollie leant forward and pulled her hand gently away from Anna’s. She made a clicking noise with her tongue and then rubbed her finger and thumb together down by her own ankle.
Arthur’s head rose, his eyes squinted in a cat smile. He padded over the soft grass towards Ollie, who looked honoured. The kids were quiet for a moment.
“Hey, Arthur,” Ollie said as he rubbed his face across her fingers. She ruffled his ears. He purred so loudly everyone heard it.
“I like your cat,” Helen said, watching. “Mum never let us have one.�
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“Erm, excuse me,” Ollie said, smiling at her daughter. “I was all for it, if I remember rightly. It was your father who was adamant a cat was a bad idea.”
“He just figured he’d have to look after the thing when you went on tour,” Kieran said but visibly swallowed when Ollie looked at him. “That’s just what he said.”
“Can’t say he wouldn’t have been right.” Ollie shrugged, turned her attention back to Arthur, and smoothed his back gently.
Anna watched Ollie lean down to stroke the cat. The sight made her stomach was warm. She lifted her hand and rubbed soothing circles across Ollie’s shoulders.
“He’s a bit of a grumpy sod, our Arthur,” Anna explained to Kieran and Helen. “Doesn’t let just anyone fuss over him.”
“Ollie’s got the touch,” Bethany said, her voice warm.
Anna winked at her daughter and their gazes locked.
With a nod, Bethany went back to her drink, and to her surreptitious observation of Kieran.
“Did you see the wall hanging Mum and Ollie made?” Beth asked.
“It wasn’t only us,” Anna reminded her. “The whole group helped. Everyone made at least a dozen squares each.”
“We heard about it,” Helen said.
“Wasn’t it like a mile wide or something insane?” Kieran asked.
“That would be almost impossible,” Timothy answered. “A mile is one thousand six-hundred and nine metres and thirty-four centimetres. Each square averaged about twenty centimetres.”
Everyone looked at him wide-eyed, but he continued. Anna wasn’t sure if he had noticed their shock or if he was simply ignoring it, anxious to get out his calculations. “That means a blanket of a mile wide would need at least eighty-one squares. And that would just be one row. If it was two metres tall, say, you’d need eight-hundred squares.” He turned to Ollie. “How long would it take the group to make eight-hundred squares, Ollie?”
“The mind boggles, Timothy, it really does.”
Anna gazed at Ollie with affection tingling in her belly, and Ollie shot her a wink.
Hooked on You Page 32
