Chance Encounters

by Mia Jae

  Unable to keep the connection, I broke away and pushed from the sink. Dodged her as she gasped, stepped back and called my name. I paused for only a moment, risking one last look at her. Then I left.

  God, she was beautiful.

  * * * *

  Sam nodded toward the door as I tripped around the bar toward the entrance. My cab was there. Thank God. Reaching in my purse, I shoved a wad of bills his way. “Hope this covers it. If not, I’ll pay you the rest when I pick up my keys tomorrow.”

  “Sure thing, Lyric. Be careful. I called Stoker.”

  Good.

  The crisp fall night bit at my face upon leaving the bar. I glanced left and saw the yellow cab waiting, stumbled toward it, opened the door and fell inside.

  “Get me the hell out of here, Stoke.” Brad Stoker was my regular cabbie. Enough said. “Home.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I relaxed in the seat.

  “She coming, too?”

  “Wha—?” A quick glance out the window and I saw Vanessa moving toward the car. She stopped when our gazes connected. “No. No.”

  Stoke moved the cab forward. I watched Vanessa’s eyes until I couldn’t see them anymore.

  * * * *

  My shower beckoned.

  I let myself in with the key under the rock and waved at Stoke as he left. Was it a bad thing I had a friendly relationship with the cabbie who deposited me on my doorstep when I was too drunk to drive?

  No. Definitely not.

  The shower did wonders for my fuzzy head, and clarity set in pretty damned quick. I’d just gotten fingered up by a woman in a bar restroom. Whoa… Wrapping my Kimono style robe about me, I moved through the living room toward the kitchen, raking my fingers through my hair. Pushing the thought out of my head until I could wrap my brain around what had happened earlier.

  A glass of water, an aspirin, and bed. All three were calling me.

  Avoidance. I know. I’m good at it.

  I flipped the knob on my stereo as I went by. Ah, good. Norah… Sweet, bluesy and sultry.

  At the sink, Callie weaved in and out of my legs while I pulled down a glass. Torti jumped onto the counter—she loves watching the water run. I whisked her off to the floor, as is my usual habit. Of course, no matter how much I do not want the kittens on my kitchen counter, I know they sneak up there when I am gone.

  Bad kitties.

  For the moment, however, they both indulged me and stayed down, circling my ankles and rubbing up against my damp legs. Torti put her tongue on my lower calf and licked off a drop or two. She loved to do that.

  I didn’t like it. Not really.

  “No, Torti.” I’d read somewhere that you shouldn’t let cats or dogs do that. That they liked the salts in the soap residue that was left on your skin, but that it wasn’t good for their insides. “No, baby.”

  I scooped her up into my arms and gave her a hug. Torti was the huggy, snuggly one. She never resisted my cuddles. Unlike Callie who always backed off at my advances. Oh, she’d act like she wanted some affection. Like now, rubbing up against my legs, but at the last minute she’d get skittish, bat at me, and pull away.

  Unsure still. Reserved. Even though I secretly know she wants me to cuddle her, just like I cuddle Torti.

  I let Torti drop to the floor and stared into the sink. My stomach clutched.

  Oh. Damn.

  I’m like Callie. Backing off at Vanessa’s advances. Even though deep inside I know that I want her affection.

  I do.

  Does she know that, too?

  I ran some water in my glass and took a sip. My front doorbell rang.

  The Lovers padded toward the sound.

  * * * *

  “We need to talk, Lyric.”

  She stood framed in my doorway, a sight to behold. Her long hair was tossed over one shoulder. Her red lips were moist and inviting, and her eyes were speaking…no, almost pleading with me to let her in. Their sea green hue caught my gaze and held, and I knew I couldn’t close the door.

  Glancing behind Vanessa, I watched the tail end of a yellow cab leave my driveway. Fucking traitor, Stoker.

  Sighing, I closed my eyes and motioned her inside.

  Shit. Moment of truth?

  What is the truth?

  Damn if I know.

  I closed the door and glanced Vanessa’s way, our gazes skidding sideways as I passed. She followed me into the living room. “I was about to get some water. Can I get you anything?”

  She didn’t speak. A crawling sensation moved up my back.

  “Lyric, turn around.”

  Closing my eyes, I stopped in my tracks and gave myself a second, breathing in and out. One cleansing breath.

  I turned.

  Vanessa stood just inches behind me. “What I would like, Lyric,” she began softly, “is for you to slow down and stop running from me. I can chase for a while, but sooner or later, I’ll get frustrated and find other prey.”

  Prey?

  “I didn’t know I was prey.”

  “Figure of speech.”

  “No. No. What do you mean by that, Vanessa?”

  She drew closer. “Lyric. I’ve been providing you with subtle—and maybe not so subtle—hints for a couple of weeks now. I’m extremely attracted to you. I want…”

  “I’m not gay.”

  Her chin lowered, and she gazed at me from beneath hooded, black-lined lids. One corner of her glossy red lips turned up in a sexy smirk. “I am.”

  “I assumed.”

  “And you are…”

  “Confused.” I tilted my chin.

  “Because you are attracted to me.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you are curious?”

  “I’m curious about making love without a penis.”

  A laugh escaped Vanessa’s lips. Her hands went about my waist, and she tugged me closer. “My sweet Lyric,” she whispered at my lips, her eyes searching mine, “you are a gem. I assure you, darling, that I can make up for the lack of a penis.” She drew back a bit and stared into my face. “Lyric, I want you, but I also want you to know that I don’t do this casually. I have feelings for you, in addition to the sexual attraction. I want you to know that.”

  “Vanessa, I…”

  “Shsh, my sweet.” Again, she placed a finger on my lips, just as she had done in the bar, “don’t think too much. It causes your brain to send strange messages to your heart.”

  My heart. Right now, I wasn’t thinking much about my heart. I was thinking more about how my pussy was tingling at her nearness.

  “Come.” She grasped my hand and led me toward the couch. “Come sit with me. Let’s just…”

  She sat and pulled me onto the sofa. We both sank into it, and as we did so, her arm went about me. I moved into her body as if I was meant to be there, and I laid my head on her shoulder. She cupped my face with her palm.

  “You’re a hard worker, Lyric. You rush to be better than the next guy. Nothing wrong with working hard, if you let yourself play some, too.” She paused a moment, threading her fingers through my damp hair. “The stress will eat you up if you let it.”

  She was right. I knew that.

  But this wasn’t about stress. It was about something else entirely.

  I didn’t want to talk about it, really. I didn’t want to talk at all. Talking would only screw things up. What I wanted, at that moment, was for her to continue playing with my hair. “Hold me,” I said softly, while slipping my arms around her waist. That was all I wanted to say.

  “You smell heavenly,” came her soft voice a few moments later. I had drifted off, dozed, still under the influence of bourbon chased by a hot shower and calmed by her nearness and warmth. Her lips were close to my ear, and I remained still, waiting, savoring the sensation of her steady, moist breath against my skin, enjoying the nearness of her mouth.

  Her breathing came in rhythm.

  In. Out. In. Out.

  Like a heartbeat.

  Stead
y and certain. Steady and certain.

  Shifting, I angled my face toward hers, and our mouths brushed. Vanessa’s hand left the length of hair she’d been stroking and palmed my cheek. I sank further into the sofa and her embrace, and we kissed.

  Velvet lips rubbed over mine, wet and warm and tasting of cinnamon. A ribbon of something foreign—something wild and free and sensual—began a slow uncoiling behind my breastbone. It sizzled and popped and sprang to life as she deepened the kiss, and I found myself responding with urgency. I wanted to open up my chest and take Vanessa inside of me. I loved how she was making me feel.

  My body was like an unbridled electrical current…like it had been held at bay for way too long (perhaps a lifetime?) and was now being set free.

  Free.

  Tension dissolved in my chest. My body became languid, ready to be plied and molded, while Vanessa’s lips moved to my neck, made a lazy, licking trail over my collarbone, and began a southerly route toward my breasts.

  I found myself falling back against the sofa seat while she lay sprawled on top of me.

  “Such a wicked little fox…” she breathed, pulling the sash of my Kimono away from my waist, the sides of the robe falling open and revealing my breasts. She took one of my heavy tits in each palm. Yes, I was endowed. “Lovely,” she muttered, fondling.

  She twiddled with both of my nipples, tugging and rolling until they were pebble hard. I closed my eyes against the sensation that pulled from those tips and made a beeline toward my pussy.

  I heard moaning and realized it was coming from my own lips.

  “Yes, my sweet…”

  I felt a tug at my waist, which piqued my curiosity.

  “Be still, Lyric,” Vanessa said. “This may make things a bit easier.”

  The silk sash was zipped from beneath me. I opened my eyes long enough to realize that Vanessa was reaching to place the sash around my eyes.

  The silk was cool, and it felt nice. Gently, but firmly, she tied the sash snug at the side of my head.

  “Okay?”

  I nodded. Yes. I was definitely okay.

  Not seeing was nice. I didn’t know what was happening next. I could simply wait and anticipate. I could just let it happen. Sort of like it was out of my control.

  Sort of.

  I could wonder. Imagine. Feel.

  My mind’s eye concentrated on her hands, palms flat against my skin, skimming down the sides of my waist to my hips, smoothing over my belly, sliding down my thighs. Vanessa moved lower and I was certain I could feel her breath against my pussy. I shivered and she sighed. I heard it quite clear. It was a sigh of contentment, of pleasure. Of desire.

  She desired me. Yes.

  And I her.

  Fingers tucked between my thighs and spread them.

  “Open for me, Lyric,” Vanessa demanded. And for once, I didn’t want to be in control. I didn’t want to be the woman in charge. I wanted to lay back and let someone else be the boss.

  “Take me, Vanessa…” I would plead if that was what she wanted me to do.

  “When I take you, I just may tame you, darling. Is that okay with you? You may like being tamed, my little pussycat. You may like being won over by a cunt instead of a dick.” Her breath was warm against my flesh. I was open and exposed and could sense and feel her lips so close to my pussy.

  Vanessa’s lips. A woman’s.

  “Tame me.”

  “Lyric… You are sure?”

  My pussy throbbed at her nearness. “Touch me, Vanessa. Please. Do something… Don’t make me wait. I…”

  Her fingertips parted my pussy lips and the tip of something firm and wet and pointed laved over my clit. Then stopped.

  “You’ve already come once tonight, Lyric, and it was way too fast. This time, I will take my time.”

  Time. We had time, right…?

  Her mouth claimed me.

  Her tongue won me over.

  Long, liquid licks circled my cunt, tracing around my hole, and dipping inside my vagina. A hand slipped under my ass and she fiddled with my asshole while licking me. Her swipes against my flesh were determined and calculated. Practiced, perhaps. As if she knew exactly what I wanted, what would turn me to jelly.

  Panting, with small breaths escaping my throat, I wanted to lurch forward and grasp her…but was hesitant. Passion roiled inside my belly, behind my pelvic bone, aching to be set free.

  Free.

  Aching to be set free.

  “Vanessa,” I breathed. Shit.

  Shit.

  Shuddering, I clutched at the silk Kimono at my sides, balling it up in my fists. I wanted to see her. Wanted to watch her tongue reach out and touch my clit. I wanted to tangle my fingers in her hair. I wanted…

  “Oh, god…”

  Ripples of orgasmic pleasure burst over my pussy. Vanessa plunged a finger into my vagina, my walls squeezing around the digit as she probed. The orgasm raced across my thighs, my lower body convulsed and quivered.

  My toes curled.

  She pulled away. A cool breeze wafted over my open body. The sensation felt surreal, distorted, disengaged…

  Reaching to my forehead, I pulled the sash away and looked at her. She said straight up on the sofa, fully dressed. I leaned up, closed my legs and pushed to a sitting position myself.

  “I’m leaving now, Lyric.”

  But…

  But I wanted more.

  She rose and took a step toward the door. “I am leaving you to think, to ponder. To be sure. Before we go any further, before I invest myself, I want you to be certain.”

  Shit.

  “Vanessa…”

  I joined her, and she stepped backward, shaking her head and putting her hands out in front of her. “No, Lyric. Good night. Sleep. And tomorrow, think. We’ll talk soon.”

  “When?”

  Lowering her chin, she peered into my eyes. “Soon.”

  She left and I found myself standing alone in the center of my living room, my chest heaving with laden breaths.

  Dammit.

  I’m pussy-whipped.

  * * * *

  Pinching the bridge of my nose, I knew, was not the best way to get rid of an approaching migraine. But pinch I did as I sat at my desk, hunched over specs and blueprints, squinting my eyes to read the tiny print.

  I needed caffeine.

  Hadn’t left my desk all day though. Wouldn’t.

  I took a deep breath and exhaled, while closing my eyes against the late afternoon glare pouring in my office window.

  Shit. I might be able to avoid the kitchen and the coffee maker and Vanessa, but I couldn’t avoid the restroom. I did have to pee.

  Avoidance. I was good at it. Remember?

  I hadn’t slept for two nights. Couldn’t. All I could do was think of her and how she’d made me feel, coupled with the fact that I’d felt damned rejected as she left.

  Fool. What a fool I am.

  And hurt.

  Before I invest myself, I want you to be certain.

  Fuck.

  Certain about what? That I like pussy better than cock? How in the hell would I really know that? I’ve not really had pussy yet. She’d just had mine.

  Deeper.

  Maybe it goes much deeper. I wonder. What the hell was she talking about?

  Not pussy.

  Emotion? Feelings? Caring for someone.

  Well, that was just too damned bad. I didn’t let feelings go too deep. Never have been able to go deep with relationships. Safer that way.

  I’m still in control. I call the shots.

  Funny, you’re not calling the shots now, Lyric. One lick of her tongue across your clit and you were putty in her hands, er, lips. And now you’re pining away and sulking about it at the same time.

  Fuck. No.

  I sidled toward the door, glanced into the hallway, and stepped hastily toward the office exit. The women’s restroom was in the hall outside of the office. It was later than usual. Maybe no one was here.

&nbs
p; I made my way to the bathroom unnoticed and unscathed. As I slipped into a stall, I heard the door open again and someone’s heels click on the tile and enter the stall next to me.

  The perfume smelled familiar.

  No.

  I waited. She did her business and left quickly. A sigh of relief escaped my lips.

  * * * *

  Back in my office, I got back to work. Engrossed on my project, and intent on what I was studying, I didn’t hear her enter and close the door behind her.

  “Lyric.”

  My head jerked up. I didn’t speak.

  Vanessa sat across my desk, staring me straight on. “Well?”

  Clearing my throat, I stared right back. “Well what, Vanessa?”

  “How are you?”

  How am I?

  “Vanessa, what do you want?”

  “Oh, you’re angry and hurt.” She crossed her legs, and my gaze was drawn to the movement. Long, shapely legs, sheathed in silk stockings, folding together like pages of a book.

  I closed my eyes against the scene. Angry and hurt. “Not angry.”

  “Hurt.”

  “Confused.”

  I shot up from behind my desk and glared at her. “Vanessa, I’m not interested in playing games. What is it that you want from me? Because I’m not certain.”

  “I want you, Lyric,” she said calmly. Her body had not moved from its relaxed position since she sat down.

  Me? I was coiled tight like a snake in a basket. My stomach was twittering and my pulse racing.

  “You want me.”

  “Yes.”

  “Helluva way to show it the other night, walking out on me.”

  She rose then and took two steps closer. Placing her manicured fingers precisely on the desktop, she leaned closer. Her perfume wafted against my nostrils, and her cleavage beckoned.

  “I thought I made it perfectly clear why I left. And if you think that was an easy thing to do, rest assured, it wasn’t.”

  Before I invest myself, I want you to be certain.

  I chuckled. “Yeah, I want to be certain myself. Isn’t that the way it is with relationships, Vanessa? We all want to be certain. Thing is, certainty is never a sure thing with couples, is it?”

  “It can be.”

  “Not in my experience.” I started shoving some things into my purse. Keys. Cell phone. The damned day planner.