by H. L. Logan
“Waiting? Why?” Did she not know she could’ve stuck her tongue down my throat in the middle of the humanities building if she wanted to? Hell, she could’ve stripped me naked in the campus cafeteria. I would’ve just been happy she wanted me.
“I wasn’t sure how you felt before,” she said. “Things seemed… off.”
“Oh, things are on.” I grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Things are definitely on.”
An unexpected grin came over her face, but it rapidly disappeared as she gestured at Gretchen. “And what about her?”
* * *
If my roommate hadn’t walked through the door at that precise moment, I don’t know what we would’ve done. As it stood, I ran at Clara with an urgency exclusively known to those going through a protracted dry spell who were about to finally get some.
“Want to make a quick twenty bucks? Take this baby and get the hell out of here!”
Clara opened her mouth to ask a question, but seeing Faye behind me, seemed to understand. “Make it thirty,” she said. “And an extra five to put a sock on the door.”
“A sock?” I had my own socks, but did I really want to interrupt the mood to do it? Clara’s business savvy was impressive. “Fine, thirty-five and it’s a deal.”
With her and Gretchen gone, I took Faye in my arms and embraced her again. “My room is that way.”
“I’d like to check it out.”
I shut the door behind us. Our mouths met again and I shuddered at the sensation of her tongue melting against mine. I grabbed her shoulders, directing her toward the bed. We tumbled onto it together, our limbs entwining in a messy heap. I tore at her clothes, needing to feel her skin against my hands.
“So what do you think of the room?” I asked, panting.
“It’s great,” she said, “but I feel like I’m missing something.” She pulled at the hem of my shirt. “I think I need to see everything in it.”
“That’s your best line, huh?” I laughed, although my voice caught when she took off my bra and caressed my breasts. “Thought you were an English professor. Shouldn’t you have some smooth, seductive thing to say?”
“Something like whatever happens with us, your body will haunt mine?” She closed her fingers around one nipple, making me gasp even as I cringed.
“Not fair. No making fun of me now.”
“Do I sound like I’m making fun of you?” She pushed me lightly onto my back.
“So you’re saying my body will actually always haunt yours?”
She stared down at me, taking me in from head to toe. “I think it might.” Her lips closed over a nipple, and any inclination I’d had to argue or banter was gone.
My body shook as she sucked my breasts. For minutes on end, all I could feel was the caress of her tongue. All I could hear was my own ragged breathing.
The incredible sensation came to an end as Faye eased off me, giving me a hungry look. She glanced at my waist, then back to my face. I gave her a hurried nod, and without a word, she stripped off my jeans and panties.
It took about a millisecond for me to get as worked-up and flustered as I’d been a minute before. My back arched against the bed as she placed her hand between my thighs. My face twisted in ecstasy. Every time I managed to open my eyes enough to look at her, I had to squeeze them shut again.
Was this a dream? Or some other plane of reality? It couldn’t be possible that the woman I’d wanted for years was honest-to-goodness fingering me.
The moment went on and on, until my sense of time turned to mush and all I knew was the sensual embrace surrounding me. I no longer knew what Faye was doing to me. I had no words for the things that were happening. My world had narrowed to the pinpoints behind my eyelids and the skilful caress sweeping over my nub.
I seized up and yelled out, the climax possessing me as Faye continued to rub me hard.
When she spoke again, I had no idea what she was talking about. “Oh yeah, it definitely will.”
“Huh?” I struggled for air.
“Your body. Haunt mine.” She set an affectionate hand on my mound—as drained as I was, the touch made me twitch for more.
“I’ll haunt you right now.”
With a sly grin, she rolled onto her back and pulled off her shirt. “Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
I positioned myself between her legs, determined to send her to the same heights of ecstasy I’d just reached. “You’ll find out, Professor.”
14
Faye
So I’d failed at leaving the ball in Jaz’s court. It seemed to have worked out well enough in the end.
She’d never offered a proper explanation for why she hadn’t made a move on me, but she seemed more than willing to go along with what I’d started.
Who knew why she’d been reluctant that first time? Maybe she’d had other things on her mind. Or maybe it’d all been in my head. That was kind of known to happen from time to time.
In any case, our relationship shifted not-so-subtly in the week leading up to Amanda and Gretchen’s visit. To the world, we were the same as always. But behind my office doors, we exchanged kisses… and gropes. We visited each other’s apartments. One time, we even appropriated an empty classroom for our purposes.
I had the physical relationship I’d craved with the hot younger woman I’d gone after. I should’ve been walking on the clouds.
But something nagged at some deep place in my heart. Was it my concern over Gretchen? Because there was plenty of that. Every time I thought about not having her anymore, my stomach churned and my limbs went weak.
I could identify that concern, though—could deconstruct it, parse it, comprehend it.
I suspected there was more to this odd feeling. That it was something to do with Jaz.
It’s a funny thing, that physical stuff. You think you can keep it casual only. No problem. That you can separate lust from love, and that you’d never get caught up in feelings when all you’re trying to do is find release.
But sometimes it sneaks up on you.
Sometimes you catch yourself thinking about them when they’re not around. Not just once, but all the time. And not just dirty thoughts, either.
Sometimes the flash of a grin makes your knees go unsteady, and you realize you’d do anything to see her smile again.
Sometimes you’re kissing someone and you wonder when she last kissed anyone else. And the thought makes you anxious, and you can’t explain why.
And your heart clenches up, and you don’t want her to kiss anyone but you ever again.
* * *
“It’s still 12:27,” Jaz said. “You can leave in twenty minutes.”
I twisted my watch around to the other side of my wrist. Of course she’d caught me peeking at it. “Am I that obvious?”
Jaz swung her legs from my lap down to the foot of the couch. “You’re nervous. It’s understandable.”
I guessed it was. This meeting with Amanda had been weighing on my mind more than I cared to admit. I’d spent most of the past week wishing I could just skip the anxiety and fast-forward to the point when it would be over. However the coffee date would end up, I just wanted to know, already.
I rolled over to glance into Gretchen’s bassinet. She was sound asleep, as she had been for the past hour. The baby monitor hung in the corner, ready to alert us to any problems no matter where in the apartment we happened to be.
“Is it time to get dressed yet?” I asked, gesturing at my bare limbs. We’d fooled around in the kitchen… and the shower… before ending up naked on the couch.
“I don’t know,” Jaz said, running her fingers down my stomach. “Is it going to take you twenty minutes to throw some clothes on?”
“If I comb my hair for fifteen of those minutes.” I jiggled my foot, wanting to be somehow in motion.
Jaz snaked her arms around me, landing on top of me so I couldn’t get away. “I can think of some better things to do for fifteen minutes.”
The closeness of her body sent sparks racing through my veins. Despite the climaxes I’d just had, Jaz was making me want more. She had a way of doing that.
“I don’t think I can manage another round,” I groaned.
She brought herself over me, breast to breast, her breath brushing against my lips. “Can you manage to kiss me?”
I smiled. “I could probably handle that.”
One long, lingering kiss later, and she settled against my chest. “Think you could do that fourteen more times?”
“Did that really take a minute?” I checked my watch. She was right. “Hmm… fourteen more kisses like that might have me ready to go again, but I’ll take the chance.”
The time flew by… to the point where I only had three minutes to get dressed. I grabbed my clothes from the heap on the floor where I’d left them, throwing them on in record time. “I don’t even have time to comb my hair,” I said, racing for the door.
Jaz was right behind me, and she ran her fingers through it before attaching Gretchen’s sling around my neck. Pinching Gretchen’s chubby cheek, she looked into my eyes. “You’ll be all right,” she told me. “No matter what happens, it’ll be all right.”
My heart swelled. What would I even do without her here to support me? Leaning as close as I could with Gretchen suspended between us, I stroked her jaw. “Thank you.”
I opened the door, glancing once more at my watch. 12:49. I might actually be two minutes late for this meeting I’d been so anxious about. I’d never normally speed, but this might be a good time to start.
“Good luck,” Jaz said.
I stepped through, and my phone vibrated.
“Someone’s texting you?” Jaz asked, a step behind me.
A lump had suddenly formed in my throat. “They’ll have to wait,” I said.
But as we looked at each other, I knew we both knew who was texting.
Slowly, reluctantly, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The message was exactly what I’d expected. Exactly what I should’ve anticipated all along.
>AMANDA: Can’t make it today. Some other time!
No explanation. No apology. No attempt to reschedule.
My heart was a dull weight in my chest as I slumped into Jaz’s arms. “She doesn’t want to see Gretchen,” I whispered. “She doesn’t even care.”
Jaz pulled me close, letting me rest my head on her shoulder. “I’m here for you.”
* * *
I called Amanda a few times. Texted, too. But when I got no response, I was completely unsurprised.
It was all right. I was kind of used to having Gretchen around now. I’d learned so much about how to take care of her, and more of my friends and colleagues were offering to help out when I needed it. The infrastructure was in place, in a way that it hadn’t been when Amanda first dropped her off. She was less of a hassle. More of a joy.
Besides, she’d brought Jaz and I closer, and having her around made life a lot more interesting. After our thwarted first attempts at sleeping together, we’d planned a night in. Without Gretchen.
Jaz arrived at my door at eight on the dot, a bottle of wine in her hand.
“You didn’t need to liquor me up,” I said, taking it from her.
She came inside, slipping off her shoes. “Maybe I wanted to.”
After giving her a kiss, I examined the label. “A twelve-dollar bottle. Fancy.”
“They were out of the six-dollar ones,” she said with a grin.
I poured each of us a glass, my hands slightly shaking at the thought of what was going to happen next. Even if I’d become fairly confident Jaz was attracted to me, being with her like this still made me all kinds of nervous. The things we’d done the other times were great, and I was more than satisfied afterward, but we’d stuck to heavy petting and fingering. And I got painfully aroused every time I thought about actually going down on Jaz… or vice versa.
In fact, as I set the bottle of wine down on the counter, I found it’d happened again.
I caught my breath as I passing her the glass. The heat of her body was sending pulsations straight to my core. I took a long sip of my wine, not wanting her to see just how easily she could turn me on.
“What’s up?” she asked, looking at me oddly. “Oh… I see how it is.”
My face flushed, and wine splashed against the sides of the glass. “What do you see?”
“I see my body’s been haunting yours.”
As I was in the middle of a sip, her words sent me into a coughing fit. By the time my lungs finished spasming, Jaz had pressed up against me, her breath hot on my neck. “The feeling is mutual, if you didn’t notice.”
I took short, ragged breaths. This woman was going to give me a coronary.
“Liquored up yet?” she asked.
Another long sip, and my glass was empty. “As much as I’m going to be.” I set both hands on her waist. “Why? Was there something you wanted?”
“Only this.” She tugged up the hem of my shirt. “And this.” She took her own off.
I paused, running a finger over the ink just above her right bra cup. “Unless?”
“It’s from a Dr. Seuss book,” she said. “To remind me that ‘unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better, it’s not.’”
“A literary tattoo.” A smile curled up my lips. “I’m not surprised that you have one.”
“Then why do you look so amused?” she asked defensively.
My smile got bigger. “You don’t get one of Rich or Lorde… not Dickinson, not Atwood, not Parker, not Plath… but Dr. Seuss. His words are the ones you’ve gotten permanently memorialized on your body.”
“What?” she snapped. “I like kids’ books. That book inspires me. And I’m hoping to read it to my own kids one day.”
Pressing a kiss to the tattoo, I murmured, “There’s nothing wrong with it at all. I think it’s fantastic.”
“All right, then. Where were we?”
“I believe I was about to explore your body.” I cupped her bra, watching her face for a reaction. Once, twice, nothing… until the third time, when her head tipped back and she gasped. “Unless you have a problem with that,” I added.
“No problem at all.”
I ventured further, running my hands down her stomach, her hips, touching and caressing every inch of her slender frame I could reach, paying extra attention to those spots where her breathing got short. My lips and tongue soon followed my fingers. She was even more sensitive when licked and kissed.
Jaz swallowed, looking up at me with half-lidded eyes. “This moment right now makes me want to write a poem.”
“Forget poems.” I grabbed her ass with both hands. “I’m going to make you sing.”
As one, we moved for the bedroom. There was a quick scramble—me undressing her, her undressing me, both of us tearing our own clothes at once—and the rest of our clothes were on the floor.
We kissed then, a hungry, urgent type of kiss that left both of us breathless and needy.
She pushed me toward the bed. Apparently it was my turn first—I wasn’t going to argue.
So with a soft cough, as if the sound would somehow preserve my modesty, I got on the bed and spread my legs.
15
Jaz
If this body was going to haunt me, it’d be the sexiest damn ghost in the history of the planet.
“Oh, fuck.” I caressed each thigh. As desperate as I was to taste her, they were begging to be appreciated. All soft and creamy, the perfect backdrop for the intricate folds between. I stroked and squeezed those thighs, bending to trail my tongue in the direction of her core.
Dr. Faye Charlotte Erwin was completely at my mercy.
Her flesh quivered. “Jaz…” Her hips shuddered forward and backward in an unconscious imitation of a thrust.
Parting her legs, I set my tongue on her. The velvety folds were soaked with her arousal. She squirmed at the first brush of contact, and her reaction only grew as
I trailed my tongue upward. Her hips bucked, and I could tell she was trying to restrain herself… but by the time I reached her clit, she was wriggling helplessly under me.
I swirled my tongue around her bud, enjoying my view of her sexy stomach and quivering breasts. Faye moaned and reached for the back of my head, holding me in. In response, I gripped her waist as if to tell her I wasn’t going anywhere. Until she reached her peak, I belonged exclusively to her and her pleasure.
Every woman was different, and I intended to learn the exact touch Faye would enjoy. I planned to memorize her patterns of arousal and release. Forget poetry—her body would be my ultimate subject. I’d study her, hypothesize about her desire, observe her reactions. I’d compose an erotic thesis about giving her pleasure.
Bobbing my head, I tested out different rhythms, trying to find one she’d like. I added my hand to the mix, slipping a single finger inside her. Moving it in time with my tongue, I peeked at her face to see how she was doing. I couldn’t get a clear view of her, but I glimpsed how her teeth were firmly set in her bottom lip. She thrashed from side to side as if she was already trying not to come.
Interesting… She definitely liked this, then. I climbed to my knees so I could finger her harder, noticing as I did that I could touch myself as well in this position. I slipped a hand between my legs.
Faye sat halfway up, taking in what I was doing. Her frenzied eyes met mine, and she let out an “Oh…”
So that turned her on, seeing me masturbate? I pulled back from her, fingering both of us so she could get a good view. Her gaze fixed on one hand, then the other.
“Oh, fuck,” she hissed, her body seizing up, her hips rising. The last syllable caught in her throat, turning midway into an incoherent groan. I watched her face with self-satisfaction.
The woman of words had lost her words.
* * *
The routine over the next few months was much the same as usual.
