Tess moved gently into her arms as she always did.
Maybe that could be different, Dusty considered, breathing in the fresh scent of Tess’s hair. Maybe they could start sharing more with each other, actually get to know one another more deeply than just on a sexual level. Dusty wasn’t sure she knew how to do that, though—or maybe, more accurately, she wasn’t sure she really did want to do it. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Tess, but then she knew she’d have to tell everything about herself. Wasn’t that the way it worked? If she did that, however, there was no way a woman like Tess would want to have anything to do with her.
She wanted to talk to Tess about what’d happened earlier at Vibes, but what if the conversation then led to her having to reveal her realization about herself being like Victoria Fontaine? It was one thing for Tess to know in general that Dusty was a player, but it was something else for her to actually hear about all the women Dusty had used and toyed with all her adult life. She felt her heartbeat quicken with the fear of Tess’s reaction.
Tess wasn’t like that, though. Dusty had never heard anything judgmental out of her mouth. She was one of the most accepting people she’d ever known. Maybe that would actually apply to the reality of who Dusty had been, too.
“Tess?” Dusty said softly. “Can we talk about something?”
“Mmm.” Tess sounded sleepy. “What would you like to talk about?”
Dusty froze. Now that the door was open, what did she want to talk about? What was her priority? The incident at Vibes seemed less important now that she could talk about anything at all. She could talk about how she thought she was falling in love with Tess, how Tess was the one changing her, how she was afraid everything would be ruined if she talked about anything at all. She could bring up how she wanted to know where Tess grew up, if she had brothers and sisters, if the woman who’d died had been her only partner in her life and how long they’d been together. She could tell Tess how she wanted to be the one to never let anything hurtful happen to her again.
“Uh, I dunno. I just want us to talk. I want there to be more to us than just sex. I mean, not that I mind the sex. I love sex with you. But I don’t think it’s just sex anymore.” Dusty paused. “You know what I mean?”
Tess remained quiet, her breathing even.
Dusty tensed. What was Tess thinking? Was she upset? She rushed on to explain. “I mean, I know we kinda agreed without really saying it that this would be just sex and that we wouldn’t tell anyone about it, but now…I think…Now, I…I think I might be in love with you.” There, she’d said it. She waited, her heart beating so furiously, like the wings of a frightened bird, she thought it might actually take flight right out of her chest.
Still no answer.
“Tess?” Dusty said finally. She eased back and looked down into Tess’s face.
Her eyes were gently closed, the hand resting between Dusty’s breasts, relaxed. She slept peacefully.
Dusty watched her. This was probably better anyway. Tess wouldn’t want to know how Dusty felt. Feelings weren’t part of their arrangement. They were too different. What could possibly come of Dusty being in love with her? Besides, Dusty thought she loved Tess beyond words—it was just as well she couldn’t talk about it, to Tess or anyone else.
Maybe this was part of that Law of Rebecca’s, too. Along with possibly having her home and family torn apart by someone like Victoria Fontaine—someone like herself—did she also have to be unbearably in love with a woman she couldn’t ever have? She’d certainly been the one no one could ever have. She pressed her cheek to Tess’s hair. Until now. Was it punishment, retribution? No, Rebecca called it something else. Whatever it was, maybe it was Dusty’s turn. She’d have to ask Rebecca more about that Law. It was starting to tick her off.
As for her and Tess, it was better to leave things as they were between them, to just continue with the sexual thing and keep it in the dark. As long as they kept themselves hidden, Tess would never know all those things about Dusty, things that would make her see Dusty the way she really was, instead of the way she desperately wanted Tess to see her.
Reluctantly, she eased out from under Tess and slipped into her clothes. She looked at her sleeping lover one last time, pulled the covers up over her, kissed her gently on the lips, then quietly left the room. With her boots and jacket in hand, she pulled the door closed behind her and glanced up just as Eve was coming out of her own bedroom. Dusty froze, as though if she stood still enough, maybe Eve wouldn’t notice her.
Eve’s gaze flickered from Dusty, to Tess’s door, then back to Dusty.
“I, uh, was just—”
Eve held up a hand. “None of my business.”
In the illumination of the two nightlights at either end of the hallway, Dusty could just make out the redness of Eve’s eyes. “Something wrong?”
Eve straightened a bit. “No. I was just going out for a walk. I can’t sleep.” She hesitated, then added, “I wouldn’t mind some company, though. Would you like to join me?”
Dusty considered the invitation. Eve obviously could use a friend, though Dusty still had no idea why. She remembered Maggie’s warning. You stay away from her. “Uh, no. I gotta…” Absently, she raised the hand that held her boots, then awkwardly tucked them behind her. “You know…”
Disappointment flashed in Eve’s expression. “Sure. That’s okay. I’ll see you later.” She ducked her head and moved past Dusty, around the stair railing, and down the steps.
Dusty listened as the chimes in the entryway sounded and the front door closed. She felt like an absolute jerk. Eve had obviously been reaching out for some comfort, and she had been making an effort toward Dusty in the past few days since she’d moved in. All that weirdness from the first day they’d met was gone, and although Dusty would’ve liked to return the gesture, there was no way she was going against Maggie.
Conflicted about the whole evening—Addison and Victoria, herself and Tess, and now Eve—Dusty headed to the tranquility of her own room.
Chapter Nine
Maggie stood in the lobby of the Cineplex Theater at Universal CityWalk and glanced at her watch. She had her ticket. She had popcorn. She had sodas. All she needed was her date. Silly as it was, she had been excited about this all week.
It was their first official date since they’d had their talk the previous weekend. Addison had actually called Maggie from work on Monday morning and asked her out to a movie this afternoon, to be followed by a romantic dinner at a restaurant of her choosing. They had made love Tuesday night, and flowers had come on Wednesday. Then Addison hadn’t gotten home from dinner with a client that night until after Maggie had gone to bed. She had gotten up the next morning before Maggie woke, and they had seen little of each other since. Now she was late.
This wasn’t how Maggie had envisioned their date beginning. She had seen them meeting in front of the theater and sharing a kiss. She would slip her arm around Addison’s waist while Addison bought the tickets and refreshments, and they would walk hand-in-hand into the darkened theater to snuggle together and watch the romantic comedy they’d chosen. Again, silly.
Maggie had been excited about a fresh start after so many years, a kind of renewal of commitment to make their relationship a priority. She hadn’t expected them to slip back into old habits so quickly. She hadn’t expected that today she would, once again, be purchasing her own ticket so she would have time to get the food as Addison rushed in from work as she had done so many times. But there she was. So, as she had done so many times, she walked into the theater alone.
The previews began as Maggie fitted a drink in the cup holder of the empty seat beside her, but the images flashed across the screen sans her interest. Instead, she wrestled with quelling her irritation lest she start an argument before their date ever began. This will take some adjustment. Habits will need to be broken on both our parts. Addison will, perhaps, be needin’ some time to shift her thinkin’ more frequently from work
on weekends, and I’ll be needin’ some practice lettin’ each moment be fresh, not holdin’ us in the past. Besides, Addison had said she’d gotten two new accounts this week, and start-ups were always more time consuming.
Ten minutes into the movie, Addison slipped into the chair beside her. “Did I miss anything?” she whispered. She took a huge gulp of her soda.
Maggie smiled. “Just the leadin’ lady throwing a drink in someone’s face. And my kiss hello.”
Addison hesitated, then leaned over the armrest and brushed her lips across Maggie’s. Her expression was difficult to read, and she sat back and slouched down in her seat after the perfunctory greeting.
Something was wrong. Maggie could feel it. Her spidey sense was tingling, as Dusty would say. Was it that air, that cloud, that Addison had been drifting around in for the past couple of months? Was it back? Maggie shifted uneasily. No, this was different. This was stronger, maybe darker. She passed the bag of popcorn to Addison, and their fingers touched.
Addison drew away, subtly, but definitely.
Maggie knew Addison, sometimes better than Addison knew herself. She had been with her—been her partner, her lover, her best friend, sometimes even her therapist—for twelve years. She knew when Addison was struggling. Whatever this was, Maggie intended to see her through it. They had broken through something last weekend and connected, deeply and intimately, and she didn’t doubt the authenticity of what they had shared. If that’s what she needs, then that’s what I’ll give her.
Maggie raised the armrest between them and pressed lightly against her. She slipped her hand over Addison’s thigh.
Addison stiffened slightly, her eyes fixed on the screen. She held the bag of popcorn so Maggie could get some.
Maggie took several pieces into her own mouth, then held up a couple to Addison’s lips. “Want a bite?” she whispered, blowing warm breath into Addison’s ear. She felt Addison’s sharp gasp.
Addison opened her mouth, the tip of her tongue grazing Maggie’s fingertips as she accepted the popcorn.
That’s more like it. Maggie grazed Addison’s lower lip with her nail.
Addison shuddered and closed her eyes.
Maggie eased back. She rested her head on Addison’s shoulder and smiled.
As they watched the movie characters maneuver through the antics of falling in love, Maggie began tracing tight circles along Addison’s inner thigh. Feeling her begin to surrender to the caress, she deepened her touch, massaging with longer strokes.
Addison tipped her head back against the seat.
Maggie knew her eyes were hooded. In their early days, before their time together became commonplace and their joined lives got busier, she would tease Addison, slowly and at length. Her hands had always been somewhere on Addison’s body, moving, exploring, tantalizing—just like now. Then, when they would finally be alone, Addison would go wild. She would take Maggie in pure need. Maggie loved it. She grinned in the dark. Yes, it’s time for some renewal. And if Addison needs some help with it, so be it. She strengthened her touch and began a languid massage just below the apex of Addison’s thighs.
*
Addison’s body thrummed with desire. She’d been aching for release all morning—in truth, since Wednesday night. She’d been able to think of little other than the memory of Victoria dancing, moving against her. The ride back to the inn, the heat emanating from her body warming the ambiance in the car. Her distraction as Victoria talked on about how much she loved to dance and how grateful she was for Addison’s willingness to spend the evening with her. And finally, that long moment when Victoria hinted with the closeness of her body and the slight parting of her lips that there might be a kiss, before she turned away with a wave. Addison had been desperate—desperate with need for Victoria’s mouth on hers, desperate with relief that it hadn’t happened. She wouldn’t have been able to say no, and yet, even in that moment, she knew she had to.
Maggie’s hand inched closer to the throb between Addison’s legs. Her strong fingers worked the taut flesh of her inner thigh, tugging the seam of her jeans tightly against her clit with each movement. She knew Maggie wouldn’t actually go there in a public place—well, she knew Maggie knew Addison wouldn’t go there in a public place and would respect that—but she also knew Maggie had no idea just how on the edge she was. She could easily come right then and there, but she wouldn’t do that to Maggie. She couldn’t.
Addison’s need right then, her need for the past three days, wasn’t for Maggie. Sure, it was in the sense that she always desired Maggie and had since the day they met, but the ache in her clit, the hardness of her nipples, the burning need for release in this moment was all for another woman. Addison had come home Wednesday night wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed with Maggie and take her like she’d done the previous weekend, like she used to do all the time. She’d awakened the next morning aching to roll over and let Maggie feast on her as she so enjoyed doing in the early hours before dawn. Instead, she’d forced herself out of bed and gone for a run, unwilling to have Maggie’s mouth on her while she imagined it as someone else’s. She’d thought the cool air, the exercise, and a cold shower would calm her senses and drown the craziness of her mind and body, but that hadn’t happened. Instead, she’d spent the past three days fighting off images of Victoria, trying to escape the memories of her by burying herself in work, but all efforts had failed. Even her attempts to bring herself release only left her aching for more, aching for Victoria.
And she couldn’t take this need to Maggie. She couldn’t make love to her with visions and fantasies of another woman spurring her desire. She had to get control, and she had to dissuade Maggie’s obvious intentions until she did.
Maggie snuggled closer, her breast pressing against Addison’s arm. She continued her teasing caress.
It felt so good. Maggie felt so good. Her knowledge of Addison’s body, the mixture of love and torment in her touch, this was Maggie. No stranger, no one new could know exactly where and how to touch her. But Victoria’s image crowded in, filling her thoughts, forcing all others out.
Addison gently grasped Maggie’s wrist and slowed her caress to a stop.
Maggie looked up at her, an eyebrow arched.
She brought Maggie’s hand to her lips and kissed her fingers, then smiled and slipped her arm around Maggie’s shoulders, holding her close, but motionless.
When the movie ended, they walked out hand-in-hand. Addison’s body had settled back into that ever-present yet still comparatively merciful hum of desire, and she was grateful they’d soon be in a restaurant on opposite sides of the table. “Did you decide where you want to go for dinner?”
“I was thinkin’ Miceli’s,” Maggie said, smiling up at her. “We’ve not been there for a while, it’s close to home, and Italian is always romantic.”
Addison looked into Maggie’s eyes, noting the spark of anticipation and desire. Addison loved her so much it hurt. She’d been so excited about their agreement to put more focus on the two of them, and she still was. Even though…God, what am I doing? What the hell’s wrong with me? “Okay,” she said with a soft stroke across Maggie’s temple. “I’ll follow you there.”
As the hostess seated them at a cozy table in the back, Maggie excused herself to use the restroom. “Will you order me a glass of merlot, luv?” She trailed her fingertips over Addison’s shoulder as she passed her.
“Sure.” Addison touched her hand gently. She sighed. She knew already how disappointed Maggie would be later when Addison told her she wasn’t up to making love. She winced at the thought of having to face that look in her eyes.
“Well, well, who do we have here?” A waitress stepped up to the table, the voice familiar.
Addison looked into the face of the woman from the gas station the previous week, the same day she’d met Victoria. Christ! I am in hell. That has to be it. I’ve died and no one told me, and I’m in hell. The thought actually brought her some comfort. At least if t
hat were true, she wouldn’t have to look at what a mess she could possibly make of her life.
“Did you change your mind?”
“Hi. No,” Addison said quickly. She’d forgotten the woman worked here. She’d actually forgotten her completely. “I didn’t change my mind.” She glanced toward the bathroom. “And I’m here with my partner, so can we please not mention our conversation?”
The waitress smiled. “Sure, sweetheart. No problem. You look kind of pale, though. You might want to pat your cheeks a little bit.” She demonstrated on herself.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Would you like to start with any drinks or an appetizer?” With a trace of laughter still in her eyes, she took out a pad and pencil.
“Please,” Addison said. “Two glasses of merlot.”
“You got it.”
Addison’s thoughts returned to the evening ahead, to Victoria’s ongoing domination of her mind, to Maggie’s inevitable disappointment, to the torment of lying next to her all night. Maybe she could just drink herself into oblivion. It wasn’t her usual way of dealing with things, but then, there was nothing usual about her situation. “On second thought, make mine a dirty martini,” she said. The more alcohol, the better. “And keep ’em coming.”
Chapter Ten
Tess climbed out of her Sunbird, balancing her latte in one hand as she adjusted her purse and briefcase with the other. She’d had trouble sleeping the previous night—in fact, she’d had trouble sleeping all week, ever since the last time she had shared her bed with Dusty—and she was thankful for her early office hours today. The faculty parking lot was barely a third full at seven thirty, and the morning breeze carried the remaining fragrance of the night-blooming jasmine that filled the cement planters surrounding the quad at this end of the campus.
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