Lucky Love: A Lesbian Romance

by Anna Cove

  When we walked into the old Victorian, however, shock stilled my amorous intentions. "Wow, you got a lot done while I was gone."

  "Yeah, I guess I did." Alice glanced at the hall as if seeing it for the first time.

  "This whole hallway is almost like I remember it back in the day. It brings on the chills, you know? Except there's a dinginess to it Lois would never have allowed."

  "That's on me, I'm afraid. I'm supposed to be taking care of the house."

  "If anything, it's on Lois for gathering all that stuff and on me for squatting here all that time."

  Alice didn't answer. Her hand drooped loosely in mine. She seemed further away than ever. Even when we had fought, she had seemed more present.

  "Hey." I squeezed her hand. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," she said. "I'm just tired. We were up really early to start the turkey."

  I wanted to press her, to have the deep conversation we needed to have, but if she was anything like me talking wouldn't help just then. I pushed down the urge to bring us back around to those more serious topics.

  "Do you want to go upstairs?" I tilted my head in the direction of the staircase. "Go to bed?"

  "Yeah, that would be nice."

  She looked as if she held the weight of the world on her shoulders. Honestly, it pulled down my spirits a little, too, but part of committing would be caring for her. It meant being there for her when she needed a support. I could do that.

  I squeezed her hand, leading her down the hall to the room she'd slept in when she'd stayed over. I guided her to the bed. She sat down, her shoulders sagging forward.

  What could I do? I could see something weighed on her, but if she didn't tell me what, how could I help her? She stretched out her neck. Maybe a massage would help.

  I settled behind her, my knees splayed on either side of her torso. As I dug my thumbs into her shoulders, she let out a moan.

  Yes. This was helping. This was something I could do. As she relaxed, something loosened in me as well. Even this touching, this silent intimate touching, was enough to connect with her. It had been so long.

  After a few minutes, just touching her in this simple way started the heat burning in my center. I tugged the clip out of her hair and let it fall in one large curl over her shoulder. She was so beautiful. Like a model.

  With shallow breaths, I swept her hair aside and placed a kiss on her neck. She shuddered under my touch.

  Holy hell, she was stunning, and so responsive to me.

  My kisses increased in fervor as I endeavored to cover every inch of her exposed skin from the base of her neck to her jaw. I reached around and unbuttoned her blouse, my fingers slipping against the silky fabric. I needed more space, more of her.

  She threw her head back, her mouth reaching for me. Blinded by lust, I wrestled with her shirt, only to find another layer of fabric covering her.

  What the...?

  I pulled away, my eyes popping open.

  "What?" She twisted toward me, her neck long as a swan's.

  Any other time, I might have found the lace bustier covering her breasts sexy as hell, but now it was just another layer in the way of me getting to the real her underneath. I slid off the bed, squinting at the fabric. The only light filtered in from the hall and I couldn't see how it all worked.

  "I want to see you. I want to see all of you. Come here." I took her hand in mine and pulled her from the bed.

  "Why don't we just stay in the bedroom?"

  "Because I want more."

  "You've never needed that before." Alice hung back, putting up surprising resistance.

  "Things change." I pulled her in for a kiss, her blouse fluttering around us, the lace of her bustier rough under the tips of my fingers. Right there in the hallway, I pushed the blouse over her shoulders and let it drop to the ground. I twisted her around, moving my hands all over her back. "How the hell do you get this thing off?"

  "There are little hooks. But—"

  "Shh." I placed a kiss on her shoulder. "I know you're self-conscious, but you have no reason to be. Look at me."

  She twisted around, peering up at me through darkened lashes. "I don't know who told you weren't beautiful or how that idea implanted in your head, but Alice, if I had to create the perfect woman it would be you."

  "You haven't seen me yet."

  "Show me."

  Alice swallowed. She was struggling with something today beyond what she usually struggled with. I wouldn't force it out of her. She would tell me in her own time. That was what people in healthy relationships did. Or so I'd heard. She reached behind her and unhooked some invisible clasp. "Can you help me?"

  "Of course," I said. I twisted her and found the clasps and unhooked them, one by one. As I reached the bottom, I let my fingers trail over her back. She shivered. When she was finally free, it didn't fall.

  "Let me see you," I said.

  She turned to me, holding the bustier up to her breasts. Then, she let it fall. Her shoulders collapsed as soon as she did, as if she was trying to hide herself. I crossed to her and placed my fingers on her shoulder blades and pushed them back so she stood as I was accustomed to her standing. With confidence. She hadn't yet met my eyes. I stepped back and regarded her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Ever. Her nipples puckered in the cool air. Across her navel a piece of skin darkened, plunging down past her waistline.

  "You're beautiful," I said.

  Alice's cheeks reddened, visible through her foundation. "It's ugly," she said, gesturing at the mark.

  I closed my eyes. "Who told you that?"

  Alice shrugged. "No one needed to tell me."

  Oh, Alice. "Take off your skirt."

  "No."

  I kept my gaze on Alice, attempting to show her she wasn't as horrific as she thought she was. Alice, stubborn woman, didn't move a muscle to do as I asked.

  I strolled to her, keeping hold of her gaze, until I reached her and knelt in front of her. I dug my fingers into her hips and brought my lips to the mark on her skin. "It looks like the tip of a butterfly wing," I said, tracing the edges with the tip of my finger. "I love it."

  Alice's hands rested on my shoulders. She said nothing. Her skin was dimpling with the cold. I reached around her waist and found the zipper holding up her skirt.

  "Wait, please," she said. "I'm not ready. What about you? Why don't we slow this way down? I think we're taking it too fast. I think—"

  As she spoke I stood and caught her lips in mine, cutting off her rambling. If she really wanted me to stop, I would have stopped, but she didn't really want that. She wanted to keep me away from her birthmark. Why? It was just a difference of a few shades in the pigment of her skin.

  Her tongue plunged into my mouth, her nimble fingers running down the buttons on my shirt. She tasted of berry lip gloss and—oh Lord—she was an incredible kisser. Her tongue in my mouth filled me with a desire, a yearning I'd never felt with anyone else. I wanted to be filled with more of her, more.

  I pulled back long enough for her to tug my sports bra overhead. Then, I crashed into her. I wanted to feel every inch of her against me. I kissed down to her breasts, taking one of her nipples into my mouth, then the other. She let out a moan, digging her fingernails into my back.

  My fingers drifted down to the skirt again, but Alice lifted my arms and secured my hands over her breasts. Her breasts filled my hands and then some and she moaned again. I let one hand drop down to her skirt, but she grabbed it and lifted it again, this time not so gently. I took my other hand away and dropped it again.

  Alice grabbed both of my wrists and, with a strength I'd seen in her rugby playing but since forgotten, drove me against the wall. She pressed her body against mine, pinning me. The warmth of her breasts met mine, the momentary mindlessness of the pleasure distracted me just enough—

  Then her knee lifted between my legs.

  Holy shit, this woman. This infuriating woman.

  She had gained too much c
ontrol, and I hadn't even seen her. I wrestled one hand away from her grip and shoved it up her skirt, running it over her flexed thigh muscles. Even her thighs were sexy—why did she hide them under all this clothing?

  I pulled away and in one swift movement shoved her back. "Why won't you let me see the rest of you?"

  Her shoulder lifted, her hands covering the mark on her stomach. "Leaving a little mystery for later."

  "Alice, don't mess with me. Come on."

  She lifted her chin and stormed into the room next door—her room as I'd come to think of it. I stifled a groan and followed her in.

  She sat cross-legged on the bed, her back facing me and ramrod straight. What was I supposed to say to make this right? I hated that I had little control over her reaction. I hated that I couldn't tell when she was going to take something too seriously. I had to be careful here—and I hated that, too, because all I wanted to do was bury my face between her legs and taste her.

  A constellation of moles dotted her back. I joined her on the bed, running my fingers lightly over her skin. I set my chin on her shoulder. "What do you think I'm going to say if I see all of you?"

  "It's not so much what you say, but what you'll think."

  "What, do you have the shape of Bill Nye the Science Guy on your vag? Because that's the only thing that would make me find you unsexy." As I spoke, I dug my fingers into her shoulders.

  "Don't joke," she said and moaned.

  "Seriously. There is nothing you could reveal that would make you think you weren't the sexiest woman in the world right now. "Nothing. Except... do you have crabs?"

  "No."

  "Chlamydia?"

  "No." Alice chuckled.

  "Any other STIs?"

  "No." Alice twisted toward me. "You're making this a joke."

  "Because it's not as serious as you think."

  "My parents," she blurted out. "They made me cover it. And my last girlfriend broke up with me after she saw it."

  "Good thing they aren't here. And they're all idiots." I placed a finger under her chin and dragged her forward until her lips met mine. I ran my thumbs over her cheeks. Her damn parents. What was it with them? It was hard enough to grow up as a girl without the extra criticism from the people who were supposed to be your biggest advocates.

  Alice pulled away. "Promise you won't laugh?"

  "I promise."

  She reached behind her. The zipper cracked through the air of the otherwise quiet house. She stood, dropped her skirt and her underwear, and revealed one of the most beautiful bodies I had ever seen.

  ...

  ALICE

  We orgasmed three times in three different rooms. If a friend had told me about a similar situation and mentioned she had three simultaneous orgasms in a night, I wouldn't have believed her. But that's what happened. Lena hadn't run when she'd seen me and that, plus the beauty of her body, drove me wild.

  I had forgotten the conversation with my parents earlier that night. I was good at pushing things down, pushing them away until I could deal with them or they disappeared.

  But as we settled into bed, stopping for a while, the reality of our situation descended on me. I told them I would have the shop ready for them when they arrived, that I had all these systems of donation in place. In reality, I was nowhere near that. I had three weeks to get it all ready, three weeks to make it perfect. Three weeks.

  I tapped Lena on the shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Do you think we could talk about something for a minute?"

  Lena propped her elbow up and faced me. Her small breasts barely moved as she did.

  As I tugged up the blankets to cover myself, Lena intercepted me and set her hand on my breast. "I'll keep you warm," she whispered.

  I took in a long shaky breath, trying to figure out where to start, considering tossing it out the window in favor of another orgasm. Lena had been open with me, though, so she deserved as much in return. "My parents are missionaries. They're in Ethiopia right now building a well or something. They've been gone for most of my life since I was in high school."

  "Wow," Lena said, drawing a finger around my nipple. "That must have been difficult for you."

  I dragged my focus back from the quicksand temptation of pleasure. "It's only been difficult when they're home. Aunt Helen and I have a good life, a wonderful routine. My parents don't even really know me for who I am. I've often felt they care more about the people out there than about their own family—me."

  Lena stopped swirling around my nipples and set a hand on my breast again. Warmth. Calm. "I'm sorry about that. I know how you feel. My family didn't even want me. They gave me up for adoption."

  "I'm so sorry," I said,

  "No." Lena squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want to make this about me. Not now. Go on."

  How easy it was to talk about someone else's problems. How difficult to speak of my own. I took in a long breath and started speaking before I could doubt myself. "They're coming here for Christmas."

  "Oh?" Lena said.

  "Yeah. And I was wondering... when do you think you're going home?"

  Lena stiffened.

  Shit. "I don't mean it like that. I mean, you can stay as long as you like, but this is my house after all and it may be good for you to get back to your business."

  Lena flopped onto her back and pushed her palm into her forehead. "Wait a second. Before we get all tumbled up in this mess and before I get all into my head. Can we rewind? I have something to ask you."

  "Of course. Go right ahead."

  Lena sat up, leaning against the backing of the bed. "I want to make a go of this with you."

  I sat up, too. "Oh?"

  "Yeah. I can do my business anywhere, and with the money from all the stuff you sold we should be all set."

  The idea was almost too much for me to comprehend. When she'd brought it up at Thanksgiving I'd tucked it away. Here it was again. "What about your home in San Francisco? Don't you have a life there? I don't want you to give all that up for me."

  Lena took my hands. "I want to give this a chance. It's the first time I've really felt this way with someone."

  "Oh." There was so much going on in my mind I couldn't sort it out.

  "I was thinking," Lena said, with less confidence, I noted, "I could go shut down the offices, tie up loose ends and be back around Christmas. I could meet your family then. Your parents, I mean."

  "Ah," I said.

  Lena squeezed my fingers. "You're killing me, here. What are you thinking?"

  I pulled my hand away and ran it over my face. "What if you came back after Christmas? We could do New Year's Eve... First Night... in Boston or something like that."

  "Sure, but..." Lena paused.

  In her pause, I pulled my hands away from my face.

  I waited as the realization dawned on her. "You don't want your parents to meet me."

  "It's not that. I don't want you to meet them. Not so early in our relationship."

  Lena swiped at the covers, pushing them aside. She left the room. I stumbled after her, attempting to bring the sheets with me. They stuck between the mattress and the box spring and I left them there and followed her, naked, out into the hall and to the bathroom.

  "Come on, Lena," I said, catching her as she put on her underwear. "You weren't even here a week ago. I'm only asking for an extra week."

  "You're asking me not to meet your parents."

  "It's not... it's not you. It's them. They would—"

  "What? Judge me? For what? I'm a perfectly respectable match for their daughter. I'm smart. I'm—"

  "Gay. You're gay."

  Lena stopped, her blouse in hand and blinked.

  "My parents don't know I prefer women."

  "That you're a lesbian."

  "Right."

  Lena sunk down onto the toilet behind her. She sighed. "I thought I had left all this back in my teenage years."

  "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into it. It's just the timing. I told them I'd
have the house done by the time they arrived. They've never approved of me and I don't need to give them another reason."

  "I could stay and help you," Lena said. "I could help you with the house and then I could help you tell them."

  "I'd rather just wait. I mean, why is it so important that we tell them now? This is so new, and they're barely around. They don't really need to know."

  Lena closed her eyes and sighed. "Why don't we go back to bed?"

  I nodded, racking my brain for something to say to make this right. With all the work I had to do to prepare, I wasn't sure I could keep this relationship going at the same time. I wanted Lena—I really did, but the timing couldn't be worse.

  We walked back to bed, treading the same path we had hours before, except this time, deflated. Now I'd said it out loud, my parent's arrival was real. And it knotted my stomach like nothing else.

  I curled in on myself as we got back into bed, silently. I listened for Lena's breathing. She wasn't asleep, and our conversation felt unfinished.

  "So, you'll go? Where will you stay?"

  "I don't know," she said.

  "Maybe we should just keep it casual. Maybe you were right."

  Outside my window, the bared branches of the trees blew in the wind, crossing one another. I watched them, trying not to think of my parents, trying every relaxation tactic I knew to catch the elusive sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  LENA

  As I lay beside Alice that night, my mind turned slippery as a road after a snowstorm. Or as a fucking downhill skier on a mountain. It slid right back down to that dark place. At first, I took Alice's comment at face value. She didn't want to introduce me to her parents if she didn't have to. But for some reason her last comment before falling silent—so you'll go... maybe we should keep it casual—twisted my gut.

  I didn't want to go. I wanted to stay in this house with her, to help her, but that's not what she wanted. This whole time I was certain she was the one who was more in love with me. I liked it better that way. That way I was safe. Now I'd opened myself up to her, now I'd told her my deepest secrets, and she had stepped all over them. I'd moved toward commitment, essentially offering to give up my life in San Francisco for her, and she'd jumped away from it.