I responded to her touch with a sigh and shiver. "I'm not usually so—"
"Don't," she said quickly. "It's okay to be whatever it is you need and want."
I lost myself in kissing the freckles that spilled across her shoulders and chest. As a young teen, with singular abandon, I'd learned all the clinical words for where Jane was touching me. Some were sexy, like vulva. It rolled through my mouth, sounding and feeling like inviting velvet. I liked mons, with a moaning M to begin it. Her hand was cupping me there and slipping down the slope. She paused to smile as I gasped.
"I think that's the best part, too. It's all the best part."
"When you do that I am so glad to be female—" I arched my back as her fingers slid over my clit. Clit was sexy to me, clitoris was
not. Clit, short and sharp, like the prickles that jolted through my body, puckering my nipples and tingling down my thighs.
"I take it you like that?"
"Can't you tell?"
"Yes, I can tell. Does my talking distract you?"
"No—I like that, too."
Her voice a low purr, she brushed her lips to mine as she said, "I want to fuck you."
Her words and the firm pressure on my clit made my body jerk. "Yes. Please." I thought of Kylie for the last time, hoping she had found her way to a moment like this. "Yes, please."
Her fingers explored my vulva, parting folds and finding wet heat. "Right now, or shall I wait a little while? This is very fun."
"Now," I whispered. Her fingers slipped through my folds again and my legs quivered in response.
"Are you sure? I can do this for a very long time." One finger almost slipped inside, but withdrew.
"Please, now." My hips rose in frantic response to another brush of her finger near my opening.
She laughed, low and sexy, and her mouth captured mine as a lone finger tipped inward. I pushed myself down, but she moved her hand, too, keeping me hanging in the frustrating, arousing space of almost.
"You do want this, don't you?"
"I won't beg." I gritted my teeth to hold back a hoarse, needy plea. "Don't tease me."
She kissed me again and moaned, and I felt her fingers fill me. Her thumb pressed down firmly on my clit and I arched into her next push. My world was pulsing to the movement of her hand. The light went and there was a hammering in my ears that let in only her gasps and my sharp cries. I was a wound coil, ever tightened by her body on mine. I tried for short, easy words like coming and more, but they were caught behind my bared teeth.
Her fingertips danced on the nerve cluster I could no longer coherently name, high inside me. My legs spasmed, my arms went to jelly and my nipples tightened to hard, red aches. There were no words in me that would pass my lips now. I always lost them even as my mind burned with their red afterimage. Don't stop. Fuck me. Please don't stop.
I felt as if I was screaming, loud, long, fierce. Neighbors would think I was dying. Some might know I was in the throes of life. My body shook as I screamed inside but I knew, as always, I did not make a sound.
It was a long journey back to my body, hand over hand climbing up from depths—or down from heights, I could never tell. I did not want to sleep, not yet. Sound came back to me slowly.
"...incredible. The way you moved."
I swallowed, not yet certain I could speak. I made a sound and I don't know what Jane thought I said, but she kissed me, hard and furious, then her hands gripped my arms as she turned me over.
"You can do that again. I can feel you still clenching down on my hand. I know you can." Her voice was heavy with passion as she pulled me to my hands and knees. She did not tease me, but pushed inside me before I could manage a yes or a no. I had always rested after that kind of orgasm and for a moment I almost struggled to escape her grasp. But the stunning truth that she was right—I could go that high, that hard again—spun me back into that space without words, beyond where light could reach me. The only sound I heard was her hand fucking me.
I broke into a sweat and felt it chill on my hot skin. That another woman could do this to me, another woman could know how to get me to this place—every time was more than the last. I was down on my elbows, my head on the sheets between my forearms. My breath came in great gasps. I wanted to beg her never to stop. I wanted to groan and scream. The harder she fucked me, the quieter I became. My body did all the talking.
Enough time passed to form the thought that I had never taken this long. I wanted to come so that the words trapped in my body could flow again. Frustration tightened my muscles around her fingers. Even though my eyes were open all I could see now was black streaked with yellow.
More yellow when I felt her other hand knotting into my hair. She pulled me up to my hands again and into my silence she hoarsely said, "This is how you want to fuck, we'll do it all night!"
More yellow, pushing away the black. When her hand let go of my hair to grasp one nipple just as fiercely, I ached to cry out. My nerves were dancing with fire like sunlight. Everything felt so good, but the last bit of the arc toward climax eluded me. I was too hot, too high.
And then I felt the cool whisper of her breath on my spine, and the hand at my nipple let go, instead smoothing over my chest and stomach. Gentle, sweet even. Her touch brought a flush of emotions and my head jerked up. She fucked me hard, but touched me soft. It was soft that brought my shivering release. She moaned as I came on her hand. Crumpling to the sheets, I found words at last, a jumble of them. "So good... just like that... how did you know... more... everything..."
"Oh, baby," she murmured as she collapsed next to me. "Baby, you are very, very fun to fuck."
My body was melting into the bed. I was glad she'd found it fun, but fun was not the first word I would have chosen to describe how I felt. But I could think of nothing better, so I nodded and echoed, "That was fun."
Her hand stroked my shoulder and arm. She pulled me half on top of her so I could rest in her arms. The sound of her heartbeat seemed to push away the last of the black. My senses stirred as my thigh eased between hers and was immediately smeared with wonderful, slippery excitement.
"You can rest a little more," she suggested softly.
I kissed my way from one nipple to the other. "I'm dying to go down on you."
I had the satisfaction of hearing her swallow, hard. "I've wanted that from the first time I kissed you."
A throaty laugh escaped me. "I was hoping you'd get that idea."
Words were no problem for me now. Labia seemed too clinical, as did pubis. In this mood, given what she'd just done to me and what I intended to do to her, only one word worked. I lightly coiled my fingertips in her pubic hair and gazed in hunger at the reddened, wet lips. "Your cunt is beautiful."
"Aren't they all?"
"Indeed," I agreed. "You know, a Valentine's heart shape is nothing like the human heart. Scholars believe that it was originally drawn to represent female genitals."
"Really? I suppose—" She sucked in her breath as I kissed her clit softly. "Oh, yes."
My kiss lingered as her legs spread more for me. "Next time you look at a Valentine's heart you'll see it. You'll smile, seeing vaginas all around you."
"That's all very interesting, but right now I want your mouth doing this." Her hand cupped the back of my head and pulled me in.
Sweet, soaked flesh, soft under my tongue, shuddering when I pulled it into my mouth. My tongue learned every inch of her, each fold, the way bone and skin formed the swooping curve of her cunt that invited me to push inside her. I tasted deeply. Cunt was a word used to wound, to diminish, to make a woman hate that part of her body. Jane was, at that moment, all cunt to me, and she was glorious. I drank and suckled, lapped and buried my face there. How could anyone not love this?
I thrust my tongue into her, then licked up to her clit. She cooed when two fingers went where my tongue had been and I could feel goose bumps rising on her thighs. Her knees rose and her hands lef
t my head to cup her breasts as her chest heaved.
The sweet salty taste of her flooded my mouth, soaked my chin. Laughter bubbled throughout my body, so wonderful was her response and my joy at having brought her to such pleasure.
I rested my head on her thigh for a moment, petting her soaked hair with my hand. "You have a beautiful cunt."
"I'm glad you think so." She sighed deeply. "Come up here and bring the covers with you."
Cool white sheets settled on our bodies and I appreciated the beauty of the curve from her hips to her fingertips as she stretched to turn out the light.
Dark settled around us. Her breathing steadied and I closed my eyes, ignoring the distant beeping, regular and steady. There was a squeak of shoes on linoleum.
The hated voice said, "I wish it was you."
My sudden movement to sit bolt upright dislodged Bast, who clawed my leg through the bedclothes by way of protest.
Heart pounding, I turned on the light. I was in my own bed. My own room. Jane was from long ago. A fantastic night never repeated. Coffee, toast and goodbye in the morning. I'd forgotten the music in the car, at least I thought I had. My recollections of sex were not so precise. I had not realized that when I was close to climax I couldn't even speak.
Hands over my eyes, I didn't even want to begin analyzing why I heard my father's voice mingled into a dream of incredibly hot sex. It was just too damned icky.
I heard the muffled sound of the toilet and realized Kylie had to be awake. She was never up in the middle of the night. I hopped out of bed and discovered my legs were wobbly and my crotch soaked. For a dream, it had been incredibly real.
Kylie was standing next to her bed, looking as if the task of getting into it was more than she could manage.
"How come you're up?"
"A dream woke me." She reached for her flattened pillow.
"I'll do that. You turn around and sit down. Are you okay? Was it a nightmare?"
"No—not scary. Sad." She perched on the edge of the bed as she watched me fluff her pillow and straighten the sheets. "I didn't know," she mumbled.
Bast hopped up and immediately set about kneading herself a place in the covers. "Tell me about it in the morning. Bast is here to see you to sleep."
"Steal my covers, you mean." I helped Kylie lift her legs into the bed, pushing away the comparison of them to how she had been even a year ago. "That cat's a user."
"The cat's a cat. Are you going to be able to sleep or should I get you a pill?"
"A pill. My back."
She dutifully took the small glass of milk and pain pill I brought her a few minutes later. The pill went down and she chased it with several more swallows of milk.
"You'll drop right off," I reassured her. I switched out the light and crossed to her door.
"Hayley?" Her voice sounded pale in the dark.
"What, sweetie?"
"Dad—did he ever say..."
"What?"
"Never mind. In the morning."
"In the morning," I echoed as I quietly shut the door. Shivering with cold I returned to my bed, but sleep was elusive. My hands roamed over my body as I tried to relax, but I know the clock had passed four a.m. before I finally dropped into restless sleep.
Chapter 3
My eyes popped open when the alarm went off. For a moment my weariness was so profound I nearly cried.
The life of a professor has many freedoms, but being able to call in sick without causing a great many people a great deal of stress isn't one of them. My first class was at nine and I could cancel my midday office hours and come home to nap. It was just a matter of getting myself up and moving.
I was just sipping a strong cup of Irish Breakfast tea when there was a quiet knock on the kitchen door. My first reaction was of surprisingly strong pleasure to see Aurora on the step. My second thought was that I was moving around like someone twice my age and my hair looked like Bast had used it for a toy. "Hi. Come in, it's freezing out there."
Her pert nose was red from the frigid air. Bundled from head to toe, she looked frozen. "I've locked myself out of the house."
"Oh, what a pain. I wish I had a key."
"A phone will do it. I'd rather call a locksmith than break a window."
Phone book located, I carried up Kylie's milk and pills. She stirred as I set them down. "Whenever you're ready."
She said something incoherent and I wasn't at all sure she wouldn't go back to sleep. I paused for a moment in the bathroom to rake the brush through my hair, but it was hopeless.
As I walked back into the kitchen I caught Aurora warming her hands on the tea kettle. "How rude of me—please pour yourself a cup. Bagel? Butter or cream cheese?"
"Cream cheese. I've not met any of my other neighbors and didn't want to bang on doors unknown. I'm so glad you're an early riser," she observed as she joined me at the table.
"I could have used a few more hours this morning," I found myself admitting. "Kylie was up for a while."
She gave me a look of intermingled understanding and sympathy. "It must make your frame of reference very short." She warmed her hands over the steam from the cup.
I blinked, then recalled our first conversation. "It does. Temporarily. Kylie is the one with the... without much time."
"My father was very ill the last six months of his life," she said softly. "I know what it's like to care for someone. Raging against the dying of the light yet welcoming it when the pain is bad."
Tears welled in my eyes. If anyone else had presumed to talk to me about how I felt I'd have uttered the classic New Englander brush off, "We'll get by." Instead, I found myself saying, "It's getting hard to keep her comfortable."
"But she wants to be here as long as she can. I understand."
It was clear she did. We sipped companionably until Bast arrived to vet the newcomer. It was, apparently, love at first sight. Bast could not get enough of Aurora's legs, and wrapped herself around them in a display of adoration the likes of which I'd never seen.
"She seems to like you."
"Cats and I usually get along. My old kitty passed away last year and I haven't been adopted by a new one yet." Aurora reached down to scratch Bast with one lazy finger and Bast's purring became a palpable throb in the room. Lucky damn cat.
I heard Kylie's halting step in the hall. There had been a time when her compact, well-muscled body had creaked the flooring and stairs, but she was so slight now that I hadn't even heard her. One of my biggest worries was that she would fall. Moving her bed downstairs would likely happen in a couple of weeks. Given her prognosis, that seemed like a long way in the future.
"I thought I heard a voice." She struggled to the chair I pulled out for her, wrapped up tight in her fleece-lined robe. "Trouble?"
Aurora smiled over her cup of tea. "I locked myself out of my house. I was just going to go for a walk because the sun is shining. I made three trips back inside the house for extra layers, a cap, the really thick gloves, and so on. Last time in I must have set my keys down somewhere."
"Nanook of the North," Kylie said.
"It's pathetic, isn't it? I saw two women go jogging by in nothing but pants and lightweight shirts. I might not ever adapt to the cold."
I set down a mug of milk-doctored tea and a small plate of chopped dates with honey-glazed almonds, Kylie's favorite. "Can I get you some of these? They're delectable."
"I'm already scrounging plenty." Aurora hefted her bagel.
"Here," Kylie said. "Have a taste."
Aurora said something back and they both giggled, but I was too busy watching my sister to listen. She'd dropped one shoulder lower than the other, and one thin hand carefully tucked surprisingly well-brushed hair behind one ear. Her gaze was lowered for a moment, then raised to look sidelong at Aurora as she laughed.
I'd not seen Kylie do that in ages. For a wonderful minute, she glowed with life and sensuality. I mentally added twenty pounds to
her, and the healthy sheen her hair had always had. Flirting with Aurora gave me my sister back for just that moment and I savored it all that I could.
"Actually," Kylie was saying, "I only woke up because I had a bad dream. Not that it was bad, except... it was a dream about things I've never done and wish I had." She glanced at me, then, a question in her eyes, but she didn't voice it.
"Is there still time?" Aurora's acceptance of Kylie's condition contained no false cheer or hope. It was, for me at least, refreshing.
"No. Not that." She opened her eyes meaningfully and I was reminded for some reason of my own explicit dream of last night. "It's too late for some things. Maybe I can still get in skydiving, though."
"No way," I said firmly. "I'd have to go with you and I'm not jumping out of a plane."
"I could find someone else, you know. Not everyone is a 'fraidy cat." Kylie popped another almond into her mouth and chewed with gusto.
"Oh, yeah?"
Aurora interrupted our bickering by saying, "The phone book is right here. We could look up lessons."
"Stop that!" I gave her a meaningful look and she allowed me to put the book out of Kylie's reach. "You'll give her bad ideas."
"Aw, Hayley." Her face alight with laughter Kylie was about to bait me, but a nut slipped out of her fingers. By the time she picked it up off the floor the spell had broken. The light faded and the smile, though still present, lost its glow. If Aurora was aware of the change it did not show in her face. At least not until Kylie had begun the arduous climb up the stairs to bed again and we were alone at the table.
"I imagine your sister never wanted for a date. That's some kind of magnetism she's got."
I shrugged. "She was very popular but didn't go out much. Heaps of friends, not many lovers."
Aurora asked, sounding as if it was almost against her will, "And you?"
Our gaze met and the light in the room seemed to flicker. Aurora's face sizzled in my brain and I realized I was covered in goose bumps. "Not many of either."
Bell, Book and Dyke - New Exploits of Magical Lesbians Page 20
