Side Order of Love

by Unknown

“Oh, God, Torrie,” Grace whimpered urgently. “If you don’t slow down a little—”

  Torrie chuckled against Grace’s throat, her lips vibrating against her skin. “Don’t worry. I don’t want you coming yet.”

  “You don’t?” Grace teased, her breath still coming in short bursts as Torrie’s hand stilled against her. She wanted Torrie so badly, it hurt.

  Torrie smiled cockily at her. “When you do come, it won’t be by accident.”

  Grace was feverish with desire. She didn’t want to be teased and toyed with all night. “Torrie, I don’t think I can stand much more.”

  Torrie laughed, then studied Grace with growing seriousness. “Oh, Grace.” Her voice was low and husky and thick with desire. “I want to make sweet love to you all night long. I want to love every inch of you over and over again. The way you deserve to be made love to. I want to feel you and taste you everywhere.”

  Grace’s answer died on a moan as she kissed Torrie impatiently, even as tears pooled in her eyes.

  “Come upstairs with me,” Torrie said between kisses.

  “Yes.”

  Up in Torrie’s room, she let Torrie peel her cotton shirt over her head, and she thrilled at how Torrie’s eyes eagerly and approvingly roamed over her naked chest, hesitating on her breasts like she was either memorizing them or planning everything she would do to them. It was the way she imagined Torrie surveyed a golf course—looking for the most direct, successful line, imagining the setup, the approach.

  Torrie licked her lips. “Are you sure, Grace?”

  Grace nodded, never taking her eyes off Torrie’s face. She was more than sure she wanted Torrie to touch her inside and out, to love her body with tenderness and passion and even a bit of savagery. She wanted to both conquer and be conquered tonight in the very capable, caring arms of Torrie. As for the rest…as for her heart and Torrie’s, well, those things would have to reveal themselves later. Right now her body cried out for solitary attention.

  Torrie dropped to her knees, unzipped Grace’s shorts, then slowly pulled them down her hips, her thighs, past her calves. Grace kicked them away. Torrie thumbed her thin cotton bikini briefs around the waistband, caressed her ass with her spanned fingers, then slid the panties down until they were around Grace’s ankles.

  Torrie’s sharp intake of breath tickled her thighs. When she glanced down, Torrie was looking at her reverently, loving her body with her eyes.

  “Oh, Torrie,” Grace said shakily, her knees trembling and weak. Yes. She knew it would be like this with Torrie. So sweet.

  Torrie stood, snaked her arm around Grace’s waist and guided her to the double bed. “You are so beautiful, Grace. Even more beautiful than I imagined. And believe me, I spent lots of time imagining.”

  Grace laughed as they lay down side by side, facing each other. She was glad her body wasn’t a disappointment to Torrie, who had probably made love to many young, nubile women over the years. She too had spent many moments imagining what Torrie looked like naked, though she already could tell she would not be disappointed.

  “You,” Grace whispered. “I want your clothes off. I want to see you.”

  Torrie’s grin was playful. She began pulling at her shirt, Grace helping her with her injured side. She left her tight, black boxer briefs on.

  “Oh. My. God.” Grace sucked in her breath, enthusiastically scrutinizing the tight, flinching muscles of Torrie’s arms and shoulders and neck, the four-pack that was her stomach. Her breasts were small and firm, but curved gently to hardened, prominent nipples. She was like a sculpted goddess, and Grace felt suddenly unworthy. Every year of their age difference amplified her doubts now and made her hesitate a little.

  Torrie must have sensed her insecurity. She began stroking Grace’s face lovingly, and her eyes were a warm blue, like a hot, summer sky. “Don’t be afraid, Grace.”

  Grace wanted to laugh. Afraid? What, like she was a virgin and this was her first time? What did Torrie mean, don’t be afraid? And then it struck her that she was a little afraid. For the first time in…she couldn’t even remember when, for she’d never been nervous like this with Aly. She couldn’t even name what exactly she was afraid of. Complications? Someone getting hurt feelings? Of being inadequate? Of being disappointed? All of the above?

  “Grace,” Torrie whispered against her cheek, and she loved how her name sounded on Torrie’s lips. “Grace. I want you so much.”

  She closed her eyes against the little kisses on her jaw and throat, then the side of her neck, the tip of her shoulder. Torrie was moving against her, half on top of her, her hips pressing against Grace’s, her leg intertwining with Grace’s. Torrie’s hand gently cupped her breast, stroking the soft underside of it, and any doubts Grace had were incinerated in the heat of their mutual desire.

  “I want you, Torrie.” Grace’s throat was sandpaper, and she could hardly speak around her rampaging desire. As Torrie’s fingers circled and stroked the stiff peak of her nipple, Grace thought how close she was to demanding Torrie enter her and answer her throbbing wetness with quick, full thrusts. Oh, how she wanted to be fucked. Fucked hard and fucked long by those strong hands, by that hard body.

  Torrie’s soft, wet mouth enveloped her nipple, gently sucking, lightly stroking. And then it was the other breast, and Grace arched up and deeper into Torrie’s mouth. Oh, yes, it would be slow and deep and sweet with Torrie, not fast and hard and shallow, and Grace felt a whole new level of yearning inside. She was wetter than she had ever been for anyone and she pushed her hips against Torrie, her pelvis making gentle pleas.

  “My, my.” Torrie laughed, disengaging from a breast. “Are you forgetting we have all night?”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  Torrie laughed so hard, her body shook against Grace’s, and Grace had the fleeting worry that they might both fall off the bed. “I wasn’t even trying to be funny,” Grace muttered.

  Torrie kissed her hard on the mouth, her body still trembling with laughter. “Oh, Grace. You are so precious. God, I love you!”

  Grace could only hear her own pounding heart as the rest of her body stilled. A sob rose quickly in her throat. She wished Torrie hadn’t said those three words. They were the words that could have made this moment so perfect. Should have made this moment so perfect. “Oh, Torrie. Please don’t.”

  Torrie smiled so benevolently that Grace was suddenly ashamed of herself and her inability to give herself fully to Torrie, who wanted nothing more than to love her.

  “I’m sorry,” Grace croaked, knowing full well the apology would do nothing to make her feel better.

  “Don’t be,” Torrie soothed, a hand reaching down to stroke Grace’s thigh. “I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s true that I love you, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  In their three years together, Grace could count on one hand the number of times Aly had told her she loved her, and yet here was Torrie, whom she’d just met a little more than two weeks ago, professing her love for her. God, it was so easy for Torrie. And not just saying it, but delivering it with every stroke and every kiss. Grace had never been so wanted before. So cherished.

  “No,” Grace said, tears beginning to brim and spill over. As much as she ached for not being able to reciprocate, there was unmistakable joy in her heart too, as if Torrie’s words had dislodged something heavy and cloying and poisonous in her. “Don’t ever apologize for saying that. It’s not your fault.”

  Torrie moved fully on top of Grace and began licking the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

  Grace smiled through her tears. “Do you know how long it’s been since a woman has made me cry in a good way?”

  Torrie shook her head and nuzzled Grace. “I’d rather make you scream.”

  Her breath left her lungs as Torrie’s thigh began pushing against her in gentle pulses. The long, bulky muscles were hard and thick, and Grace clenched harder against them, incr
easing the pressure on her swollen, throbbing clitoris with her own answering thrusts. Her arms tightened around Torrie’s strong back, and she struggled to remember which shoulder she should be careful with, until she spotted the angry slash of a scar. Her thoughts began to muddy even as her senses sharpened.

  “You feel so good, Grace,” Torrie said as she rocked against Grace, increasing the pace and pressure until they were both gasping for breath.

  “Ohhh,” Grace cried out, her eyes slamming shut against her pounding heart and rushing blood. She would need release. Soon.

  “It’s okay, baby.”

  Torrie’s mouth moved to her breast again, and Grace bit her bottom lip to stifle another cry. Torrie’s hand moved between them and Grace released a little to make room. She hoped, prayed, for Torrie to touch her now, for her fingers to relieve the burning ache that had already begun to consume her.

  “I want to touch you, Grace.”

  “Oh, God. Yes. Please, Torrie.”

  Fingers danced over her slick, soft folds, tracing little patterns, flicking and stroking, tickling and rubbing, and it was driving Grace wild. She lifted her hips and pushed greedily into Torrie’s fingers, trying to capture them, control them, but they were fast and light and moved to their own time. Her vision swam, her thoughts swirling incoherently but for one single, razor-like one—Torrie making her come. A palm pressed against her firmly and Grace opened her legs wider, inviting more from Torrie.

  “Does that feel good?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Grace gasped.

  A finger slipped inside her and Grace cried out.

  “God, you’re so wet, Grace.”

  “You make me wet, Torrie. Sooo wet.” Grace feared she might slide right out from under her. Her chest heaved as she willed Torrie to take her higher and higher, further and further, and Torrie did, slipping a second finger in. They pumped together in a perfect, furious union of hips meeting thrusting fingers. When Torrie’s other hand found her hardened clitoris, the onslaught of orgasm built to a painfully sweet climax, rushing toward her before crashing relentlessly onto her shores in endless, delicious waves. She cried Torrie’s name as she pushed one last time against her hand, drawing every last bit of pleasure from her thrusts.

  Torrie collapsed against her and they rolled until Grace was on top, her face hot and her breath still short.

  “Torrie, that was amazing.”

  Torrie’s eyes glinted with pleasure. She looked both sated and hungry at the same time. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  Grace giggled, feeling more alive than she had in years, and she credited it to the fact that this young, beautiful jock was looking at her like she wanted to eat her in one bite. And probably could. It was incredibly intoxicating. She began planting little kisses and licks on Torrie’s throat, trying to tickle. She finally succeeded when she went after Torrie’s stomach.

  “Okay, that is so not fair,” Torrie gasped.

  “What?” Grace feigned innocence.

  “Tickling is definitely hitting below the belt.”

  “You think so, do you?” Grace had her right where she wanted her. Her hand slid down to Torrie’s cotton boxer briefs, and she cupped her firmly.

  “Ohh!” Torrie moaned. “Okay, I was wrong. Oh, Jesus. Now that is definitely—”

  “Below the belt?” Grace chimed wickedly.

  “Yeah.” Torrie grabbed Grace by the wrist. “You don’t know what I do to naughty girls who tease.”

  Grace’s eyebrows rose in challenge. “Make them your sex slave, I hope.”

  “How’d you guess?” Torrie plunged Grace’s hands beneath the waistband of her briefs.

  What greeted Grace there made her moan in pleasure and subconsciously lick her lips. Torrie was already so wet and swollen. “Mmmm, I like this, Torrie.”

  “Me too,” Torrie whispered, her voice strained and her eyes foggy and half-lidded. “I’m so turned on, I had to stop myself from coming when you did.” She moaned as Grace’s hand moved rhythmically on her. “God, you’re so beautiful when you come, Grace.”

  Grace kissed her, exploring Torrie’s lips with her tongue and wondering what they would feel like on her. Down there. Oh, God, I’m turned on again. Would she not be able to get enough of this woman?

  Torrie moved harder against her, her chest rapidly rising and falling. Grace knew Torrie was close to coming as she worked her, increasing the pace.

  “I want to look at you when I come,” Torrie breathed.

  Grace smiled and held Torrie’s feverish gaze as Torrie bucked a final time and came against her hand with a guttural cry. It was an incredible high to know she’d just given her such pleasure, and Grace kissed her again as the last tiny strains of orgasm ebbed.

  “You’re so damn beautiful, Grace,” Torrie said between kisses, holding Grace in the crook of her good shoulder. “I don’t know how I ever got so lucky.”

  “You,” Grace said, “are good for my ego, Torrie Cannon.”

  “It’s not your ego I care about, Grace Wellwood. Well, it is, but everything else too.” She tenderly smoothed a lock of hair behind Grace’s ear.

  “Do you think your aunt would mind me being here like this?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Torrie laughed deeply. “She’d love it. She’s my biggest competition for you.”

  “She is not.” Grace knew Torrie was just teasing her, but she didn’t want to think about anyone else but the two of them right now. “Torrie.” Grace could hardly catch her breath when she looked at Torrie. Especially at the way she looked back at her, so beautiful and sure of herself and exuding lust. And so much more. “You’re so incredibly special. Do you know that?”

  Torrie shrugged lightly, but she was beaming like she’d just won the biggest golf trophy ever. “It’s you that makes me feel that way.”

  Grace wanted so badly to be able to love Torrie, to throw everything and everyone that had come before to the wind and let it scatter and be carried off forever. There were obstacles, for sure, not the least of which were their respective careers. And then. Of course, there was Grace’s bruised heart that was still painfully shut. However much she wanted to let Torrie in, to take a chance again, something held her back. It was too soon, and she was too stubborn and afraid to completely relent. She just hoped Torrie understood.

  “Torrie,” Grace began slowly. “I can’t make you any promises.”

  “I know.” Torrie stroked Grace’s face, and her touch was both electrifying and reassuring.

  “I don’t know what happens next.” Grace swallowed. “If anything.”

  Torrie’s smile was wistful, an indication that she was resigned to Grace’s reticence. “I know. But I love you, Grace. And I’ll wait for you for as long as you need.”

  Could love really be this simple? This uncomplicated? Grace doubted it, though it would be wonderful to believe, at least for a little while, that Torrie’s love was enough for both of them—just as she’d once fooled herself that her love for Aly was enough to sustain the relationship.

  Grace’s heart skipped at least two beats. “But I don’t—”

  Torrie placed a finger over Grace’s lips. “I know, Grace. Just love me now. Tonight. With your body.”

  Grace could only nod dumbly, afraid her voice would crack if she tried to speak again.

  “Can you do that?” Torrie asked, smiling like she hadn’t any other care in the world.

  Grace nodded again.

  “Good.” Torrie was already sliding down the bed, sliding alongside Grace, planting little kisses on her stomach as she brushed past.

  Torrie positioned herself between Grace’s legs, sliding lower and lower.

  Oh, God, she’s going to … Grace grew unbearably wet again. She thrummed with this new round of desire, the tiny jolts shooting all the way down to her toes and back up to her chest. The thought of Torrie’s mouth on her was almost too much. She was already on the edge, mere moments away.

  “You’re so incredibly beautiful,” To
rrie mumbled, staring at Grace’s secret flesh, inhaling deeply, grinning wolfishly like a big plate of steak and potatoes had just been placed in front of her. She even licked her lips like an animal about to devour its prey, and Grace melted.

  She cried out at the first touch of Torrie’s tongue.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Catie and Trish looked every bit as exhausted and sexually hungover the next morning as Torrie and Grace. No one had to speak of it. They all had a pretty good idea about what had transpired at the two houses in the night.

  The coffeemaker was working overtime as the two chefs prepared omelets and crisped up leftover hashed potatoes, yawning and stifling smiles while they worked.

  “You look pretty happy this morning.” Trish shot Grace an approving look over the stove.

  Smugly, Grace replied, “I could say the same about you.”

  Trish shrugged, but she looked absurdly happy.

  “Was it good?” Grace couldn’t resist the urge to tease her, especially since her cheeks were turning a nice shade of pink.

  Trish flipped the omelet, trying to look unconcerned. When she finally beamed at Grace, it could have melted a glacier.“Better than ever. How was Torrie?”

  Grace was still hot liquid inside at the thought of what they’d done most of the night. They’d barely slept, so eager were they to touch and taste one another, over and over again. Even in the shower this morning, Torrie had snuggled in behind her, pressed her hard body against her while playing with her breasts. It was like they couldn’t get enough of each other, and Grace couldn’t help but make the inevitable comparisons with Aly. No, it had never been this consuming with Aly. This intense.

  “Well?” Trish pressed.

  Grace sparked with a new round of desire, even though her body was still exhausted and sore. “It was incredible,” she said quietly, reflectively.

  “Well, good. I’m glad for you, Grace. I really am.”

  “Thanks.” Grace didn’t want to talk about the wider implications yet of what sex with Torrie meant. “What about you. Are you okay? I mean, really?”

  Trish leaned against the counter, her arms folded over her chest. She looked happy. “Yeah, I am. Catie’s wonderful.”