by Lyn Gardner
“That’s not fair,” Brodie said, taking a step in Kate’s direction. “Before you, that’s who I was.”
“And now?” Kate said, jamming her hands on her hips. “Who are you now, Brodie?”
“Kate, you know how I feel, and it’s been two weeks—”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know we had a schedule,” Kate bellowed, waving her arms about. “Tell me, how long do I have before you go out and fuck a nameless stranger because you haven’t fucked me?”
Brodie’s entire being went tense, and in three long strides, she was standing within inches of Kate. Grabbing her by the arms, Brodie held Kate firmly against the counter.
“I don’t want to fuck you, Kate. I want to love you,” Brodie growled, staring Kate square in the eye. “I want to hold you in my arms and kiss you until we both can’t breathe. I want to touch you—all of you—and discover those places that make you moan. I want to hear you scream my name and beg for more, and I’ll give you more…more than you’ve ever had, more than you’ve ever imagined, more than you’ve ever dreamed possible. I don’t want to fuck you, Kate. I want to make love to you…because I’m in love with you!”
Brodie maintained eye contact for a few more seconds before she released her hold on Kate and stormed from the room.
Kate couldn’t move. She was frozen in place by a declaration spoken with more passion and honesty than she thought possible. The front door slammed, and Kate’s heart began to race. Enough time had been wasted on worrying about what others would do or what others would think. Too many nights had ended in a kiss when Kate had wanted so much more. Falling in love with Brodie was no longer a question. It was a reality.
The sun wasn’t supposed to set for another hour, yet when Brodie marched out of the house, black clouds filled the sky, choking out most of the light. The rain was coming down in sheets, and before she was halfway to her car, Brodie was soaked to the skin. Her khaki trousers had darkened three shades, and the russet hue of her blouse no longer hid the black bra underneath, and Brodie couldn’t have cared less. She welcomed the feel of the cold rain, praying it would cool her anger and ice the frustration pulsing between her legs. She traipsed through the puddles on the walk until, through the slamming of the rain, she heard Kate call to her. Brodie whipped back around, water cascading down her face as she glared at the woman on the porch.
“Brodie,” Kate hollered over the storm. “Please…please come back.”
“Why?” Brodie called out, spreading her arms wide. “Why, Kate? So we can argue some more? So we can be uncomfortable and nervous? Well, you were right, Kate. I don’t do nervous. It’s not who I am!”
“Please come back inside. You’re getting soaked.”
“I don’t care,” Brodie shouted. “I don’t bloody care! Don’t you get that? All I care about is you. All I want is you. All I need is you, but you can’t get past your….your doubt…your insecurity.”
“Yes, I can.”
“No, you can’t!”
“Yes, I can, Brodie,” Kate said, her voice loud enough to invade her neighbor’s homes. “Because I’m in love with you!”
Around them was a storm, dark and loud, and up until that moment, it had matched Brodie’s mood, but when Kate saw the rage drain from Brodie’s face, her mouth gaping as she stood frozen in place, Kate knew she finally had the woman’s undivided attention. A smile touched Kate’s lips. “Now, come back inside…and take what’s yours.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Kate walked into the lounge, and making her way across the room, she waited in front of the fireplace. Even though there was no fire blazing in the hearth, it felt to Kate as if the room was growing warmer with every second that passed. When she heard the front door close, Kate’s center pulsed.
Brodie stood just inside the entry. Her heart was racing, and her mouth had gone dry, and taking a few deep breaths, she ran her fingers through her hair, sending droplets of water everywhere. She barely noticed the puddle at her feet as she kicked off her shoes, and filling her lungs again, Brodie headed into the lounge. “Say it again,” she whispered as she came to stand behind Kate.
“I love you,” Kate said in a breath.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.”
“Say it—”
Kate spun around and stopped Brodie’s words with a kiss. Rough and demanding, lips parted and tongues tasted as their mouths ground together in a hungry show of need that seemed to go on forever.
Brodie showered Kate’s face with kisses before returning to again revel in the sweetness of her mouth, and when she felt Kate’s hand slip under her blouse, a sensual rumble rose in Brodie’s throat. She pulled back slightly, and in Kate’s eyes, Brodie found her answer. There was no fear or doubt. There was only hunger gazing back at her, and as soon as she pulled the ribbed knitted top from Kate’s body and tossed it aside, Kate frantically fumbled with the buttons on Brodie’s blouse.
A flurry of thoughts swirled in Brodie’s mind. She had wanted their first time to be something cherished and remembered and romantic. She had envisioned roses and chocolates, and in a room lit by a hundred candles, while soft music played, they’d move in slow motion, neither willing to risk rushing the moment. But fantasies don’t always play out as imagined, and by the way Kate was kissing her, and by the way Kate was touching her, their first time would not be slow. It would be greedy. It would be wanton. It would be carnal…and it would be now.
As soon as Brodie was free of her blouse, they came together. They blazed trails of kisses down necks and across shoulders, and when their lips met again, so did their tongues. Fingers threaded through hair and breathing grew ragged, and relentless about what they wanted, minutes went by unnoticed until they both had to come up for air.
Brodie licked her lips to replace moisture stolen by Kate, and when their eyes locked, Brodie reached around to unclasp her bra. A moment later, Kate pulled away, and like an invisible sucker punch, the air was driven from Brodie’s lungs. She fisted her hands, prepared to storm out of the house for the last fucking time in her life…and then she saw Kate’s expression. It wasn’t apprehensive, and it wasn’t apologetic. It was quite the opposite.
Kate knew what Brodie was thinking. She could see the shock, fear, and even a hint of anger in her eyes. Like the night in the hostel, Brodie had ignited something in Kate as terrifying as it was bewitching, but unlike that night, Kate’s anxieties had finally taken a back seat to her passion. “Let me,” she said, closing the space between them.
Brodie held her breath when she felt Kate’s fingers work the clasp of her bra and when it loosened, and Kate drew the straps down her arms, Brodie’s knees went weak.
Kate couldn’t help but stare. Brodie’s breasts were full and firm, and with nipples pebbled by desire and tips hardened by want, Kate had never seen anything more beautiful or more sensual in her life. Until Brodie, she had never looked at another woman. She had never wanted to touch another’s breast, or feel the weight of it in her hand, but now Kate’s body sizzled at the possibilities of what the night was going to bring.
Kate placed her hand over Brodie’s heart for only a moment before lowering it to cover her breast. It was warm and soft, and guided by instincts she didn’t know she had, Kate began to caress the bronzed orb. It was amazing. Simply and utterly amazing.
Brodie sucked in a sharp breath. The ache between her legs had become raw and need pulsed from her body, soaking through her knickers in an instant. The intimacy of Kate’s touch had set her on fire, and it was all Brodie could do to force words through her ragged breathing. “Bedroom…where…where is it?”
Kate’s mouth dropped open as she pulled in air. She thought she knew what desire was up until that moment. She thought she knew what it was to crave and covet, to yearn for someone’s touch, their closeness, their body, but this was something new. This had erased all but the most primitive of urges…and this was not going to wait.
“No…here…now,” Kate said between breaths
. “Please, Brodie…here…now.”
In a blink of an eye, Brodie pulled Kate to the sofa, and falling back onto the cushions, as soon as Kate straddled her, Brodie wasted no time in ridding Kate of her bra. She barely had time to admire before Kate’s lips pressed against hers again, and Brodie consumed what she was given, probing with her tongue while she cupped one of Kate’s breasts in her hand.
Kate squeezed her legs against Brodie’s thighs, moaning into the kiss as she felt Brodie’s hand on her breast. The sensual massage was making Kate squirm, and when Brodie rolled the erect tip between her fingers, tugging at it gently as it grew even harder, Kate broke out of the kiss, panting for air. “Oh my…God.”
Kate had only shifted a few inches, but it was enough for Brodie to slip her leg between Kate’s, and as their eyes met, Brodie pressed her thigh against Kate’s center, and Kate’s reaction was immediate. She began to wantonly grind herself against Brodie’s muscled thigh.
Brodie was mesmerized by the feel of Kate rubbing against her leg, and placing her hands on Kate’s waist, she urged her to bend closer. Covering the puckered center of one breast with her mouth, Brodie suckled against it, pulling it into her mouth again and again while she teased and tweaked the other nipple between her fingers. In an instant, Kate’s hands were in Brodie’s hair, holding her firmly against her breast in a silent plea to continue. Brodie stepped up her attack. Torturing both peaks with her fingers and lips, it wasn’t until they were rock hard when she slowly moved her free hand downward.
Kate was beginning to spiral out of control, and when Brodie cupped her sex, a sound, husky and lustful spilled from Kate’s lips a second before she buried her face in Brodie’s neck. The need for release pounded in her core and clenching her inner walls to squelch the pang was no longer working. Kate sat back for a moment, her eyes never leaving Brodie’s as she unsnapped her jeans and drew down the zipper. Taking Brodie’s hand, Kate guided it toward the opened denim. “Touch me,” she whispered, and raising herself on her knees, Kate leaned forward and placed her hands on the cushions behind Brodie’s head. “Please touch me.”
Brodie pushed her hand into the gaping fabric, her fingers slowly traveling through dampened curls until they reached the source of the want now coating Brodie’s skin.
“Oh…Brodie,” Kate said in a breath, her eyes closing as she felt Brodie’s finger slip inside. Kate bowed her head, relishing the feel of one gentle stroke after another, and as Brodie’s plunges grew slightly harder, Kate began to move against the glorious intrusions. The sensation of having Brodie inside of her was like nothing Kate could have imagined. Exquisitely erotic, she was doing to Kate what no one had ever been able to do before. Brodie’s strokes were stirring impulses so natural and primal that Kate reveled in what was building inside of her. Brodie was making Kate want to lose control. She was making her want to surrender to it, need to surrender to it, and opening her eyes, Kate gazed down at Brodie.
For almost a minute, they were still, each peering into the depths of the other’s eyes, connected in a way that no words could define until Brodie began to dip her finger gently into Kate again. “Let it go, Kate,” Brodie said softly. “Do what you want. Do what you need.”
Kate drew in a breath and then slowly began to move against Brodie’s hand again. Over and over, she accepted Brodie’s thrusts, and as they came faster and faster, Kate’s need grew feral. She arched herself into Brodie, lifting her hips to take Brodie’s plunges even deeper inside of her, but it wasn’t until Brodie began rubbing her finger around Kate’s swollen clit, encircling the distended organ again and again, when Kate’s passion crested. Throaty moan after throaty moan slipped from Kate’s lips as endless spasms rocked her from within before she finally slumped against Brodie’s chest, fighting for air.
Brodie smiled into Kate’s dampened hair as she held her close. She kissed her head and gently ran her hand up and down Kate’s back, saying not a word as Kate’s breathing slowly returned to normal.
***
In her early teens, Kate and her girlfriends discovered romance novels, and one summer, they whiled away the hours reading about heroines dressed in gowns with tightly laced bodices and heroes with chiseled features and crotch-driven charm. They tittered in the privacy of their bedrooms, blushing at the descriptions and yearning to be the women in the books. They wanted to feel the waves of passion that would leave them breathless and satisfied, but at seventeen, in the basement of her boyfriend’s home, the only thing Kate had felt was pain and embarrassment. The captain of the football team, he was the one that every girl wanted, but he had chosen Kate. He said he loved her—he lied. She thought she loved him—she was wrong. And so, amidst boxes of old clothes and athletic equipment, on a lumpy, threadbare couch, Kate lost her virginity to a boy who, after all was said and done, scoffed at her inexperience and told her to find someone else to practice with.
It had taken a few years before another man caught Kate’s eye. They dated and laughed. They danced and drank, and when he asked her to spend the night, Kate said yes. He was gentle and caring, and his kisses made her quiver, but trust wasn’t something Kate gave easily. She opened her legs, hoping to experience an orgasm of the magnitude described in gothic romances, but Kate refused to open her mind. Over the next several years, other lovers came and went, a few even managing to extract from her honest murmurs of satisfaction and small climaxes, but afraid of losing her self-control, Kate had always held something back. With them, it was easy. With Brodie, it was impossible.
Kate took a deep breath, and opening her eyes, she smiled at the woman smiling back at her.
“Hi there,” Brodie said, pushing a few strands of hair from Kate’s sweaty brow.
Kate stretched for a kiss, and as she greedily took what she wanted, all Brodie could do was hungrily reply in kind. There wasn’t a nerve in Brodie’s body that wasn’t on fire, and the more Kate kissed her, the more Brodie’s body flamed. In all of Brodie’s fantasies about Kate, a modicum of bashfulness had always existed, but the way Kate was kissing her wasn’t shy. It wasn’t even close.
Kate mimicked what had happened earlier, and placing her leg between Brodie’s, she pressed hard against the woman’s apex. In an instant, Brodie flexed her hips to increase the pressure. Kate cupped a breast, squeezing and kneading it until the tip was pebbled and swollen, while underneath her, Brodie ground herself into Kate’s thigh, rising and falling against it in utter abandon.
For months, Kate’s dreams had been filled with images of this moment, but reality was so much sweeter. She had never imagined Brodie could feel so soft or that her curves would be so sensual. She had no idea that her breasts pressed against Brodie’s would feel so incredible, and the mere sounds of pleasure Brodie was making would take Kate to a place, libertine and free.
Kate pulled out of the embrace and standing, she waited for Brodie to look at her before Kate pushed her jeans down her legs. She didn’t want the feel of denim. She wanted the feel of Brodie.
Brodie swallowed hard. Kate stood before her, her body shimmering in the light. Her breasts heaved with excitement, and the dark triangle between her legs glistened with want. Brown eyes met those of blue, and for a few seconds, the world ceased to exist before Kate broke the silence in a voice, raspy and thick with need. “Take them off,” she said, pointing to Brodie’s trousers. “Take them off now.”
As Brodie unfastened the dampened khakis, she was thankful she had changed into something more forgiving than jeans when soaked by rain. She lifted her bottom, quickly pushing the trousers and knickers from her body, and as she lowered herself back to the sofa, she saw the way Kate was devouring the sight of her nudity. Brodie’s body throbbed, and her words came out in a plea. “I need you.”
Kate wasted no time in returning to Brodie, their bodies becoming one as their legs tangled, and their hands skimmed over heated flesh. Their lips touched again, and their tongues danced again, and when Kate’s hand traveled south, Brodie pulled out of the ki
ss and drew in air as if she was drowning. “Oh…God, yes.”
There was no hesitancy as Kate’s fingers moved across skin as sleek as silk, nor did she stumble when curls weren’t discovered, for she was on a quest. For a split-second, it did feel odd to be in a place foreign yet so familiar as her fingers glided through Brodie’s soaked folds. They were as petal-soft and warm as her own, but that blip in time came and went in the blink of an eye for Kate wasn’t on a mission to discover the unknown. She was on a voyage to grant Brodie the release she so desperately craved.
Ever so slowly, Kate’s finger entered the warmth and wetness of Brodie’s body and captivated by the feel, Kate paused, lost in the sheer bliss of the moment. Brodie was tight and drenched with passion, and as Kate unhurriedly began to stroke, Brodie arched her back.
“Yes. Oh…yes.”
Brodie was so slick with want that Kate’s plunges were effortless, and when Brodie spread her legs, thrusting her pelvis upward to take all Kate wanted to give, Kate didn’t think twice. Slipping another finger inside, she filled Brodie completely.
“Oh…dear…God.”
Just as Brodie had done, Kate varied her lovemaking, sheathing her fingers for a few seconds before circling Brodie’s clit, applying more and more pressure each time she did. Under her, Brodie’s breathing was coming in short, harsh gasps, and Kate knew she was close. Oh so close.
Brodie fisted the cushions of the sofa. Deep inside of her, the inner trembling of her orgasm had begun, and within seconds, the shuddering contractions forced an uninhibited cry of pleasure from her lips. Her body pulsed and then pulsed again, pushing need from her center as spasm after spasm rocked her body, and it wasn’t until the demand for air became too great when Brodie finally filled her lungs again.
Hypnotized by Brodie’s release, it wasn’t until the woman quieted that Kate relaxed by her side and rested her head on Brodie’s breast. She listened as Brodie’s breathing slowed, and as their heart rates returned to normal and sleep began to overtake them again, Brodie whispered, “Say it again.”
