by Nell Stark
I was going to say yes.
Cast Off
Quinn stood just outside the front door of the boathouse, looking out toward the narrow strip of beach between the rocks and the first pier. Frog lounged in the shade of a nearby picnic bench, his strong chest heaving as he panted. It was hot out, and humid.
By this time tomorrow, the regatta will be more than halfway over, she realized. I wonder whether we’ll be winning or losing?
“Go long!” Drew shouted from the shore, hefting a football in his right hand.
Corrie ran into the shallow water, her feet kicking up spray and her ponytail streaming behind her like a comet’s tail. Quinn’s heart thumped painfully at the sight. God, you’re beautiful. She didn’t even try to suppress the thought anymore.
It had been a busy week, especially for Corrie. When they weren’t training, she had been finalizing preparations for the race. Quinn hadn’t seen her much outside of their practice times, and if she hadn’t known just how much Corrie had on her plate, she would have thought Corrie was trying to avoid her.
I’ve had it with her gentle kisses hello and goodbye. All week, Corrie had been kind and tender, even hesitant. A banked fire. But Quinn knew there was live coal in her somewhere, just waiting to flare up as it had the weekend before on Block Island. And she was done waiting.
Drew launched the ball into the air, several feet above Corrie’s head. She charged headlong into the ocean and finally dove for it, her hands closing around the pigskin just before she crashed into the water with a loud splash. Quinn laughed as Corrie reemerged, spluttering. She raised the dripping ball into the air.
“Got it!” she crowed triumphantly. She tossed it back with a sharp flick of her wrist. The spiral was immaculate.
“Ha!” Drew smirked. “Got you all wet.”
But Corrie didn’t reply. She stood quite still, shading her eyes against the sun as she looked up toward the boathouse, and Quinn realized that she had been seen. “Back in a sec,” Quinn heard her say. And then she was jogging away from the ocean, and the sunlight was glinting off the water that clung to her tan skin.
Quinn swallowed hard in sudden nervousness. Rubbing sweaty palms together, she tried out a smile. It probably looked sickly. “Hi,” she said.
“Hey.” Corrie made her voice soft, the way she’d heard Quinn speak to Frog when he had been injured. She leaned forward for a quick kiss, then stepped back. “I’m glad to see you, but what’re you doing here? Day off, remember?” Corrie had insisted that practicing on the day before the regatta was a bad idea.
“I...” Quinn began. Her eyes were drawn to a drop of water that was wending its way between the slight ridges of Corrie’s abdominal muscles—like a mogul skier tracking between the bumps. She cleared her throat and quickly met Corrie’s eyes again, certain that she was blushing. “I figured you’d be swamped, so I came down to help out.” She shrugged. “Guess I was wrong about the swamped thing.”
Corrie stepped forward to wrap her arms around Quinn’s waist. “You’re sweet. Most everyone arrived sometime this morning and are out there practicing. See all the boats on the water?”
Quinn looked out past the mooring field and felt like an idiot. Sure enough, there were dozens of boats circling around the course that she and Corrie had set up yesterday. “I didn’t even notice them,” she said, leaning back in the circle of Corrie’s arms. “Watching you dive after that football distracted me.”
“Did it, now?” Corrie’s voice had suddenly gotten deeper. Quinn loved when that happened—usually after a kiss or two.
She nodded. “Nice catch.”
“Thanks.” Corrie leaned down to kiss her again. It lasted longer this time.
Quinn finally tore herself away and took a deep breath. “So—what’s your evening look like? Is this the calm before the storm, or will you be free?”
“Things will pick up when all those boats want to come in.” Corrie looked out toward the lake again. “But I should be free about an hour after sunset. Why?”
“I was wondering if maybe you wanted to watch a movie tonight.” The words came out on top of each other, all in a rush. “I mean, to rent one. And hang out. But if you need to go home and get some sleep before tomorrow...” She trailed off, suddenly certain that Corrie wouldn’t want that kind of distraction the night before going up against Will and Denise. Nice job, idiot. Now she probably thinks you’re not as serious about tomorrow as you should be!
But Corrie nodded and grinned. “Sounds good.”
“Really?”
“You sound like you don’t believe me.” She nudged Quinn with one shoulder. “Yeah, I think that’d be great—the perfect way to relax before the regatta.”
Quinn was relieved. “Are you in the mood for any movie in particular?”
For a second, Corrie considered suggesting Bound. Oh, it was so tempting, except that it would probably make Quinn uncomfortable. And I did enough of that on the Island to last us a while. She’d been extra cautious all week—careful not to come on too strong, to try to maintain at least some distance. The closer we get, the harder it’ll be on her, Corrie reminded herself for the thousandth time. But oh, it was difficult, so very difficult, especially since Quinn always responded so eagerly to Corrie’s attentions. And now you’ve just agreed to spend two hours with her tonight. What were you thinking?
But she couldn’t renege, not now. And she didn’t really want to, either, truth be told. Corrie blinked, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t yet replied. “Anything is fine with me. You pick it. Just no slasher films, please.” She winked.
“Darn,” Quinn said blandly. “There went all my ideas.” She squeezed Corrie’s hand. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”
Corrie squeezed back. “Thanks for stopping by.” She stood still as Quinn rounded the corner of the boathouse and passed out of sight.
“Jeez,” said Drew, stepping up beside her. “She didn’t even say hello or goodbye to me. You suck for my ego.”
Corrie just rolled her eyes at him, refusing to take the bait. “She did seem a little preoccupied. I hope she’s not too worried about tomorrow.”
“Fuckin’ ankle,” Drew muttered. “Should be me out there with you.”
Corrie patted his shoulder sympathetically and kept her opinion to herself.
*
As it turned out, Quinn showed up at Corrie’s door holding the DVD of Homeward Bound. The irony did not escape Corrie. She kissed Quinn to keep herself from laughing.
“Have you ever seen this one?” Quinn asked as she followed Corrie into the den.
“A long time ago. It’s about the animals who try to find their family, right?”
Quinn bounced onto the couch, one leg tucked up beneath her while the other dangled over the edge. “Yep. Two dogs and a cat. It’s really sweet.”
Corrie smiled at Quinn’s enthusiasm and gestured toward the kitchen. “Something to drink?”
“I’ll just have a soda if you’ve got some.” Corrie nodded and went to the fridge, and Quinn watched her. The white A-shirt and gray mesh shorts made her look sporty, but also soft, somehow. And her hair was down. She almost never had her hair down. It was quite long, and Quinn suddenly wanted to feel it brushing against her throat as Corrie moved over her.
“Oh god,” she muttered, turning away so Corrie wouldn’t be able to see the deep blush she knew had spread across her face. I’m actually going insane. She crouched down near the television and removed the DVD with trembling fingers. Get a grip!
Corrie returned with two cans and popped the tabs while Quinn set up the movie. “So after tomorrow, I’ll stop making you practice for hours on end everyday.” She winked. “Whatever will you do with yourself?”
Quinn wrinkled her nose. “More studying, unfortunately.”
“What’s the exam going to be like?”
“It’s a six-hour ordeal,” she said, taking the soda that Corrie offered. “Three hundred multiple choice questions. Not much room for erro
r.”
“Are you worried about it?” Corrie settled in next to Quinn, so that their knees were only a few inches from touching.
“I am, I guess.” Quinn shrugged and took a sip from her drink. “The sample questions I’ve seen can be pretty tricky. And it costs eight hundred dollars to take the test, so it’s not like I can afford to fail.” Quinn leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table. As she sat back up, she leaned closer to Corrie—close enough that their legs were pressed together along their thighs. “Actually, I’d rather not think about it right now, if you don’t mind.” She gestured toward the television. “You ready for this?”
“Bring on the critters.” Corrie rested her arm along the back of couch.
It was like going to the movies with your crush in middle school. As the opening credits rolled, Quinn leaned back against Corrie’s bicep just a little. Corrie smiled faintly, but stayed still. Five minutes later, her patience was rewarded as Quinn snuggled closer into the curve of her body, moving her head to rest against Corrie’s shoulder.
“This is nice,” said Quinn.
“Mmm-hmm.” Unable to help herself, Corrie shifted slightly onto her right hip so that she could bring her left hand across their bodies to rest on the gentle swell of Quinn’s stomach.
The light blue cotton tee was thin, and Corrie’s palm was very warm. Quinn could feel the heat soaking into her skin, radiating outward from Corrie’s touch like ripples in a pond. And then, Corrie began to move her hand in slow circles, bunching up her shirt slightly as she rubbed Quinn’s stomach.
The motion was soothing, and yet also arousing, especially whenever the edge of Corrie’s thumb brushed against the sliver of bare skin between her shirt and shorts. Quinn no longer paid any attention to the movie. She turned her head toward Corrie’s, breathing in the warm scent of her, even daring to lean closer and press her lips to the skin of her neck. She felt Corrie’s body tremble once.
Corrie let her cheek brush lightly against Quinn’s forehead before turning to kiss her there. And all the while, her hand continued to move, to caress Quinn’s stomach, her ribs, the soft curves above her hips. The movie played in the background, unheeded. Corrie tried to relax into Quinn’s sweet, cuddling touches, but her body grew tighter and tighter as it became more and more difficult not to swing one leg across Quinn’s hips, pinning her in place as she pulled her T-shirt up over her head.
Quinn tilted her head back slightly, just enough to meet Corrie’s gaze. And then she leaned in, all the way in, to seal their lips together. It was the first kiss she had both initiated and followed through on, and it was just like her—soft, hesitant, gentle. Her lips moved against Corrie’s for a long time—testing and nibbling, pressing firmly then retreating—before her tongue tentatively touched one corner of Corrie’s mouth.
Corrie groaned quietly. Quinn pulled back, her eyes wide and her face flushed. “Are you okay?”
“Okay,” Corrie gasped, curling her free hand into the fabric of the couch to keep herself from taking control. “Very okay.” God, I have to stop this soon..I’m going to explode!
Quinn’s smile was blinding. She leaned forward again, and this time, her kisses were firmer. When she touched her tongue to the tip of Corrie’s, they both gasped. The circles of Corrie’s hand on her stomach became sporadic, and she moved higher in fits and starts—higher and higher and higher until the sides of her thumbs were rhythmically rubbing the soft undersides of Quinn’s breasts through her shirt and bra. Quinn’s heartbeat hammered under her palm. When Corrie’s fingers curled around one breast and squeezed, Quinn pulled away again. This time, her eyes were closed as she gulped for breath.
“Quinn…” Corrie said, her voice taut. “I don’t think…”
Quinn’s eyes opened and Corrie’s words died in her throat. The blue of her irises was barely visible, like the nimbus of the sun in an eclipse. She pressed two trembling fingers to Corrie’s lips and shook her head. “Touch me. Touch me the way you want to.”
It sounded so good the way she said it—quietly, with the slightest quaver in her voice. This was the sweetest kind of moment in life, Corrie thought. The instant of capitulation. Surrender. Yielding. Usually she felt pure triumph at such a confession—and there was so much more reason than usual to feel it now—but instead, she was filled with awe.
She had to swallow twice before she could speak. “Are you sure?”
Quinn nodded mutely.
Corrie breathed out a long sigh. She rose smoothly and pulled Quinn up beside her. I know this role. Finally, I know it. “Follow me,” she said gently.
At the top of the stairs, Corrie turned and kissed her. Her mouth trailed down from Quinn’s lips to trace her jaw line. “Do you trust me?” she asked.
“Yes,” Quinn whispered, barely trusting her voice.
“Then close your eyes.” I’ll do this right for you, she promised silently as Quinn shut them, standing blind with her pulse fluttering rapidly just beneath the skin of her neck. Corrie led her slowly down the hallway into the bedroom. Quinn hesitated for only a second before yielding control, following her like a dance partner. At the edge of the bed, Corrie pressed Quinn’s calves against the mattress and gently pushed her to sit.
Quinn kept her eyes closed. Her breaths were coming quickly. Corrie watched the rapid rise and fall of the soft, blue *-neck over her breasts.
“You’re very beautiful.” Carefully, she slid her fingers under the hem of Quinn’s shirt and slipped it off over her head. Beneath she wore a simple, white cotton bra. Corrie’s hands itched to cup her full breasts—to surround them and support them, just like the fabric.
“Scoot back,” she said. She guided Quinn’s body until she was reclining on the bed, her head cushioned by the pillows. And still, Quinn kept her eyes closed, trusting in Corrie’s touches and commands.
Corrie knelt beside Quinn on the mattress and reached out to touch her face. Slowly, she trailed her fingers down Quinn’s forehead, along her nose, across her lips. She felt a strange kind of hesitancy,like nothing she’d ever felt before. Quinn had never given herself this way. She was an innocent, and her body was sacred, somehow.
Corrie swallowed hard and continued her slow journey—over the bump of Quinn’s chin, down the fragile column of her throat, moving steadily toward the valley between her breasts. You can do this, she reminded herself. You know how to make people feel good.
Beneath her touch, Quinn’s heart fluttered rapidly. “Open your eyes,” Corrie said. She inhaled sharply at the pleading gaze that met and held her own. It didn’t matter that Quinn was still half-clothed. Her soul was naked and vulnerable and open, and Corrie was suddenly overwhelmed by a deep surge of protectiveness that left her breathing hard.
She reached around to deftly unsnap Quinn’s bra and cradled her close once her breasts were freed. They felt full and heavy against the thin material of her shirt. Words spilled out of her, then—quiet words, gentle words, completely unlike the torrent of sexual banter she was used to exchanging with her partners. She had no idea where they came from, but they came.
“You feel good,” she murmured. “So soft and warm.” Laying her back on the bed, she let her legs straddle Quinn’s hips and rested her palms lightly on Quinn’s stomach. Quinn gasped at the contact. “God, I love the way your skin feels under my hands. This dip here...your curves...how full and lush you are...”
Quinn listened in wonder as Corrie cherished her body with words and touch, as Corrie’s mouth slid hotly along the bumps of her ribcage and her hair brushed like thin silk across Quinn’s breasts. When Corrie’s tongue lapped at the sensitive undersides, Quinn felt her body arch into the air, helpless. Enchanted. A willing puppet responding eagerly to Corrie’s master touch.
Corrie moved back up to kiss her as she brought her thumbs to the tips of Quinn’s breasts, flicking them back and forth lightly. Quinn’s body jerked, and she let out a strangled groan. Elated and painfully aroused, Corrie repeated the motion, harder.
“Oh.” Quinn’s eyes flew open—still pleading, but suddenly filled with fire. “God, you feel—” She surprised Corrie by tugging at her shirt, fumbling until Corrie found the presence of mind to wrestle it over her own head. Raising herself from the bed, Quinn reached for Corrie’s smaller breasts and buried her face in them, breathing deeply. Corrie’s senses reeled at the brief sensation of Quinn’s cheeks against her sensitive skin. And then Quinn lifted her face and kissed her fiercely, hungrily, as she clutched at the strong muscles of Corrie’s back.
“I knew you would be like this,” Corrie gasped. “You had to be.” She returned her mouth to Quinn’s breasts, tormenting them with lips and teeth and tongue—sucking, nipping, massaging—drawing out little incoherent cries that sounded increasingly desperate.
Immersed in Quinn’s abandon, Corrie pulled off Quinn’s shorts and underwear and stretched out on top of her completely for the first time. Quinn’s hips lifted into her thigh as she instinctually sought to relieve the exquisite pressure building inside her. Pressing Quinn’s arms into the mattress, Corrie reared up to withhold the contact.
“Not yet.”
Quinn’s face was flushed, her eyes dark and dazed. “But I—”
“Hush,” she said soothingly, shifting to lie on her left side, next to Quinn. “I’ve got you.” She smoothed her right hand slowly down Quinn’s body until it brushed against dark curls. Quinn froze.
“No one has ever touched you like this,” said Corrie. Her gaze—so fierce, and yet so gentle—was magnetic.
Quinn’s breath caught. She shook her head helplessly. She looked up with an expression of such vulnerability and innocent desire that Corrie felt something snap, deep inside.
“When I touch you here,” Corrie murmured intensely, “you are mine.”
I was already yours, Quinn confessed silently. Yours for the taking, and now you’re going to...
Warm fingers slid into the delicate folds of her softest skin—exploring, testing, stroking. Pleasure washed through her in waves of fire so intense she had to close her eyes, had to give herself up to sensation. There was only Corrie’s mouth kissing the side of her neck, Corrie’s breasts pressing into her side, Corrie’s fingers opening her, dipping inside, then moving up again to massage her with firm, circling strokes that made Quinn want, need to burst open, to split apart because there wasn’t room for it all for all the feeling all the fire all the light and heat and she wanted to fall, to fall forever, oh, just one final push—
