Accidental Love

by BL Miller

  "We all have our embarrassing moments," Ronnie said gently, giving the hand within hers a squeeze.

  "Your turn. Tell me about Chris." The brush stopped mid-nail and the older woman's face looked like she swallowed the wrong way.

  "Um, Chris?" Her voice squeaked and she had to clear it. "Who told you about Chris?"

  "Susan said Chris hurt you very badly. What did he do?"

  Ronnie felt her heart pick up speed and licked her lips nervously. "What did Susan tell you?"

  "Just that Chris hurt you badly. She didn't say anything more. I'm sorry, if you don't want to…"

  "No, it's all right," she returned her attention to the hand she was holding. How much do I tell her? She looked up at the gentle face, trying to gauge her reaction. "Um…I met Chris while I was at Stanford."

  "How long did you two go out?"

  "We were together for about three and half months. I was young and in love and I guess…Chris wasn't."

  "What did he do?"

  "Betrayed me." There was a touch of the long ago hurt in her voice. "After I broke it off, Chris called my parents and asked for money." She mentally cursed herself for letting Rose believe that her ex-lover was a man but still found she couldn't bring herself to utter the hidden truth.

  "Threatened to take our relationship public."

  "Oh that's terrible!" Rose gasped. "No wonder you don't date much."

  "Much?" Ronnie gave a short laugh. "I haven't seriously dated anyone in years. I have an escort service I use for formal affairs."

  "Not worth the hassle, eh?"

  "Absolutely not worth it," the dark-haired woman said emphatically. "Okay, you're done." She released the smaller hand, deliberately drawing her forefinger along the length of Rose's as they separated. "This is the quick drying stuff. Give it a minute, then you'll be all set. So I got to pick your color, you pick mine."

  Green eyes perused the various shades before deciding on one. "Now you are someone who can wear the deep reds. I think this would look nice on you." She held up a dark shade called Heart.

  "You know that red blouse you wore last week? This shade would be perfect with that." She focused on the strong hands resting in Ronnie's lap. "You have strong hands. Not bony at all. Must be all that working out." Deciding her nails were dry enough, Rose took the older woman's hand in hers.

  Gotta have some way to release my tension, Ronnie thought to herself. Sharing a bed did not allow her the privacy she usually had late at night to relieve herself in another way. She tried hard not to think about how nice it felt to hold hands with Rose, even if they were both being careful not to smudge the freshly painted nails. The warmth, the softness…with a start she realized the young woman was speaking to her. "I'm sorry, what?"

  "Nothing, I was just teasing."

  "What did you say?"

  "I asked if you worked out so much because you were frustrated." Rose blushed at her attempt at a bold joke. "Because you're down in that gym so often."

  Ronnie chuckled. "If that was the case, I'd be down there all the time. Of course there are other ways to take care of that problem," she said, deciding that she liked the pretty color rising to the young woman's cheeks.

  "Uh, yes there are," Rose agreed, looking down. She finished the nail she was working on in silence. It wasn't common for her to discuss sex with anyone and she felt like a teenager, curious and embarrassed at the same time. "Do you do that?" she practically whispered as she brought the brush to the next fingernail.

  "Everyone does that, Rose."

  "Yeah, I'm sure they do, I just didn't think…I mean I can't imagine…" The image of Ronnie touching herself formed in her mind for an instant before she forced it away. "I don't mean that I imagine you…well…you know…I mean…" She stammered to a stop, having now fully embarrassed herself. "Oh God, this topic was my idea?" She laughed and shook her head. "I guess I should have picked something I had a little more experience in."

  "You're cute when you blush, you know." Ronnie gave a big smile and jerked her head back at the mock pass at her nose with the polish brush. "Obviously we've both had bad luck when it came to romance."

  "You know that doesn't mean you won't ever find love again." She began working on the last nail. "You're a very special woman, Ronnie. Any man would be lucky to have you…oops." She reached over and grabbed a cotton ball to wipe away the errant swipe of polish from the thumb.

  "Yeah, well maybe someday I'll find someone, but I'm not worried about it." She held her hand up and smiled. "You did a good job, Rose. They look great."

  "Thanks, you did too." She held up her own hand for comparison. "Hey, look how much smaller my hand is compared to yours." She pressed their palms together and giggled at the difference.

  "So what do you want to do now?" Ronnie asked, not making any move to withdraw her hand. She didn't want it to end--not yet. "The night is still young. I know, how about we braid each other's hair?"

  "Oh, that sounds like fun," Rose happily agreed. "I love your hair. I bet you'd look really cute in one of those French braids."

  "Whatever you want to do. I trust you not to make me look like Heidi the Swiss Miss Girl."

  "Ohh." The fair-haired woman gave a fake pout. "But you'd look so cute."

  "And just what do you think I'd make you look like if you did that?" Ronnie chuckled. "Do you want me to do your hair first?"

  "No, I wanna do yours first. You have nice hair. Besides, you have to give those nails another minute or two to dry." The older woman obliged, turning around so her back was to Rose. Blue eyes fluttered shut at the feel of gentle fingers sinking into her hair. The soft, melodic voice drifted in. "So thick and long. I don't know how you manage not to spend hours brushing it."

  "I talented," Ronnie said with a grin. "And I have a damn good hair dryer," she added.

  "It's very pretty," Rose whispered, pulling her fingers through the sable strands. "When the light shines on it, some parts seem almost jet black while others seem lighter, like a chestnut."

  "It does get a little lighter in the summer. I figure it's from all the chlorine in the pool."

  "Mmm." Rose began to twist the hair into a braid. "I bet you were happy to have the pool last summer. Albany was absolutely scorching."

  "Does yours get lighter? I bet it does."

  "Yeah, it becomes so pale that it's almost saffron." Small fingers continued to twist the dark hair, careful to keep the braid straight. They kept up the chit-chat but Rose's concentration was on what her hands were doing, not what they were talking about. When she reached the end and tied it off, her fingers automatically landed on the broad shoulders before her. She experimented by squeezing gently and was rewarded with a deep groan. "Sounds like you could use a massage."

  "I'd love one," Ronnie replied, leaning into the pressure. "You've got a great touch."

  "Thank you." She slipped her fingers and thumbs under the neck of the T-shirt and began kneading the muscles hidden under warm flesh. Rose moved as far as the opening would let her giving a gentle tug on the shirt.

  "You don't have to do that."

  "I know, I want to." She gave another tug. "It's not like there's anyone else here to do it, and besides, if I can't give my best friend a backrub, who can?" She moved her hands out of the way as the light gray shirt was removed.

  "That's nice," Ronnie murmured.

  "What's nice?"

  "Best friend." She turned to meet soft green eyes. "That goes both ways, you know. I've never had anyone I could talk to like you." On impulse she pulled Rose into a hug.

  At first the young woman was startled but then she relaxed against the warmth of the bare skin. With her face buried in the crook of Ronnie's neck, she inhaled the mixture of perfume, soap, and the older woman's own scent. As the embrace continued, she became cognizant of where her forearm rested against the swell of bared breasts. She had never touched another woman's breasts before and found herself curiously focused on the new sensation. They were soft, warm…for a brief i
nstant she had the urge to cup one in her hand, to feel its weight, but Ronnie's body shook with a chuckle and the spell was broken. "What?"

  "I said I know I'm soft but you can't sleep there," the dark-haired woman teased.

  "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just…I um…" Rose's face colored and her mind refused to offer up any excuses.

  "You felt like you were drifting off and I figured your pillows were better than my boob." Ronnie turned away again and sighed as the backrub resumed.

  "Oh, I don't know about that," Rose replied, moving her fingers down the length of her friend's spine. "Looks like you have plenty to make a pillow out of." She surprised herself with her boldness and quickly tried to laugh it off. "Not that I'm particularly lacking in that department myself." Her eyes fell upon a small triangle of skin darker than the rest just below Ronnie's shoulder blade. "Did you know you have a birthmark right here?" She poked the area in question.

  "So I've heard. Never seen it myself." Rose continued to trace the mark with her fingertip, unaware of the effect her touch was having on Ronnie's senses. "It's um…not in a good position, even with mirrors."

  "Hmm, it's very pretty. It’s just a little thing, no bigger than my fingertip. It's just below your shoulder blade." Her eyes studied the landscape of her friend's back, noting every freckle and beauty mark. Where her eyes went, her hands followed, splaying out and running up and down.

  "You have a strong back, Ronnie."

  In fact, everything about you is strong, she silently mused. Strong shoulders, strong arms, even your jawline is strong. She leaned over and spied the large hand resting on the Ronnie's thigh. And your hands…strong and gentle. When you hold me at night I feel so safe. When my legs hurt so much I don't think I can stand it you come along and make it feel better just by putting your arms around me. She never realized her hand had moved and was now gently stroking up and down a well-defined bicep.

  "Um…I think that's good, Rose."

  "Hmm? Oh." Rose pulled her hands back and watched Ronnie put her T-shirt back on.

  "Okay, your turn. Scoot forward."

  Long, dexterous fingers moved through her hair, against her scalp, massaging while braiding. Rose didn't know when her eyes closed or when Ronnie started humming. She gave up trying to figure out what she was feeling and lost herself in it. She pressed back against her friend's fingers, sighing audibly when Ronnie took the hint and began pressing her thumbs against the base of the skull. "Ooh, that's nice," she murmured, a lazy smile coming to her face.

  "Talk about needing a massage," the executive replied. "That's it, relax against me." Rose did as the rich voice told her, letting her upper body rest upon Ronnie's. The Dartmouth nightshirt was big on her, the larger neck allowing hands to reach her shoulders without hindrance. She sighed again as the strong fingers forced her muscles to relax. She sank deeper against the larger frame behind her. Her shoulders were completely limp but Rose discovered another part of her was far from that state. She didn't need to look down to realize that her nipples were tightening up. As Ronnie's hands moved beneath the nightshirt, the cloth rubbed against the pink puckered skin. Eyes closed, Rose imagined those strong hands moving down. Her eyes flew open with the realization of what she was feeling…arousal.

  "Hey…um…why don't we turn on the television? I'm sure there's something on we can watch." She reached for the remote, hoping her voice didn't sound as nervous to Ronnie as it did to her own ears.

  Broken out of her own musings by the sudden move, the dark-haired woman could only mumble an approval. The noise of the television filled the air. It took a moment for her to realize that Rose wasn't going to lean back against her anymore. Disappointed that the massage was over, Ronnie returned to the earlier task of braiding the blonde hair. Five minutes before she had been content, cozy, and comfortable. Now her body felt cool without the warmth of the smaller woman against her. She let out a silent sigh and resigned herself to be content with just touching the soft tresses.

  Rose was also feeling the loss of their body contact. It took effort on her part not to lean into Ronnie's fingers and start the massage over again. Why am I feeling like this? What's gotten into me? It's just Ronnie. She tried to imagine how it would feel if someone else was touching her but an accidental brushing of a hand against her collarbone blew that thought away. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a nice backrub from you right now. She began to lean into Ronnie's touch again and had to stop herself. This is crazy. It's just that no one has ever touched me like this before, that's all. She repeated the words over and over in her head until the braiding was done. When Ronnie moved out from behind her and she settled back against the pillows, Rose felt anything but relaxed. Her body was wide awake and burning with a fire that she hadn't felt in years. In fact, the room seemed quite warm to her at the moment. Her only hope was that sleep would come quickly. "I'm tired," she said over a fake yawn.

  "Really?" Ronnie looked at the clock. "It's still early."

  "Yeah, I don't know, I think your neckrub is putting me to sleep. You can stay up if you want to, the TV won't bother me." She closed her eyes and nuzzled deeper into her pillow.

  "I'm not tired yet but I don't want to keep you up. I'll go downstairs and work out for a while. I'm sure that'll tire me out."

  "Oh, you don't have to leave," Rose protested, although an idea was forming in her mind.

  "No, it's no problem, really. I could use a workout," she reassured, climbing out of bed and shutting off the television. "I'll be back in about a half-hour, forty-five minutes or so."

  "Okay." Perfect.

  *************************

  Rose waited until she heard the music wafting through the floorboards before bending her right knee and drawing her legs apart. Self-pleasuring was not something she did often but her fingers had no trouble slipping between her slick lips and locating her excited nerves. "Ah…" Her fingers felt cool surrounded by the liquid warmth and the sensation was heightened when she drew the length of her finger across her clit. She filled her mind with erotic images while her passion grew. Her left hand pushed its way under the nightshirt and latched on to…

  …her nipple became hard under the rhythmic pumping. Lying on the thick blue workout mat, Ronnie let her free hand travel into her sweatpants to cup her mound through her panties.

  "Ohh…" Long fingers pushed the cotton against her wet curls, then further until the crotch was saturated. Shifting for leverage, she caused some slack to form in the panties and she used it to her full advantage, curling her fingers under the elastic edge and between her nether lips. Eyes closed, her fingers became Rose's fingers. Imagining the blonde woman touching her so intimately caused Ronnie's hips to buck against the mat and her breath to quicken. It was a fantasy she hadn't allowed herself to entertain until now and she was surprised by its power. It was too much to deny anymore. She was in love with Rose Grayson; nothing could change that. Reality could never be but here, now, on a mat in her private gym, the fantasy could live. Here there was no accident, no broken bones, no shattered lives. Here was just her and Rose, loving each other. Ronnie's fingers moved through the black curls and pink lips with old familiarity but the touches were somehow different, more intense. She was more than ready when two long fingers found her entrance and slid…

  …inside to her first knuckle. Rose brought her other hand down and rubbed herself furiously. The full-length cast was the only thing keeping her hips even remotely on the bed. Her thigh muscles tensed and she felt a twinge of pain in her left leg but it paled in comparison to the pleasure her fingers were bringing. Pumping in, back, then in deeper still, her fantasy lover brought her to the edge. Rose pushed as far as she could but there was more…more that she couldn't quite reach. That special place was so close and yet so far away. Teeth gritted, face contorted, she strained to reach orgasm. Pumping so deep that it hurt the webbing between her fingers while her left hand never ceased in its frantic efforts. Rose felt herself teetering on the brink but was unable to fall over t
he edge. Then her fantasy lover spoke to her. "Yes, that's it, Rose. Let it go, that's right." Ronnie's low tones rumbled through her, setting off electric charges that moved from her breasts to her clit where the final explosion came with shattering force.

  "Oh…"

  "…Rose!" Ronnie cried out as the pulsing waves crashed through her. Sure, deliberate movements drew out the pleasure, allowing her a few more seconds with her imaginary lover before falling limply back to the mat. Eyes closed, she lay there for several minutes, unwilling to let the fantasy go too soon. Eventually her breathing slowed and reality returned. With it came profound sadness. No matter what she did, it would never take away the truth about the accident. Nothing would take away Rose's pain. Ronnie sat up and wrapped her arms around her legs, hugging herself into a ball. For so long I haven't wanted anyone and now there's you. She looked at the ceiling, then slowly buried her head against her knees. What am I going to do? I need you in my life, Rose. I can't imagine what it was like before you came and I dread the thought of you ever leaving. At that moment there was nothing Ronnie wanted to do more than to cuddle up against the smaller woman. She took a deep breath and sat up, knowing that the longer she stayed downstairs the longer it would be before she could rest against Rose's warm…