The Better To Kiss You With

by Michelle Osgood

  When Deanna let Arthur back into their apartment—ignoring his heavy doggy sigh at being left alone again—she dropped off her coat as well. It seemed a bit silly to bring her purse and shoes when she was only going one floor up, but she was wearing a dress again and they never had pockets. Deanna wasn’t going to leave her phone behind or her front door unlocked. Noting that her self-imposed deadline of fifteen minutes was almost up, she ran her comb through her hair. No matter what she tried, the humidity made it a frizzy mess by the end of the night. She dabbed a bit more color onto her lips, hoping to balance the rosy cheeks that the wine and anticipation had given her, and finished with a spritz of her favorite perfume.

  Giving herself a critical once-over in the mirror, Deanna decided she looked gorgeous. Her hair would frizz in a matter of minutes, but she ignored that and turned on her heel to make her way upstairs as nerves danced in the pit of her stomach.

  Jamie had thoughtfully left her own front door slightly ajar, and Deanna stepped through with a light knock just in case Jamie, like Deanna, was also indulging in a last minute primp.

  “Welcome back to my—what did Nathan call it last time—‘humble abode’?” Jamie called from the kitchen where she stood behind the counter opening a bottle of wine.

  As Deanna made her way across the living room to join her, the apartment echoed with the sharp pop of bubbly being opened, and she couldn’t help the coo of pleasure the sound elicited.

  “You really didn’t need to go to all this effort,” she said as she slid onto one of the bar stools.

  “What effort? You think I don’t always have some Prosecco on hand?” Jamie arched an eyebrow, and the haughty curve of it drew the breath from Deanna’s lungs. She gripped the edge of the stool with both hands to stop herself from squirming, suddenly feeling as if her skin was stretched hot and tight.

  Deanna licked her lips. “I…”

  “Only teasing,” Jamie said with a wink, crossing the room to hand Deanna a flute of the pink bubbly. “I actually had to go pick up a couple of these.” She raised her own glass and tapped it lightly against Deanna’s.

  Deanna knew she was probably as pink as the wine and chose to tilt the glass back and take a sip instead of answering. The bubbles hit her tongue, and she closed her eyes with a murmur of delight. She felt giddy enough without the added wine, but couldn’t resist taking another mouthful and rolling it around with her tongue. Since a bottle of wine was more than she would usually drink in one sitting, and anything sparkling didn’t stay sparkling overnight, Deanna rarely had the chance to indulge. And Jamie, intentionally or not, had picked a delicious bottle.

  “I’m glad you did.” Expression serious, Deanna looked over the top of her glass at Jamie. “I have a firm policy against sleeping with anyone who doesn’t own proper champagne flutes.”

  Jamie’s eyes widened, and she choked on her mouthful of wine. Deanna laughed so hard that she had to set her glass down. It took Jamie a minute to recover, and Deanna was still giggling helplessly when Jamie moved toward her.

  Deanna swallowed her laughter as Jamie closed in. The other woman had taken off her jacket and vest, removed her tie and rolled the sleeves of her dress shirt up her forearms. When Deanna twisted around on the stool to keep Jamie in sight, Jamie bracketed her, and it took Deanna a second to drag her eyes away from those bare forearms, with their light dusting of soft hair. Deanna had leaned back as Jamie moved closer, and the edge of the counter dug into her back as she tried to take a deep breath and slow the pounding of her heart. She could feel the heat of Jamie’s arms against her own, though Jamie had been careful to not quite touch. That almost-contact was torture, and when Deanna’s eyes finally got past the hollow of Jamie’s throat, her golden skin framed so deliciously by the crisp white collar, Deanna knew it had been on purpose.

  The breath she’d taken escaped in a sudden rush, and Jamie pressed in; Deanna’s thighs parted automatically until Jamie stood between them. The rasp of denim against the bare skin of her legs where her dress had ridden up made Deanna shiver, and Jamie’s whiskey-colored eyes darkened in response.

  “Should we leave dessert for after?” Jamie pushed closer, her words ghosting against Deanna’s parted lips.

  It took Deanna a moment to answer, the tightness in her throat making her response breathier than she’d intended. “Please.”

  Jamie’s teeth flashed in a grin, and Deanna had a second to marvel at how positively wolfish those white teeth made her look before Jamie’s hands were in her hair and she was dragging Deanna’s head back to bite at the column of her exposed neck.

  Deanna’s legs wrapped around Jamie and pulled her closer; her hips jerked when Jamie’s tongue laved the mark her teeth had left. Jamie’s body gave an answering roll and Deanna groaned as Jamie’s lips found her own.

  Jamie pulled her hands free from Deanna’s curls, gripped the back of her thighs and pulled her up off the stool. Deanna squeaked as she locked her arms around Jamie’s neck, afraid she’d fall.

  “Let me down! I can walk, I can walk,” she protested, laughing. Jamie was muscular but she wasn’t that much bigger than Deanna, and Deanna really didn’t want Jamie to strain any muscles before they got to the important part of the evening. Not that she wasn’t enjoying the display of strength; it was turning Deanna’s insides into jelly.

  “No,” Jamie growled against the sensitive skin of Jamie’s throat, and Deanna’s next protest died on her lips.

  Deanna tried to pay attention as they moved down the hallway, but she didn’t catch more than a flash of the dove-gray walls before Jamie shoved open the door to her bedroom. She had Deanna pressed back against the soft give of a mattress before she could do more than blink. Deanna was still adjusting to lying flat when Jamie slid a hand between her legs and cupped the center of her.

  Deanna made a strangled noise and arched into the touch; her hands clutched the bed sheets when Jamie increased the pressure, moving the base of her palm in steady, maddening circles against Deanna’s clit. Deanna’s hips rose to meet the touch as Jamie bowed, head dipping to suck a bruise into the heaving flesh of Deanna’s breast where it rose over the top of her dress.

  The aching pain was enough to send Deanna over the edge, and with a bitten-off curse she came, gushing wet and hot into Jamie’s hand. Jamie didn’t give her a moment to recover before she slipped her fingers under the soaked fabric of Deanna’s panties and into Deanna.

  Deanna tore her hands free of the sheets to yank desperately at Jamie’s shirt, needing to feel Jamie’s skin against her own, as Jamie found the spot inside her that had Deanna’s eyes fluttering closed and her nails digging ruthlessly into Jamie’s back.

  “Please, just let me—” Deanna struggled to pull in enough air as Jamie twisted two fingers into her and Deanna could have sworn she saw stars. “Just—fuck!” She convulsed around Jamie and felt the other woman grin widely against her skin. As the last waves of pleasure shuddered through her, Deanna fell lax against the bed with her hands sliding bonelessly off a still-very-much-clothed Jamie and realized that she, too, was still fully dressed.

  Jamie leaned back, bringing her slick fingers to her mouth. Deanna made a soft noise of frustration and pushed herself up onto her elbows; her legs were still weak and trembling.

  “Clothes. Off. Now,” she demanded.

  “So impatient,” Jamie remarked with no small amount of smugness.

  “Says the woman who wouldn’t even let me have dessert—or finish my glass of wine.”

  Deanna watched with half-lidded eyes as Jamie unbuttoned her shirt. In a moment Deanna would sit up and pull her dress fully off, but for now she was more than happy to lie back and watch Jamie’s skin appear inch by inch as she worked her way down the buttons.

  Jamie unclasped her simple white bra in the front and dropped it before she was forced to move off the bed and stand to work her tight jeans down her legs. T
he thought of all that dusky skin against her own forced Deanna into action, and she sat up to yank her dress free, then shoved it somewhere off the bed. Her bra and panties followed moments later. Naked and completely unashamed, Deanna moved forward on her knees until she was at the edge of the bed, where she hooked her fingers into the wide band of Jamie’s underwear as she finally kicked her way free of her pants.

  Jamie’s hands came to push her underwear down, but Deanna caught her fingers and stopped her, leaning in to lick quick and catlike at Jamie’s hardened nipple. Jamie’s fingers stilled, her eyes fell shut and color rose high on her cheeks as Deanna pulled Jamie closer until the heat of her radiated against the bare skin of Deanna’s front.

  Deanna drew Jamie’s nipple into her mouth; her tongue teased the stiff flesh until Jamie made a high, helpless sound in her throat. Deanna slid her hands around Jamie’s sides, dipped under the band of her underwear and gripped her ass with both hands as she tried to work more of Jamie’s hot flesh into her mouth. Jamie writhed against her; her hands rested lightly on Deanna’s shoulders as Deanna slid her fingers into the cleft of Jamie’s ass and then lower.

  Because of the angle, Deanna couldn’t do more than slide the pad of her finger over Jamie’s slick opening, and Jamie’s angry mewl of frustration made everything in Deanna’s body clench. She could feel how damp she still was between her own legs; her thighs were wet with arousal and orgasm, and after another teasing stroke over Jamie she relented. Pushing Jamie’s underwear down, she released Jamie’s breast and scooted back on the bed so Jamie could join her.

  Jamie tried to push Deanna into the mattress, but Deanna wriggled free. Jamie let Deanna shove her back. Since Jamie had already displayed in the living room that she was more than strong enough to move Deanna where she wanted her, Deanna was pleased that she yielded.

  A red bruise was already blooming around Jamie’s nipple, and Deanna dropped a light kiss over the abused flesh, though she couldn’t deny how the thought of having marked Jamie, and over such a sensitive place—so that whenever her shirt or bra scraped over the tender skin she’d think of Deanna—thrilled her.

  “Deanna.”

  She caught Jamie’s desperate gaze. Jamie had raked a hand through her carefully styled hair, and it fell in disarray around her face. Unlike Deanna, Jamie always appeared completely put together. Even in jeans and a T-shirt she expressed an air of total confidence and comfort. Her disheveled hair, even more than her nakedness, sharpened Deanna’s desire until she could feel the bite of it like a physical pain.

  Careful to be gentle despite the storm that raged within her, Deanna pressed a hand to Jamie’s belly, urging her to lie flat. When Jamie complied, Deanna moved down Jamie’s body, dropping light kisses down her stomach until she reached the dark thatch of hair between her legs.

  Jamie quivered under Deanna’s lips but followed Deanna’s wordless instruction, keeping herself still as Deanna shouldered her legs apart and settled comfortably between them. With her cheek pressed against Jamie’s thigh, Deanna could see the rapid rise and fall of Jamie’s breathing and the flush that spilled over her cheeks to her throat and spread over the thin skin of her chest. Deanna nuzzled against the raised mound of Jamie’s pubis; the soft hair curled against her face as she breathed in the scent of Jamie’s arousal.

  Unlike Deanna, Jamie’s slickness was gathered at the center of her, and Deanna used gentle fingers to part her folds. She was wet and pink, a vivid contrast to the darkness of her hair, and Deanna paused with her teeth sunk into her own bottom lip as she drank in the sight before her: as intoxicating—no, more so than the pink Prosecco.

  Jamie’s hips gave an unconscious twitch and a whine of frustration rose in her throat. Deanna breathed out a soft laugh before she pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Jamie’s swollen clit. Jamie froze, her thighs tense around Deanna as Deanna used the flat of her tongue to glide lightly over that responsive bundle of nerves. She stroked once, twice, movements slow enough to be agonizing for both of them before she sucked Jamie into her mouth. She kept up the rhythm, slow and insistent, echoing her earlier pull of Jamie’s breast.

  Jamie’s hand came down, pushed against the back of Deanna’s head as she tried to increase the pressure—but, instead of complying, Deanna stopped. Lifting her face, parted lips glistening, she gave her head a single shake as she met Jamie’s eyes, her pupils blown wide and blurry. With a dissatisfied whimper, Jamie dropped her hand, flattening it against the mattress. Only when Deanna was sure Jamie wouldn’t move did she bring her lips back down to rub over Jamie’s clit, touch even lighter than her tongue had been.

  “Deanna.” Jamie’s voice was a broken plea; her legs shook as she fought to hold herself still and not thrust up into Deanna’s mouth. Deanna brought a hand down from Jamie’s waist and pressed it between her own legs, rocking against her fingers as she finally took pity on Jamie and tongued at her in earnest.

  Jamie lifted off the bed at Deanna’s increased movements; her ragged breathing filled the room as Deanna pushed them both closer to orgasm. With a hard suck at Jamie’s clit and the slightest graze of teeth, Jamie cried out and shook against Deanna; her hand grabbed Deanna’s hair. Deanna moaned in approval against Jamie’s wet heat before pulling her mouth away to sink her teeth bruisingly into the soft flesh of Jamie’s trembling thigh as she rode her own hand to another shattering orgasm.

  Afterward, Jamie rose to pull on new underwear and a tank top, but Deanna stayed happily naked in Jamie’s bed, watching with the quiet contentment of a cat as Jamie returned with the neglected Prosecco and a small plate of baklava. Deanna sat up to take the glass Jamie offered, not bothering to cover herself. The wine was still pleasantly cool.

  Deanna still felt flushed and warm with the afterglow, but as Jamie settled back against the headboard Deanna snuggled close beside her. Jamie was radiating even more heat than Deanna; Deanna could have sworn she could feel it sinking into her bones like a hot bath, but the touch of the cool wine against her lips was a soothing counterpoint to her overstimulated nerves.

  Though Deanna was usually unable to stop herself from saying every other thought that came into her head, post-orgasm Deanna was more than happy to indulge in silence. Jamie seemed equally content to say nothing. Sipping her wine, she stroked a slow hand over Deanna’s hair, but not through it, because the curls were hopelessly tangled. Deanna had a nibble of baklava but couldn’t bring herself to go through the effort of sitting up to eat more, choosing instead to lick the sticky honey from her fingers and then wrap her arm around Jamie’s stomach.

  “Do you want to stay the night?” When Jamie did break the silence, Deanna realized that she’d been half-dozing with her champagne flute propped against Jamie’s hip.

  “Mmm, I shouldn’t.” Reluctantly, Deanna pushed herself up until she was sitting. “Thank you for offering, but Arthur worries. And I know you have an early class.”

  The idea of staying was enticing, but Deanna had no intention of overstaying her welcome and letting this relationship fizzle out before it had a chance to become something. Not that she suspected that was likely, not after the incredible sex they’d just had, but she didn’t want to risk it. Because Deanna definitely wanted to see Jamie again—and oh, god, she wanted to fuck Jamie again.

  “If you’re sure,” Jamie said, watching as Deanna pulled her dress over her shoulders. She didn’t bother with her panties or her bra. After all, she was only going one floor down, and they’d fit easily enough in her purse.

  “I’m sure,” Deanna confirmed and kissed Jamie. Jamie’s hands ran up Deanna’s forearms and gave a quick squeeze as Deanna pulled back. “Thank you for the delightful evening,” she said, lingering in the doorway of the bedroom to appreciate the image of Jamie sprawled and sated on the bed.

  “It was my pleasure.” Jamie’s lips quirked in a smirk that had Deanna questioning whether she ought to crawl back into the bed and—no, bes
t not. She let herself drag her gaze down Jamie’s body one last time. Her brow furrowed when she noticed that the bruise she’d carefully dug into Jamie’s thigh with her teeth as she’d come the final time hadn’t turned out to be much of a bruise at all. In fact, there wasn’t a trace of Deanna’s teeth left against the delicate skin of Jamie’s inner thigh.

  Dismissing her disappointment with a small shake of her head—she’d just have to try harder, and she was fairly certain Jamie wouldn’t mind—Deanna blew a cheeky kiss to Jamie and went back to her apartment.

  Chapter Six |

  Having Jamie one floor above her was excruciating. Deanna came to this conclusion three days after their date. She hadn’t seen Jamie since that night, but knowing that her lover—and what a thrill it was to use the word lover, even if it was only in her head—was at any moment walking across the floor above Deanna was enough to drive her crazy.

  The floors were thick enough that Deanna couldn’t actually hear Jamie move about, but since they’d been texting nearly nonstop since the morning after they’d had sex, Deanna knew when Jamie was home. They’d tried to schedule a second date, but one of Deanna’s coworkers had come down with a nasty case of the flu so Deanna had agreed to pick up a couple of extra shifts. Naturally, those shifts were the night ones.

  So, while Jamie might have the evening off, Deanna didn’t.

  With a heavy sigh, and well aware of how melodramatic she was being, Deanna pulled her focus back to the computer screen in front of her. She had four more hours left and then she could go to bed. She could handle four more hours without texting Jamie and inviting herself upstairs.