by Julie Blair
Jac was almost growling through the trumpet now, low notes that went right to Liz’s clit. No, no, no. Her nerve endings felt scorched, and sweat broke out on her throat. She forgot what she was playing. Then thought ceased, and they were playing something that was “Carmel Sketches.” And not “Carmel Sketches.” It was intense and physical, and they were all tangled up with each other as if having sex. Cheeks hot, breathing fast, sweat dripping down her back, Liz pounded the keys. Her sex pulsed as if responding to Jac’s trumpet. No, no, no. Minutes felt like days and like no time. Her mind collapsed into the music. This was exhilarating. This was dangerous.
And then as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. As if she were waking from a fever, Jac’s playing slowed and became moody. Liz looked over her shoulder again as she adjusted to the new tempo. Jac looked sad, almost broken, and her expression tore at Liz’s heart. So much complexity. So much sensitivity. So much she didn’t know about Jac.
Minutes later, Jac brought the song to a close with feather-light notes, and they were left with the remnant of what had happened, like confetti falling around them. Liz turned around on the bench. Jac’s parents clapped, broad smiles on their faces. Sweat rolled down Jac’s face, down her throat, inside her blouse. She really should fasten another button. She held the trumpet between her breasts as her chest rose and fell. She was smiling, a satisfied, relaxed smile, as if she’d—
Liz sat in the agony of skin too hot, and pressure pulsing in her center, and arousal draped over her like a thick sweater. She gripped the edge of the bench, bouncing her leg, fighting an overwhelming urge to put her hand between her legs. They were not playing that version at Monterey. They were never playing that version again. Never. “I need some water.” She hurried to the kitchen and splashed water on her face, then gulped ice water.
When she returned to the living room, Jac was cleaning her trumpet, chatting with her parents like nothing had happened. Hadn’t something happened?
“I’m going to turn in,” she said after talking with them for a polite amount of time. She needed to be away from Jac with her wild playing and sleeveless blouses. She wanted her concealed in wool trousers and buttoned-down shirts. She wanted the old Jac. The Jac who played elegantly. The Jac who didn’t make her feel things she didn’t want to feel.
“Sleep well.” Jac stepped toward her.
For an instant, Liz wanted to be swept into her arms. She walked past Jac. She couldn’t hug her. Not tonight. She took a cold shower and then lay on the bed, arms and legs spread. A warm breeze teased over her skin. No, she was not going to touch herself. The urge would fade if she ignored it.
Long after the voices stopped and bedroom doors shut, she lay awake, her mind exhausted from trying to force reason onto a body that burned for what it wanted. Jac. Angry tears stinging her eyes, she thrust her hand inside the tight confines of her shorts. She needed release so bad. She wanted it in Jac’s arms. She was attracted to Jac. Crazy bad attracted to her. No, no, no. She yanked her hand out and scrambled off the bed, wound tight by frustration and confusion. A walk would clear her head. Tomorrow she’d be home. This would fade.
She was out the front door and half a block away before she realized how dark it was. Houses were mere shadows and, without streetlights, she was afraid she’d get lost.
Back in the house, she went to the kitchen. She took a glass of ice water to the deck and closed the slider behind her. She felt fragile, like delicate glass that could shatter with the slightest touch, grasping at a past that time was turning into the brittleness of memories. The stream of days and years with Teri was fragmenting into disjointed images infiltrated with an overlay of new memories that didn’t include Teri. Music that didn’t include Teri. A dream vacation that didn’t include Teri.
She loved Teri. She wanted Jac. It was that simple and that complicated, that achingly painful, and it squeezed the breath from her. How could her body betray her? She gripped the railing and stared out to the dark ocean as past and present squared off. Waves crashed to shore in the distance. The slider opened. Her heart leapt into her throat. For an agonizing moment, she didn’t know if she wanted it to be Jac or not.
“I didn’t know you were out here. I couldn’t sleep.” Jac’s voice was like a soothing caress on Liz’s overheated skin.
“There’s the barest sliver of moon. It’s a very black night.” Sadness and longing engulfed her in equal measure. She swallowed the last of the water, holding the ice cubes in her mouth. Cold on her tongue, but they did nothing for the heat torching her. “What do you do when you want something you shouldn’t want?”
“Of course you should want Teri to be here.” Jac was inches from her, but her voice sounded distant.
“Not—” Jac was so beautiful, and longing spilled out of her, down her arms, into her hands. She clasped Jac’s waist and pulled her close. Reason was chased away by the softness of Jac’s lips, then the warmth of her mouth as she pushed past her lips. Jac’s body stiffened, but her mouth softened. She kissed her until she needed air and then kissed across her cheek.
“I need you.” Want. Desire. Tones long absent from Liz’s voice rose from the place that ached for Jac’s touch. She bit below Jac’s ear and whispered, “I’m burning up.” She returned to Jac’s mouth and entered her, sucking her tongue, urging her to join in the dance.
“Liz.” Jac pushed on her waist.
“Shh.” She wrapped her arms tighter and pressed her sex against Jac’s thigh, nuzzling her neck. “I need this. I’ve missed it so much. Touch me.” Grasping Jac’s hand, she brought it to her breast. She rubbed against Jac’s palm, moaning with pleasure, her nipple a hypersensitive peak. “Please.”
“Oh, God.” Jac’s voice was tight, almost frail. “Not this.”
Need blocked out the words. She pulled Jac’s hand to the place that throbbed, holding it against her sex as she rocked her pelvis…the seam of her shorts…Jac’s fingers…she was seconds from coming, and it felt so good, so good…then Jac’s hand was gone. She whimpered and rubbed her clit on Jac’s leg. “I need to come so bad. Please.”
“Not here. Not like this.” Jac’s voice was rough.
Liz hurried them to Jac’s bedroom. Closing the door, she pinned Jac against it and kissed her deeply. She separated Jac’s legs with her knee, rode Jac’s thigh in a desperate search for release. “God…please.” Had she ever needed to come this bad? Her mind went blank to everything but the demanding throb in her clit. Days of wanting drove her beyond the barrier of the past and into a present sizzling with sensation. More. She needed so much more.
Jac gripped her arms and backed her to the bed.
Liz tumbled onto it, pulling Jac on top of her. She could barely see her in the dark. They were encased in hot and humid air tinged with the sweet smell of flowers. Jac had her undressed in seconds. She tried to unzip Jac’s shorts, but Jac pinned her hands above her head and lay on top of her. Jac kissed her long and hard as she cupped Liz’s breast and rubbed her thumb across the nipple, taking charge the way Liz needed her to.
Liz fought to free her legs, fought to open herself to the pressure she needed, but Jac restrained her. She groaned into Jac’s mouth, twined her fingers in her hair, and rocked with increasing urgency against the constraint. With a final squeeze that made her clit contract, Jac released her breast and stroked up the outside of Liz’s thigh, across her hip to her groin. Liz spread her legs. When Jac’s fingers found her clit she arched into the touch, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
“Is this all right?”
“God, yes. Don’t stop.” A different hand, different fingers taking her toward the release she desperately needed, but they were familiar fingers, too, and she welcomed them. She bit her lip and wrapped her arms around Jac. Her ab and thigh muscles tightened as she was pushed toward climax. “Oh, God…it’s so good…”
“Come for me,” Jac whispered in her ear.
That was all the permission Liz needed. “I’m coming…so good…” The
burn filled her belly and rushed down her thighs and up her torso and neck, combusting in a fireball in her head. Finding Jac’s mouth, she feasted on her tongue as the orgasm rolled on and on in waves of pleasure and exquisite relief.
That first orgasm had primed her. She usually came more than once, but not right away. Tonight she needed more. Again. Now. She released Jac’s mouth, panting from need and the heat. Sweat collected on their skin. Sweet fragrances encased them. She closed her eyes and dove into the sensations. “Take me. I need more.” She pumped her pelvis in a frenzy of jerky movements, seeking the perfect contact with Jac’s fingers. When she found it she sucked Jac’s blouse between her lips to keep from screaming as her clit clenched and rocketed pleasure through the same scorched pathways. She clutched at Jac’s back, frustrated by the clothes. Why was Jac still dressed? She tried to roll on top, but Jac resisted.
“Let me give you this.” Jac’s voice was rough and husky, but her lips were tender as she kissed Liz’s throat, across her collarbone, down to her breast.
She might have protested if not for the heat of Jac’s mouth surrounding her nipple, sucking hard, and her wet fingers mercilessly teasing her other nipple. “Your mouth. I want your mouth on me.” She pushed on Jac’s shoulders. “Please.”
Groaning, Jac slid between her legs and licked the inside of her thighs, stopping short of where Liz needed her.
Liz’s clit was full and aching for release, and she pushed in search of Jac’s tongue. “Don’t tease.” The tip of Jac’s tongue played against her and the pressure was too much, and too little, and she shivered. The pleasure of a lover’s touch. When Jac flattened her tongue and lapped the length of her clit, a groan worked its way from deep inside her. The orgasm took her up and then crashed her back down like a slap. She held Jac’s cheeks and lifted her mouth from her oversensitized flesh.
She floated as Jac kissed her softly on her inner thighs and labia. Her skin tingled. Her pulse beat a soothing rhythm through her body, spreading the aftereffects of the orgasms. Finally, she tugged on Jac’s shoulders, ready to be wrapped in the arms that always made her feel safe. She sighed as tension drained from her.
Jac lay on her back and gathered Liz against her. “Sleep, Liz. Sleep.” Her voice was like a lullaby.
She settled against Jac, drawing one thigh over her and draping an arm across her abdomen, her favorite way to sleep. Jac was still dressed, but Liz was too spent to do any more than scrunch the blouse into her fingers. Pretty blouse. “Thank you.” She nuzzled into the hollow at the base of Jac’s throat. “So good.”
“Sleep,” Jac said into her hair. “You’re safe.”
Liz woke into darkness as if from a fever. The smell of sex and Jac’s perfume shrouded her. More. She needed to touch and taste. She snaked her hand under Jac’s blouse and rubbed circles on her abdomen. Muscles tightened. When she tugged the zipper, Jac clasped her wrist.
“No.”
“I want to touch you.”
“Go back to sleep.”
She lifted her head, but Jac pulled it back to her shoulder. She touched Jac’s face. Her jaw muscles were clenched. “Why can’t I touch you?” Was there some physical reason?
“I just can’t,” Jac said, her voice tight and hard.
Tears came fast and hot. She’d asked for this, and Jac had given it to her. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment and she tried to sit up. Oh, God, what had she done? “I’m so sorry.” She had to get out of here. Suddenly Jac’s hands were everywhere—kneading, caressing, stroking. A scorching kiss catapulted her need into orbit again.
*
This night was not going to end yet. Not like this. Jac had what she wanted, had wanted, for months. If she hadn’t been in love with Liz she might have refused. But she was, and her slim grasp on control had shattered like a limb in the face of the storm that was Liz’s need. This was going to end badly. Liz would regret it no matter how much she’d pleaded for it. Anguish choked her. She could let Liz leave, but they had already crossed a line, and that truth would be there even if this went no further. With no good choice, she took what she couldn’t resist.
Jac kissed Liz and kept kissing her, swallowing her protests, until Liz softened under her and kissed her back. This one night was all she’d have, and she opened herself to the feel and smell and taste of Liz. Her skin burned and her heart pounded as she pressed her fingers to Liz’s opening and entered her, one finger, then another on the next stroke. Inside. Wet and slick and tight. As close as she could get. Mine, but only for tonight.
She memorized the tunnel that held her fingers—a soft, pulsing enclosure that responded to her intrusion by tightening and relaxing as she entered and withdrew. All too soon, the flesh encasing her fingers pulled tight around her, then threatened to expel her as Liz arched beneath her and came. Jac kissed her, cutting off Liz’s words she didn’t want to hear. Words lovers spoke. Words she feared were meant for another. Liz’s fingers played against her scalp and then stilled. Her breathing settled and her body relaxed. She was asleep.
Jac rolled off Liz, breathing hard, her clit pulsing and burning. The night was thick with the scent of sex and sweat and tropical flowers, heavy with heat and humidity. Liz’s wanton need had called to that deepest part of her she’d shut off a decade ago. She was dizzy with arousal, slick with sweat rolling down her sides and between her legs.
She unzipped her shorts and shoved them off. She lay on her back, against Liz’s side, and pulled her knees up, spreading them wide. Liz stirred. Please don’t wake up. She couldn’t let Liz touch her. She’d never know if Liz was imagining Teri. Her panties were soaked with the evidence of her desire, and she needed release. Now. Right now.
She put her hand inside her panties. Wetness everywhere. She cupped her sex and rubbed her clit, hard, then lightly, teasing herself as muscles in her legs and abdomen tensed. She touched her breast, imagining Liz was fondling her. Her breathing was ragged, and her clit was hard and aching for release, and still, she kept teasing herself.
Finally she couldn’t hold back any longer. She bit her lip as she came in her hand, flooding on her fingers, her clit twitching. Pleasure flowed through her like hot lava. Wetness dripped between her thighs, collecting in her crack. She was panting and the room was too hot. Fingers touched her groin. A shock. Her clit contracted and was Liz awake and damn this blindness and there was nothing she could do about anything as she came again. Liz’s hand stayed on her groin, but her breathing remained the even rhythm of sleep.
She closed her legs and clasped Liz’s hand. The ring. She’d never take it off. She’d never give Teri up. Jac lay awake in the never-ending dark, afraid to stay, unable to leave, trying to think of a single thing she could do to make this not end badly. Two hours later, she rolled onto her side and spent the next half hour memorizing Liz’s body, delicate touch by delicate touch, before this night crashed to its tragic finale.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Jac had never touched a lover without benefit of sight. Her hands imprinted a landscape of planes and curves, soft skin, the slow rise and fall of Liz’s abdomen, delicate curls above her sex, breasts that filled her palms. Liz’s forearms were striped with muscles. Jac stayed away from her hands and the ring. She feathered her fingers through Liz’s thick hair and held strands against her face, greedy to make a memory of every sensation. She put her palm to Liz’s cheek to fix the shape of her face in her mind, then laid it on her chest, over the pendant she’d given her, absorbing the rhythm of her heartbeat.
She fought the urge to wrap her arms around Liz, as if she could squeeze time so it didn’t move forward and take her from this moment. Her internal clock said it was near dawn, and she needed to leave before Liz woke. She couldn’t bear to be here when the tears and the guilt and the remorse came. She wouldn’t say things that weren’t wanted. She wouldn’t lose control. Not this time.
Carefully, she slid from the bed. She put on her shorts and straightened her blouse, then found Liz’s clothes
on the floor. She pressed the T-shirt against her face. A fusion of smells—sun and ocean and the new perfume. A reflection of this weekend. It took all her willpower to set it on the bed. Couldn’t she take a memento for the years to come when the memory of this weekend was all she had of Liz? She would be the reminder that Liz had betrayed Teri. She’d lose Liz. She’d lose playing music with her. She’d lose everything.
She leaned back against the door for a long time, aching for Liz, forcing herself not to crawl back next to her. Finally she walked to her parents’ bedroom and knocked. When the door opened she reached out and held tight. Her mom. “Take me for a drive? Please?”
Jac focused on the vibration of the car, the sound of the tires on the road, passing vehicles, the warm air coming through the open window, the rubber floor mat against her bare feet, the smooth leather of the seat under her thighs. Any sensation to replace Liz in her arms, under her hands, around her fingers. The night replayed itself in sensual detail as her mom drove, silent, except for the hand on Jac’s thigh, a comforting touch that she was grateful for.
Traffic noise was steady with the morning commute by the time Jac felt composed enough to talk. “I couldn’t stop it. I knew better, but I couldn’t say no.”
“You can’t take the blame.” Her mom’s voice was kind, but stern, and she squeezed Jac’s thigh.
“She was sad…her birthday, Teri’s…she was reaching for the familiar, for what she lost, for comfort.”
“She must have wanted to be with you.”
The blatancy of Liz’s need made her shudder. Her heart clenched itself into a hard fist. Had Liz been imagining Teri? “She’ll leave me. Just like…” Jac let out a long, sad breath.
