by J. T. Marie
Softly, I say, “I’m not who you think I am.”
Her voice is as low as mine. “Who do you think I think you are?”
“Nat Allen. But that isn’t me.” I shrug out of my duster jacket and drape it over the back of the chair in the corner. I take off my hat, which I had forgotten about in my haste to scurry up the stairs unseen. I pull the hem of my shirt out of my dungarees and start unbuttoning it from the bottom up.
Miss Lucille’s gaze never leaves my fumbling fingers. “Who are you, then?”
When the shirt is unbuttoned all the way, I take it off and toss it aside. Now I stand in a pair of men’s pants and a worn undershirt. My small breasts bulge against it, giving away my secret. Still, I need her to know. I need there to be no doubt. So I pull the undershirt off over my head and feel my nipples harden as I bare them before her.
Dropping the undershirt to the floor, I tell her, “The Nat stands for Natalie. I’m not a man. That’s why I can’t marry you.”
For a long moment, Miss Lucille says nothing. Her lips are pursed, her eyes dry now, her color faded from the bright red of anger to a more natural peach. I wait for her to scream or cry or yell at me, to denounce me, to curse me. I know it’s coming. It has to come.
But still she says nothing. As the minutes stretch out between us, my arms pimple from the chill in the room but I don’t move. I want her to see me, the real me, the me she’d never choose to love.
Finally she sighs. It’s a soft sound, not forlorn or angry but relieved. “Oh Nat,” she says, standing to reach for me. Her hands caress mine, then take my wrists and pull me closer. Slowly she smiles up at me. “Why do you think I fell for you in the first place?”
I frown at her, confused. “Wait, you knew?”
Her fingers tickle along my arms, into the crooks of my elbows, and up over my biceps. There she rubs my shoulders, then traces my clavicle to the dimple at the base of my throat. “I suspected,” she says softly, her words low between us. “The first time I saw you, I had to look twice. I thought, why’s that lady wearing pants? Is Daddy hiring women now to tend to the cattle?”
Gently she trails her hands down the center of my chest, then spreads them out to cup my breasts. My nipples harden again in her palms, twin nuggets stiffened by her touch. When she squeezes slightly, I gasp as pleasure shoots through me. My arms come up around her waist to keep her close. “Lucy…”
“I watched you for a long time,” she murmurs. “The more Daddy pressured me to marry, the more I railed against him, but I knew it was inevitable. If I didn’t choose someone, then someone would be chosen for me. Some man I’d have no interest in, some man who’d want to bed me and run my ranch. Eventually I realized I didn’t want some man. I want you.”
My flesh burns beneath her touch, my blood aflame, my heart rising like a phoenix from the hope her words stir within me. Still, I can’t help pointing out, “You can’t marry a woman.”
“You’re only a woman to me, Nat. No one else knows. No one else needs to know.” Miss Lucille massages my breasts, awakening in me something I’ve never felt before. Lust, and passion, and love. “Whatever fabric it is we’re made of, you and I are cut from the same cloth. I love you, Nat Allen. Natalie. I do. And you can refund your train ticket tomorrow and stay here and marry me, or you can buy a second one, and I’ll go with you, wherever it is you want to go. But you aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”
I pull her close and lean down to kiss her, only to find her already stepping up on her toes to meet me halfway. Our mouths press together with a tenderness that takes my breath away, and as she wraps her arms around my neck to keep me near, I know I’m never going to let her go.
THE END
ABOUT J.T. MARIE
J.T. Marie is a pseudonym for author J.M. Snyder, who publishes gay erotic and romantic fiction under her full name. A graduate of George Mason University, Marie worked as Fantasy Editor of the school’s sci-fi and fantasy journal, The Fractal, for two years. After college, she created and maintained an online webzine, Disenchanted, to further a love of fantasy fiction. For more information on her non-gay fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, please visit jtmarie.com.
ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC
JMS Books LLC is a small electronic press specializing in gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender fiction (including erotica, romance, and young adult), as well as popular and literary fiction, nonfiction, and poetry. While our preference is for GLBT stories, we accept stories containing any and all sexualities, as well as general fiction without a romantic subplot. Visit our site at jms-books.com for our latest releases and submission guidelines!
