Where We Belong

by Fox Brison

  “I’ll need an amp?” Fuck it. Yes it was lavish but I couldn’t express how I felt about Brianna with words. Hopefully, this would show her how much she meant to me.

  “Of course, let me show you a few.” She guided me to a display in the back corner of the shop and it was a non-contest. One matched the slick lustre of the violin and it even owned its own set of stylized silver wings. I swear I could see them flapping in a non-existent breeze.

  “I’ll take them.”

  ***

  Brianna blustered into the cottage, and opening the door to the stove, stood with her hands virtually in the fire. “It’s bloody cold this evening!” she shivered.

  She could do with a touch of fat on those bones if she hopes to survive an Irish winter, I thought and then kicked myself for dreaming. I had spent several hours lying on the sofa alternating between gazing at the ceiling, which definitely needed painting, and my midriff, which was buff even if I did say so myself. In the middle of these two riveting activities I contemplated whether the violin said enough or if I should declare my feelings for Brianna out loud.

  “So.” I began. And faltered.

  “So?” she flopped down next to me. “Are we finally going to talk about that amazing kiss, or are you going to turn tail again?”

  “No more running.” My heart rate was comparable to that of a field mouse after being brought into the kitchen by a tom cat. Amazing kiss. She said amazing. Kiss. The kiss was amazing. What was once an impossible dream became a distinct possibility, and I was terrified.

  “I got you this.” I thrust the violin towards her. She opened the case and started to cry.

  Not quite the response I was hoping for.

  Chapter 34

  Brianna

  “Elisha, I… I…” Every time I started to speak, raw emotion sucked the words slowly back inside my mouth.

  “I knew it was too much. It’s fine I can return it.” She made a grab for the violin, but I stopped her.

  “No… it’s not. Well it is, it’s too generous, but I love it.” I wiped away my tears and kissed her cheek, rubbing out the pink lipstick mark I left with the pad of my thumb. Her skin was so soft and warm. “However, the way I’ve been behaving, I don’t deserve it.”

  “Brianna, you have been under immense pressure with the camp, which by the way if you weren’t here would still resemble one of those abandoned theme parks where nature has reclaimed what was rightfully hers,” she said disparagingly.

  I laughed at her description, a mixture of lingering sobs and chuckles, and sniffed up the last of my tears.

  “Plus,” she continued, “Let’s not discount the added emotion you must be going through trying to discover Maggie’s story. You were right, I should have insisted on coming to the hospital. I’m so ashamed I let you go through that alone. Will you forgive me?”

  “There’s nothing to forgive, I completely overreacted because… well anyway, suffice to say I went way OTT. Do you want a beer?” I asked, standing up.

  “Dutch courage, celebration, or I want to forget?” Elisha called as I walked into the kitchen.

  It was none of the above I simply needed a chance to compose myself. Returning to the living room, I handed Elisha her drink and took a sip of mine. “So can we talk about last night?” I smiled timorously and took her hand.

  “That kiss meant everything to me,” she whispered and looked up from the red label on the bottle, which she’d been nervously picking at. Her eyes were like targeting lasers and I couldn’t look away. “All I can think about is you,” she continued, “and I know you’re not into women and only see me as a friend, and I know it’s unfair of me, but I have to hear you say it so I can stop dreaming I might be wrong.”

  My heart suddenly screeched to a halt. “You are wrong,” I quickly asserted.

  “I am?” I didn’t miss the confusion swiftly followed by a sudden smile of recognition in her voice. “About what? I need you to say it, Bri.”

  Look before you leap is a proverb all project managers have printed on their chipped mugs, but this time I was taking a leap of faith. I hadn’t a clue what was on the other side, nor did I know how painful the fall would be. And as for the landing? Well it was either going to be on the softest of eiderdowns or a bed of nails, but I was going for it.

  Risk? Ha! I laugh in the face of risk.

  Our eyes locked. There was an intensity to it every bit as powerful as the kiss. “I don’t only see you as a friend and I am into women. Well I’m into you anyway,” I confessed.

  “You are? Into me?” Elisha could have put a six week old Labrador to shame with her expression of giddy hopefulness. This conversation was becoming the second most important one in my life. Although as I took stock…

  Make that the most important.

  “I am. Totally and utterly and completely.” Nobody had ever looked at me the way Elisha was now. She wasn’t undressing my body with her eyes, she was baring my soul. I took a deep breath and focussed on my new violin. Elisha knew me. She understood what was important to me.

  “Bri?”

  “Hmm?” I was lost.

  “Can I?” she hesitated and then stopped altogether.

  “Can you what?” Bashful Elisha was adorable. It reminded me of the first day we met. So much had happened since that morning at Knock Airport, but the sensation I felt then was the same as now. Butterflies. Had it been unrecognised love at first sight?

  “Can I kiss you again?”

  “Finally!” I stressed teasingly. “I was starting to think you’d never ask.” I eased into her arms and our lips met, briefly, a fleeting touch of moonlight on the lough. She moved back and I kept my eyes closed. Short and yet ever so sweet.

  “Oh God yes!” My breath snagged somewhere between my lungs and mouth in eager anticipation. When there was no follow up I opened my eyes and smiled nervously. Her gaze trailed over my body, a visceral tour where she absorbed every single cell. I gravitated towards her, desperate for her lips to possess mine once again. The turbulent emotion in her eyes was a reflection of the naked want in mine. Our lips grazed each other’s and I couldn’t resist the urge to trace their softness with my tongue.

  This drove Elisha wild and she claimed me.

  When we eventually called a truce on the passionate battle neither of us really wanted to give quarter too, she breathed against my mouth, “I don’t want to rush you.” It was as if she didn’t want to lose the link, afraid that by surrendering my lips we’d travel back in time and friendship would be all we’d share.

  “You’re not,” I stated unequivocally. There was a yearning inside me, and not because I was stewing in my own juices. No. The ache was in my heart, in my mind, in every nerve. This time our kiss didn’t start slow and gentle wasn’t an option. We found our rhythm, like two professional ballroom dancers. Slow, slow, quick, quick, achingly slow. Achingly beautiful. Achingly perfect.

  “Elisha.” I could feel my arousal, a brand spanking new sensation for me. And from merely kissing. Merely? There was nothing mere about Elisha’s lips.

  “Hmm?” she moved to nibble my neck.

  “Can we take this somewhere else?” I shivered, my nipples demanding her attention.

  “I don’t-” her brows furrowed, just a little, and she even tilted her head. She was definitely a Labrador pup in a previous life.

  “Into another room perhaps?”

  Still nothing, so I took her hand and led her to the bedroom.

  Chapter 35

  Elisha

  Once in her bedroom Brianna pushed me towards the bed and began removing her clothes, not in a ‘sexy stripper’ kind of way, or an exhibitionist ‘I’m way hot’ kind of way either. It was sweet and it was innocent.

  I could not have been hornier if Sara Lance was performing my own private burlesque show.

  She halted when she got down to her bra and panties, and nervously bit her bottom lip. Dear god everything she did tonight was a turn on. I couldn’t bear to drag my eyes awa
y from her body, she was exquisite; lean and willowy, for sure, with pert breasts that were a perfect size for my hands and mouth. Her pale skin was highlighted by the bright red lace underwear she wore and I wriggled trying to ease the pressure building in my jeans. She arched her eyebrows and I quickly gathered her meaning.

  Three seconds later I was in the same state of undress.

  It was her turn to examine me and I prayed to God she liked what she saw. Not even in my wildest fantasies (and boy did I have a shitload of those since meeting Brianna McAteer) did I expect this, so I was in a white sports bra and matching boy shorts. Mind even if I was expecting this I didn’t exactly have a drawer full of silk and lace underwear. Black? Yes. Red? A couple. Lacy thongs?

  Nu huh.

  Although from the flush covering Brianna’s skin, she didn’t look disappointed. “Leesh, I… I want this so bad… but…” she laughed shyly, “I’m nervous.”

  “Me too.” I stood up and took her in my arms. She nestled her head in the crook of my neck and the warmth of her body radiated into mine.

  “You are… really?”

  “Oh my God, are you kidding me? I haven’t felt like this since I stepped up to take a free thirty five yards out in the dying seconds of the club championship decider.”

  “That nervous, huh?” she twinkled.

  “Actually this is worse because this is far more important.” I noticed goosebumps appear on her arms, and I jammed down my aching desire in order to take care of her.

  Brianna’s needs would always come first in my world.

  “Come on, let’s get you into bed before you catch your death.” I climbed underneath the covers and lifted the duvet for Brianna to join me. She did so without the slightest hesitation, which I took as a good sign. I swept the beautiful blonde hair from her eyes and gently kissed her forehead. She melted into my embrace.

  Another good sign.

  “I want you, Bri, but not until you are ready. There’s no time limit, no rush. It’s just you and me.”

  She curled into my shoulder. Tracing her fingers lightly along my abs, every muscle in my body twitched. Christ I couldn’t help it. My clit was pulsing with every passing second, and I only hoped I could hold it together. “Does that feel good?” she asked, huskily.

  “Yes.” It was all I could manage to say, even though it was the understatement of the fucking century.

  “Your body is amazing, defined yet sleek. Like a Lioness.”

  A lioness? Okay I’d take that. “You remind me of an elven princess,” I murmured softly into her hair. “It was the first thought that popped into my head when I saw you at the airport. Stunning. Ethereal.”

  “What with my nose?” she scoffed.

  “Your nose is perfect, it’s you. It fits your face.” Shut up, Leesh, you sound like a pure dope.

  “Thanks,” I got a kiss on my shoulder for that. “If I’m the elven princess, does that make you my elven prince?”

  “Warrior,” I quickly corrected and she chuckled.

  “Hmmm, has somebody already thought this one through?”

  “Kinda,” I admitted sheepishly. Her fingers continued to explore, lazily trailing over my arms and down the side of my thigh.

  “Is this okay?”

  Okay? I was going to need a drip I was that turned on. But then I don’t think I was the only one. I heard the catch in every whispered word, felt the heat on her skin, smelled her musky scent of arousal.

  “I’d be happily to spend the entire night doing this,” she said so lowly I could barely hear the words, though the desire coursing rapidly south heard it clear as a bell.

  “We can do as little as you want… or as much as you want… or nothing at all,” I reiterated.

  “Nothing?” she asked but there was a definite roguish lilt to the question.

  I lifted her chin, I had to make it clear that I didn’t want a new toaster oven, I wanted the microwave, hob, dishwasher … I wanted the whole shebang.

  “This is me making a vow to you. I’m going nowhere. I want this, I want you and will wait for as long as it takes for you to feel ready, be that a week, month or even a year.”

  “A year?” she stuttered. “I’m not that nervous.”

  Taking my hand, she eased it into her panties. “Make love to me, Elisha,” she urged throatily. “I’m ready.”

  And was she ever.

  ***

  “Soooo,” I drawled.

  “Soooo?” Brianna mimicked.

  “Are you sure you haven’t been with a woman before.”

  “Nope. Virgin here,” she giggled. Damn that was cute. “Why?”

  “Because you have some serious skills.” And she did. Christ, did she ever. I had never, ever felt this sated.

  “I ate a lot of creme eggs when I was a kid,” she divulged matter-of-factly.

  “Huh?” I was confused.

  “I used to suck and lick the chocolate at the apex, maybe nibble a little until I could get my tongue inside.”

  Oh my God, it’s creme egg porn. I think someone has watched too much Nigella. “Comparing eating me out to scoffing a Cadbury Creme Egg? Not sexy, babe!” I bantered light heartedly because I actually found it sexy as hell.

  “Oh… oh no, I didn’t mean it to be…”

  She looked upset. Damn it, Leesh! “Bri, shhh, it’s okay, I was joking. Even if Harvey Weinstein walked in here naked I don’t think the mood could be killed,” I swore.

  “Right you, just for that your pet name is going to be creme egg from now on,” she laughed.

  And my pet name for her was going to be love of my life, lomf for short, but I didn’t say that out loud.

  Chapter 36

  Brianna

  Elisha was banging away in the kitchen, ostensibly making my breakfast, but more likely making a mess. I lay back against the pillows and sighed.

  God I felt good.

  Last night was not only a revelation but an affirmation too, and it highlighted in bright Technicolor why sex had never been important, why sex had never quite clicked for me before now. Sated, I purred like a well fed pussy. It clicked now, boy oh boy, how it clicked now. I had been dreaming about being intimate with Elisha for months, but clearly my imagination sucked because it was so far beyond anything I’d worshipped in the midnight hour.

  Elisha claimed me.

  She claimed my mouth, her hands claimed my body and her hips rocking frantically against mine claimed my very soul. She was perfect in every single way and managed to not only make me cum like never before, but also feel special, loved and treasured.

  She even made me feel incredible after suffering the humiliation of an orgasm barely two minutes into her sucking on my nipples.

  She took it as a compliment. “Rock star,” I snickered at the memory of her absurd posturing. We spent the next several hours wringing orgasms from one another until we were both totally spent and I possibly passed out through pleasure.

  “Do you have anything planned for the next three hours?” Elisha asked when she placed the tray with a full Irish and mug of coffee on my lap. It was a strange question, even though in my head I heard, ‘Do you have anything planned for the rest of your life?’

  “Apart from remaining magnificently naked and having rampant sex? No.” I teased.

  “I’ve created a monster,” she groaned with a self-satisfied smirk.

  “Awakened the monster,” I argued good naturedly. My feelings for her had unlocked the cage, and now I knew what it was to be free, to be alive. I was in a state of one hundred percent contentment, and it wasn’t just down to the 2018 Sexual Olympics heptathlon for which we had been awarded ten point zero across the board in style marks, and gained the gold medal to rapturous applause accompanied by a plethora of ‘oh my gods’ and a myriad of ‘yes, baby, yes, just theres.’

  “It’s a glorious day and it’s a shame not to take advantage of the warm weather, it doesn’t come around too often.”

  The only thing I wanted to take advant
age of was her. “Mmhmm,” I said. “Go on.” It came out throatily and her eyes darkened, flashing a tempestuous grey that I had grown to recognise.

  She coughed and growled. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I asked innocently.

  “You know what!” she chided with a chuckle. “I was thinking a picnic? I could make sandwiches.”

  “Doorsteps,” I said, knowing the bread would be an inch thick, as would be the slices of ham and cheese slapped in between them. Nothing wafer thin for my Irish farm girl!

  ***

  We rode half way up the mountain on Elisha’s quad bike, and climbed for another twenty minutes or so until we were standing next to a glorious waterfall. After all the recent rain, the water rumbled and bellowed down the craggy outcrop, before plummeting thunderously into a fine spray at the bottom. In the valley it eased into a small river of white rapids tumbling over rocks and around generous curves that rivalled Rita Ora’s.

  Magnificent.

  We set up in a spot away from the mist so as not to get wet (I didn’t need any help in that department, not now anyway) and Elisha placed a blanket on the ground. She pulled sandwiches, crisps and two apples out from her battered rucksack, and then we talked about growing up, our friends, our lives before we met. After a while she helped me to my feet, and we took our first selfie together, a landmark moment in modern times.

  “Elisha, I was wondering, the next bank holiday weekend…”

  “Yes?” she elongated the word.

  “Because it’s slap bang in the middle of our birthdays, what would you say to a night away somewhere?” I asked.

  “It sounds like a plan, so let’s make one,” she winked because it was no secret that I loved my schedules and plans. “This year something small. Galway’s always great craic.”

  “Oh perfect,” I chirped happily.

  “And next year we’ll have three things to celebrate, so maybe we can go a little bigger. Paris.” She lifted her eyebrows questioningly.

  “Three things?” I asked.

  “Your birthday, my birthday, cos we’re practically twins, and our first anniversary.”