Dr. Turner let out a heavy sigh and flapped his lips. "Good luck finding something else," he said sarcastically, turning toward his computer monitor.
There was a moment of tense silence and for the first time since I'd started walking, I didn't know what came next. "Do I talk to the HR rep?"
Dr. Turner waved his hand at me. "They'll be in touch. Just write a formal resignation and clean out your desk. You can leave."
Stunned by the finality of it, I nodded. "Okay."
I stood there for a moment more before I turned slowly and walked from Turner's office back to my desk for the last time.
I had set up too many candles for the occasion. I just wanted Faye to have a good experience being with me. It felt weird to fall back on such a trope, but my usual game — my over-the-top act — wasn't going to work on her. I'd purposely chosen to wear a flowery sundress for our night, mostly because a sundress was something Violet would never wear. I had to be real, and I associated sundresses and candles with being real for some reason.
Or maybe it was because that was what I'd been wearing with Damon for our first time ten years ago, when he set up dozens of candles like I had just done.
That was definitely it. As I looked around the room, I started to panic. I didn't want being with Faye to remind me of Damon.
The air in the room started feeling hot, probably because of those dumb candles. I bent over to blow the nearest one out, not thinking that extinguishing so many flames at once would fill the room with smoke and make it smell weird when it was supposed to be romantic. I had just blown one out when the doorbell rang.
Shit.
She was here already. I didn't have time to clean up the overdone, sappy gesture that she'd probably laugh at. Resigned to looking ridiculous, I picked up my keys and trudged down the stairs to let her in.
When I opened the door I barely had a second to greet her before she was pressed gently against me, hugging me and giving me a kiss on the lips, then on the cheek.
"Hey, sweetie," she said. Something about her voice made me feel like she knew how nervous I was. I didn't want her to know that. I was supposed to know what I was doing in bed with a girl.
We walked upstairs quietly and I cringed, dreading her reaction to all the candles. They felt so impersonal. Was there a way to make candles personal? I hadn't figured out how to make most things about sex personal.
I avoided looking at her face as we walked inside, but when I heard her footsteps stop, I had to look. Instead of an amused grin, I just saw a look of gentle happiness.
"It's beautiful, Riley."
I gave her a bashful smile as she unbuttoned her coat and took off her shoes, settling into my house. As I saw her standing there in her relaxed t-shirt and jeans, I started to relax too.
"Can I get you a drink?" I offered. I needed something to do other than standing there wondering what the next step was.
Her eyes sparkled in the soft light. "Maybe some water.”
I nodded and went into the kitchen, filling a glass with ice and water. I brought it out to her and found her sitting on the couch, long sleeves pushed up to her elbows, legs crossed as though we were about to start a movie rather than a night of frightening lovemaking.
I reminded myself that it didn't have to be frightening. Faye wasn't a frightening person.
"How was your day?" she asked.
I shrugged. "Okay. I started looking into selling my car."
"Oh?" she asked, raising her eyebrows over her glass.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I don't want all that debt hanging over me right now."
"You're still making good money, though, right?"
"Yeah," I said hesitantly. I didn't want to think about work right now. "But not Beamer good. I don't want to be impractical."
Faye swallowed and nodded, setting her glass on the table.
There was silence and I wondered what came next. Did I kiss her? Get up and walk into the bedroom? Start taking off my clothes?
She seemed to know I was anxious, because she took my hand and squeezed. "It's okay, babe. Just relax."
Embarrassed that my anxiety was so apparent, I looked down.
"How about a massage?" Faye offered.
I shifted and nodded, but then was faced with more questions. Was this a shirt-on massage? A bra-on massage? A topless massage? Was this just foreplay in disguise?
Faye seemed to know I was still confused, because she turned toward me and gestured for me to face away from her. Her hands went to my shoulders and gently kneaded in, seizing and working out the tension I was holding there. I took deep breaths, trying to focus on her hands and how they felt on me. They were delicate and real and attached to someone I adored.
Maybe if I stayed with that thought, I'd stay present.
Faye's hands worked deeper and harder into me, helping me let go. She squeezed and kneaded, and I got more and more relaxed, never forgetting it was her touching me.
"Feel good?"
"Yeah," I said, clearing my throat of the phlegm that had gathered there as I'd relaxed. "You're good at that."
I could feel Faye smiling as she squeezed again. "Thank you," she murmured.
And then I felt her lips on the side of my neck.
I tensed. This was where I was prone to check out and go into work mode.
I focused on her lips and how they fit against my skin, making me tingle.
Her lips moved forward and her hands slid down from my shoulders to my waist. The way she held me was so delicate and feminine and made me feel small and precious. I hadn't felt small or precious in a long time. I melted back into her, twisting my head around so I could meet her lips. When I did, I felt something let go. I wasn't going to follow a script or a character. I was just going to be naked, as terrifying as that was, and see what happened.
After a minute of kissing with her hands gently mapping my stomach, I pulled away. "Want to go in my room?"
She nodded and we got up, taking a few candles with us as we left the living room.
In the dim golden glow of my room, I was still nervous. But I realized with delight that I had never been Violet in my bedroom. I'd taken a few phone calls from Dr. Turner here, and I'd ordered enough work shoes to fill my closet, but I had never done any physical work as Violet in my own room. Maybe this could be the one safe place where I would always be Riley. If I had at least one place, maybe there was hope for me.
Standing in the middle of the room together, Faye and I gave each other bashful smiles. In all my anxiety, I had forgotten this was new to her too. Wanting to do my part to be brave, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her. She exhaled and we started kissing again.
Girl kisses are some of the most delicate, passionate, delightful things on earth. They can soothe and excite and promise and demand in the space of a second. Faye's kisses did exactly that, and when I felt her hands roaming to find the hem of my dress, the excitement only mounted.
As she fumbled around the hem of my dress before snaking her hands up over my thighs and onto my stomach, I heard myself giggling. Her lips pressed a smile into my neck before she said, "What's funny?"
"You're tickling me," I mumbled.
At that, she purposely dug her fingers into my skin, causing me to wriggle away from her as I laughed.
"Don't," I giggled.
But she didn't listen, only wiggling her fingers more. I pulled away further and her hands slid out from under my dress. I looked at her and saw her eyes sparkling and remembered why I was doing this.
Somewhere in the mess of working at Jez, I'd forgotten how exciting sex could be when it was with someone as wonderful as Faye. I'd forgotten the innocence and joy that could exist between two people when no money was exchanged. Sex could be wonderful and meaningful every time if I let it.
And so I did.
I reached out for her hand and tugged her toward me, tackling her playfully onto the bed. She let out a shriek of objection and laughed, trying to tickle me as I rolled on top
of her and kissed her neck in the most ticklish spot. We were all smiles and happy gasps as we settled against the sheets, limbs entwining as our lips met again, happiness spreading through us.
As we kissed and kissed, I felt her hands snaking under my dress again, and without fear, I helped her lift it over my head. Then I kissed down her neck into her cleavage, over her shirt to where our playing had exposed the soft skin of her abdomen. I kissed it and looked up to see her smiling at me. She nodded, and I lifted my hands to unbutton her pants. It was so easy for her to relinquish control. I was jealous of that.
As I coaxed Faye's pants down her hips and thighs, I got nervous again. She wasn't wearing a sequined thong or leather g-string. She was wearing plain cotton panties, dark grey, with no lace or pattern. There was no pretense or show. She was just there, her skin flawed and warm, twin freckles framing the elastic of her panties. It was so innocent and real, I started to get self-conscious.
I was wearing underwear that were a little flashier. Nothing I'd wear at work, but as I thought about it, I realized I'd worn them to Dr. Turner's once. I hated that. I hated it so much that I immediately stopped what I was doing and took off my underwear. I didn't want any shred of charade to be here with me. I had agreed to try something new, no matter how terrifying. By wearing that stupid red silk, I'd already broken my promise to Faye.
But Faye either didn't realize or forgave me silently. She just smiled and waited for me to get back to removing her pants. Once I did, I took a deep breath, inhaling the scent I'd been too vocal about enjoying. And I did enjoy it. She smelled good. But I couldn't talk to her the way I'd grown accustomed at work. So I decided to be quiet and make an effort to make eye contact.
But the danger of not talking was that I wouldn't have any feedback from her. Nervous, I slid up to face her and told her with my eyes and unsteady breath that I was trying hard. I studied her eyelashes, their thin coat of mascara so different from the false eyelashes and caked on glitter of the other girls I'd been with in recent months. Being here with her now, I didn't feel like I'd actually been with those other girls. I'd just pretended to be with them for money.
When she met my gaze, she smiled in a way that told me she had faith in me. I tried to smile back, but it was shaky. I kissed her, hoping to bury my anxiety in her lips, hoping she could give me some of her calm certainty. It was amazing that she could be so soothing when this was so new to her.
I kissed her deeply as I removed the rest of her clothing. She struggled for a moment with the clasp of my bra, and I held still, trying to encourage her. When she still hadn't unsnapped it after a full minute of trying, I said, "Want help?"
She let out a soft giggle. "No, I should be able to do this…" Just then the first hook released, and after a few more moments of tugging and pinching, the second followed. She let out a satisfied sigh and pulled the garment away from me.
And then we were both naked. There was no more preceding ritual.
"Do you want me to go first?" she asked.
It struck me as a funny question. I didn't know if she was asking if I wanted to receive first or give first, but regardless, I had never thought about it. For the last year, I'd always gone first because it was my job to do what the customer wanted.
"Whatever you want," I said.
Faye bit her lip and shook her head. "Don't say that."
I'd only said one thing, and it had been the wrong thing. Faye wasn't a customer. She didn't want me to defer to her. She wanted me to have a voice when it came to pleasure.
"I'm not used to receiving," I admitted.
Faye nodded and adjusted her shoulders on the pillow.
"Okay," she murmured. I saw a flicker of anxiety in her eyes before she asked, "What do you like?"
My mind drew a blank. I was so steeped in every shade of sexuality and fetish, I had lost my sense of self.
There were a few things I knew I liked. Things I hadn't gotten in earnest in years. But it felt like a big request when faced with the need to say it out loud.
"Mouth," I mumbled.
Faye swallowed.
"We can work up to that," I said quickly. "We should start with fingers."
Faye paused for a minute before rolling me gently onto my back.
"Let me try," she said quietly.
Somehow, that one breathy whisper got my heart pounding so loud I was certain she could hear it.
I took a deep breath and nodded. This was about surrendering to the terrifying.
She kissed down my neck and across my collarbone, mouth dainty and soft as her hands ran up and down my sides. She hesitated before running her hands up to my breasts. Then, experimentally, she gave a gentle pinch to my nipples. I jerked, my pulse rushed, and I felt my center warm and throb.
"Good?" she asked, as though the little jerk of my body wasn't proof enough.
I nodded and fought my impulse to close my eyes while her hands ran over me.
She placed her hands on my hips, framing the work before her. I saw her study between my legs, and it dawned on me that she probably hadn't seen many girl parts up close. I had seen so many, and it struck me as odd that I didn't know what Faye looked like as well as I knew the girls at work. I wanted to know her better.
Distracted by my thoughts, I was surprised when Faye fit her mouth to me. She didn't hold back; it wasn't a delicate, stiff swipe of the tongue. Her whole, hot, wet mouth pressed into me, and I felt the air sucked out of my lungs. My whole body curved toward her, contracting as I let out a gasp of pure surprise and arousal.
She felt so, so good on me, I lost every bearing I had.
"Oh my god," I gasped.
Faye ran her soft tongue through me for a moment before drawing back an inch to ask, "Like that?"
I gave a desperate nod and tilted my head back, adjusting myself on the mattress. "Yeah, like that."
Pleased with herself, Faye returned to licking through me until I was trembling and gasping. I found myself trying to hold my breath in an effort to not start talking like I did in the Private Pleasures Booth. I didn't want to accidentally make a single fake moan or whine or grunt. I was quiet, except for my erratic breathing.
When I reached a plateau, she stopped licking, and I tilted my head to look down at her. She had her eyebrows raised, asking me what she should do differently.
Realizing that we were learning to talk without words, I reached for her hand and directed it between my legs. Her fingers hovered at my opening, and I waited patiently, desperately, for her to pluck up the courage to slide them inside. As she did, I felt her exhale against my thigh.
"You're so warm," she noted, as though she hadn't expected it.
"Your fault," I gasped, shifting my hips impatiently.
She got the hint and started sliding in and out. She looked up at me, asking if I liked what she was doing. It was a bit mechanical, but rather than tell her it wasn't working, I lifted my hand and made a beckoning motion with two fingers.
"Do this," I said.
Immediately her motion changed inside me, and I felt my body pick up again. I was just about to tell her to move a fraction of an inch to the left when she figured it out herself. My body surged as she hit the magic spot, and I sucked in air. She smiled, pleased with herself.
"That's so cool," she whispered.
I started panting and had to focus on not writhing while she was half draped on top of me. She drew me up and up and up. I felt good, but I wasn't quite there. I didn't know what the magic trick would be. She kept moving her fingers inside me, determined and seemingly unfatigued as the minutes wore on. I grew self-conscious about how long it was taking me.
"Sorry," I mumbled. "It doesn't usually take so long."
"Don't be sorry," Faye murmured. "We've got all night."
Somehow, it was the perfect thing to say. As she lowered her mouth back to my center, the last bit of anxious tension fell from my chest. Her patience and fascination helped me relax just enough that after a few more minutes I felt my
self start to free-fall. She kept moving and licking until I was completely rigid, locked in ecstasy with her head trapped between my legs. I was coming harder than I'd expected to. When my breath broke, I cursed.
Realizing my swearing could alienate her and make her feel like a customer, I grew worried. Even mid-release, I was on alert. But I felt her smile against me, and I knew she was happy. I came down, exhausted and limp as I panted, reaching down to move her head and still her hand. When I met her gaze, her chin was shiny and her smile looked almost drunk.
I had never seen her so pleased with herself or looking so deliciously naughty.
"C'mere," I panted, tilting my chin up a fraction of an inch.
She was all too eager to crawl up my body and press against me.
"Good?" she asked.
It was a silly question. She knew she'd done well.
"Really good," I assured her.
She wrapped her arm over my shoulder and drew me onto my side, curled into her.
"You were good too," she assured me.
I was used to being complimented on a superficial level for my services, but hearing Faye tell me I was good was different. I almost felt like crying with relief. She was telling me I hadn't slipped into being Violet for long enough that she'd noticed. I smiled and exhaled in relief against her, body calming as she held me closer.
A few minutes later I pulled back, looking at her impishly. I was a little nervous about being able to reciprocate and stay authentic, but since I'd had an orgasm, I was relaxed enough that my anxiety was almost undetectable. She gave me a reassuring smile and received every kiss and caress I gave her with utmost grace and gratitude. If she was nervous, it came across as excitement.
I wrapped my arms fully around her back and held her close to me as I kissed over her neck and breasts. I didn't say a word, but paused to look at her face every few minutes. When I saw no hesitation or sadness or disappointment, I slid my thigh between her legs and gently pressed in, feeling how hot and wet she was, waiting for any tension or fear to surface. When I felt her cant up into me, I slid back and looked in her eyes as I slipped my fingers through and into her. While I would have loved to fit my mouth to her and taste her like before, I thought my best chance of staying real and present was to be near her beautiful face and see the way it shifted and reacted to my touches. As I stroked through her, I was mesmerized by her expressions. Her eyes flickered back into her head a couple times, and her mouth parted lazily when she was rolling through a current of arousal.
Wherever the Dandelion Falls Page 45
