Any Other Love

by Elizabeth Barone

  Amarie sighed. Imagining was fun, but she couldn’t wait ‘til the real thing.

  Her other hand trailed down, through the valley between her breasts, along the round slope of her belly. Part of her was nervous about completely baring it all to Char. She’d never exactly loved the fullness of her belly or the stretch marks at her thighs and breasts. Letting another person see all of her imperfections was more terrifying than anything else.

  More terrifying than falling in love without knowing whether her feelings would be returned.

  She pushed the thought away. It wasn’t the time to consider feelings. She could think about them and put them into order later. Her hand stopped at the hood above her clitoris. She reached between the folds of glistening skin, the pad of her finger finding the little bundle of nerves. Over the years, she’d seen some truly beautiful clits—some of them even large enough to take into her mouth and suck on. Hers, though, was tiny—so small that most of the men she’d dated had never been able to find it.

  But she knew where it was.

  Pressing with the three longest fingers of her hand, she rubbed her clit, then glided up and down the slit of her vulva. With each stroke, she rolled closer to the edge. She paused at her entrance, her middle finger teasing the sensitive, wet skin. Her favorite part was always that first moment of penetration, of skin surrounding skin in three-hundred-and-sixty degrees of intimacy. It didn’t matter whether the person she was with was male, female, or otherwise. That first point of contact was the sweetest, possibly sweeter than any romance.

  Damn, she loved sex.

  Though she actually had no self-control, she teased herself just a moment longer. Her hand trailed back up along the warm, wet folds of skin, back to her clit. Against her will, her body arched into her hand, begging. She imagined herself making Charlotte arch off the bed, and grinned.

  Yes, those moments by herself were only the appetizer before the main course.

  Slick fingers slid down to her entrance, then pushed inside. Her eyes fluttered closed and she suppressed a moan. She slid her middle finger in all the way, pushing hard against her G-spot—another place that most men couldn’t find. It was simple, really, if they cared enough to pay attention.

  Before she could complete the first stroke, though, her phone rang. Its shrill tone cut through the haze of her lust. Breathing hard, she withdrew and rolled onto her side. She scanned the name on the screen, then scowled.

  Sitting up, she grabbed the phone and pressed it to her ear. “Yeah?” Her center tingled, a dull ache begging for more.

  “Hey,” Lucas said.

  “What do you want?” The words came out harsher than she’d meant them to. She sighed.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, “but I just wanted to run something by you.”

  “It’s okay,” she said gently. Sliding off the bed, she moved into the bathroom to wash her hands. The air conditioning swirled around her, raising goosebumps and making her nipples so hard, they hurt. There was only one cure: Char’s hot mouth on them.

  She shivered, wondering if it was possible to have an orgasm based on mental images alone.

  “I don’t know if you heard, but I got into the dorms at Southern,” Lucas said, reminding Amarie that she was no longer really alone.

  She cleared her throat. “Oh? That’s cool.” Her eyebrows furrowed. He hadn’t needed to tell her that. She turned on the hot water and pumped soap into her hands, cradling the phone between her ear and a shoulder.

  “Yeah, so, Matt’s gonna move in with his girl, and we were kinda thinking . . . Well, our place is gonna be empty.”

  Drying her hands on a towel, she resumed holding the phone. “Okay?” She wasn’t sure what else to say. He didn’t have to tell her any of these things. They were over. Though their breakup hadn’t exactly been pretty, she didn’t have any hard feelings toward him. As far as she was concerned, they could just go their separate ways—no need to talk about what had happened.

  “It’s a cute apartment,” Lucas said.

  “It is,” she agreed, “but why are you telling me this? I mean, I guess I’m happy for you. I know you wanted to live on campus.” Her lips twisted to the side. Once upon a time, her plan had been to transfer to Southern, too, and get her Bachelor’s in elementary education. She’d even been considering getting her Master’s, possibly in reading. Then she’d gotten sick, and all of her plans had been dashed. “Why did you call me, Lucas?”

  “I’m sorry. Am I upsetting you?”

  She shrugged into a bathrobe, then sat on the edge of the bed. “No. It’s not you.” She sighed. “I’m just thinking.”

  “You think too much sometimes.”

  Anger flared in her belly. “Yeah, and you never thought enough.”

  “True.” He exhaled into the phone. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.

  “Yeah, well. It’s water under the bridge.”

  “That’s actually why I’m calling you,” he said.

  “To rehash our failed relationship and my prematurely ended education?”

  “Come on, girl,” Lucas said with a sigh. “You know you can still have anything you want.”

  “Really?” She stood from the bed, pacing in front of the window. “You mean like my job? Like how Dunkin Donuts and I ‘mutually’ decided I should leave? Luckily I got hired at the school shortly after.” Tears burned at her eyes.

  “I know it’s hard,” he said gently, “but your life isn’t over, either. That’s why I’m calling, actually.”

  Though he couldn’t see her face, she arched an eyebrow at him. “What are you talking about?”

  “The apartment,” he said. “It’s gonna be empty.”

  “That’s great,” she shot back. “What does that have to do with me?”

  “Damn, girl. You make my head spin sometimes. You and Char are together, right?”

  She stopped pacing. “No. Well, sort of. What are you getting at?”

  “Amarie, it’s a well known fact that you two are going to get married and be like the damned Fosters on TV. So take your girl and take that apartment.”

  “Lucas.” She suppressed a giggle. She hadn’t realized he paid that much attention to the shows she watched. “It’s not that simple. I can’t just get down on one knee and ask Char to move in with me.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because we’ve only known each other for like a year. We’re not even together,” she insisted. Maybe she should sit down with her feelings, she mused.

  “Aren’t y’all at a hotel together?”

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly.

  “And sharing a bed?”

  “Lucas!”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just saying, not everything has to come with a grand announcement. If you wanna be together, just be together. Move into the apartment. Turn that second bedroom into a cute little office. Go be happy.”

  She blinked. “Lucas . . . I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just say you’ll pick up the keys from Matt when you get back.”

  She pressed her lips together, not sure whether it could be so simple. There were Charlotte’s feelings to consider. Besides, Char had only just moved in with her best friend. Amarie doubted she would be willing to move out so soon.

  “Thanks,” she told Lucas. “I’ll think about it.” She hung up before he could keep going. Flopping back onto her bed, she stared at the ceiling. It was time to think about those damned feelings.

  The card reader in the door beeped and the door swung open. Charlotte strolled in, humming an old Perpetual Smile song Amarie recognized from the radio. “Hi,” she called out.

  So much for figuring out her heart.

  “Hey,” Amarie responded. As she turned toward the door, her robe fell off one shoulder. It was just as well. Her body throbbed with an aching need for Char’s kisses on her lips, Char’s hands on her skin.

  “Hi,” Char said again. She remained standing in the small entryway. “Are you naked
under that?”

  “Yes,” Amarie said softly.

  “I’m sorry. I mean—wait. You are?” Pink tinged the tip of Char’s nose and her cheeks.

  Amarie suppressed a laugh. The more flustered Char became, the cuter she was. “I am. Want to join me?” She held out her hands.

  Char nodded. She kicked off her boots as she walked toward the bed. Then she took Amarie’s hands in hers and climbed onto the mattress.

  Releasing one of Char’s hands for a moment, Amarie reached for her phone. Pushing the switch down, she shut the ringer off. “No more interruptions.” She took Char’s face in her hands and kissed her.

  Up until that moment, their kisses had been slow and sweet, longing with desire but tentative. There was nothing leisurely about their kisses anymore. Amarie parted Char’s lips with hers, thrusting her tongue inside. She laced herself around Char, enjoying the sweet, cool taste of her mouth.

  As her hands tugged the hem of Char’s shirt up over her belly, Char’s hands yanked the bathrobe untied. They broke the kiss long enough to shed layers, cotton and denim flying off bodies and pooling onto the floor. Then they knelt on the mattress, face to face, bare to each other.

  Amarie sucked in a deep breath through her nose. Char could see it all—every single scar, stretch mark, and imperfection. Her breasts rose up and down with her ragged breaths. She swallowed hard, one corner of her mouth quirking.

  But Charlotte merely smiled. She cupped one of Amarie’s hips. “I like this bold side of you,” she said in a low voice. With her other hand, she tucked a stray strand of red hair behind her ear.

  “What, the naked side?” Amarie reached for Char’s cheek, her hand feathering along the tender skin.

  “Yes,” Char said, “especially the side of you that lets me see it.”

  To keep her from saying anything else, Amarie pressed a finger to Char’s lips. She tugged her into her arms, their bodies colliding and lips melting into an ebb and flow, give and take. “I want you,” she said as she gently nudged Char onto her back.

  “You’ve got me.”

  Heart thudding against her sternum, Amarie kissed her way down Char’s neck. Into each kiss she poured her storm of emotions. What she felt for Char threatened to knock her off her feet, carrying her away in a riptide. As intense as her feelings were, they didn’t scare her.

  They awed her.

  Her lips trailed searing kisses down Char’s sternum, then over the soft mound of a pale breast. Its pink nipple pointed erectly at the ceiling. Glancing up at Char, she ran the palms of her hands over the supple flesh. Then her lips parted and she took a nipple and a mouthful of pliant flesh inside of her.

  Char moaned, her head tipping back against a pillow. Amarie grinned. Her tongue flicked along the pink pebble while her hand skimmed down Char’s ribs, over a hip, and across a thigh to her sex.

  Just as she’d done to herself earlier, Amarie tracked down the delicate nub hiding in the folds between Char’s legs. She ran a thumb over it, and Char’s thighs trembled as her entire body shuddered.

  “I should warn you,” Char said, “I have really sensitive skin.”

  “Good.” Amarie watched Char’s face as her tongue darted out, flicking at the sweet pebble of flesh. The other woman went limp, slumping back against the pillows. “Good girl.” She took her time, kissing and sucking, pouring the certainty and excitement that she felt into each act. She was going to make Char feel as good as Char made her feel, she decided.

  Her tongue licked along the length of Char’s entrance, lapping her up like cream. “You taste so good,” she murmured into the folds.

  “Oh my God,” Char whimpered. “Get up here.” She hauled Amarie up to her, their lips instantly locking. Then she broke the kiss, her eyes latching onto Amarie’s with a question.

  Amarie let her guide her hips until their bodies notched, one of Char’s legs wrapped around her hip, their hot cores pressed together. She rolled her hips, letting her body do the work, her eyes on Char’s the entire time.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Char whispered. “Let me know if this is too much.”

  She nodded. It might be. There had been plenty of times when her hips had locked during sex, subluxating painfully to the point where she couldn’t move. She wasn’t going to let that fear stop her, though.

  She pressed her body tighter to Char’s, leaned down, and kissed her girl.

  Having sex with another woman always blew her away. Not because she knew other women’s bodies almost as well as she knew her own, but because there were so many ways to give pleasure. Every time was an adventure.

  Her first time with Char would be special, but so would every other time.

  For more than one reason, even.

  Willing her body to cooperate, she pivoted her hips. Hot skin slid against Char’s. Already she neared the edge.

  “Oh,” Charlotte moaned.

  With the swipe of a thumb, she rolled her girl’s clit under her finger as she ground against her. She loved being on top, loved being able to control how good Char felt. Being able to make Char come for her.

  Amarie knelt on top of her, bringing Char’s leg up over her shoulder, lifting her hips off the bed. She thrust harder against her, rubbing her clit against Char’s. Her curls hung loosely around her breasts, flesh bouncing.

  “Come here.” Char wound an arm around her, drawing her closer until they were chest to chest. “I want to hold you when you come.” Another arm wrapped around Amarie.

  As Char’s words hit her, she slid over the edge. Her thighs trembled as shocks coursed through her. Reaching for the back of Char’s neck, she pressed her lips against her girl’s. Tiny moans trembled from Char’s mouth, vibrating her lips. She smiled, holding her tight as they both came.

  A few minutes later, they lay curled together, Char’s warm body spooning hers.

  “You okay?” Char asked her.

  “Yes,” she answered honestly. She turned until she faced Char. “I have something to ask you.” Her heart rammed in her chest, her veins pulsing with uncertainty.

  “Sure.” Charlotte brushed curls out of her face.

  She took a deep breath. Damn Lucas for putting the idea in her head. Closing her eyes for a moment, she prayed to whatever might be that she wasn’t about to make a major fool out of herself. “So,” she said, “this might be kind of moving things fast, but it’s just a suggestion and you can totally say no and there will be no hard feelings—”

  Char gasped, sitting up on one elbow. “No way.”

  Amarie’s mouth dropped open. She hadn’t even asked yet. Her eyes burned with tears unshed, but she took deep breaths in through her nose. It was fine. She completely understood. Besides, it’d been silly of her to even think it was a possibility. “Moving on,” she said, voice husky.

  “No, I mean, I was going to ask you the same thing. I mean, if you were about to ask what I think you were about to ask.”

  “You mean, something completely rash and spontaneous?” Amarie rolled onto her back.

  Char nodded. “Like moving in together?”

  Even in the dim light, Amarie could see the blush tinting Charlotte’s fair skin. The corners of her mouth lifted at the sight of it. “So yes on the impulsively silly?”

  “No,” Char said, raising herself above Amarie. She pressed her lips to the tip of her nose in a quick kiss. “I don’t think it’s silly, if you don’t think it’s silly.”

  Amarie touched her nose, her skin tingling where Char’s lips had brushed. “I want to. Move in together, I mean. Do you?”

  She held her breath, waiting for Char’s response. It was the heat of the moment that colored their conversation, and she knew that. Still, her heartbeats echoed into each other, her hopes high.

  Char nodded. “Yes.”

  She grinned. “Someone recently told me that you don’t always need a grand declaration, that sometimes just being together is enough. Is . . .” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed hard. “Is that e
nough for you?”

  “Yes,” Char said, kissing her again.

  Wrapping her arms around Char, Amarie didn’t try to hide the smile that engulfed her entire face. “Let’s do it.”

  If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up.

  Chapter 16

  Charlotte paused at the top of the second flight of wooden stairs that led up to her new apartment. Her calves, arms, and chest ached. She balanced the last box with one knee, trying to recover her breath.

  In more than one way.

  Just a couple of weeks earlier, they’d decided to just be happy, to move in together. Part of her had been afraid to believe it was real. Yet there she stood, on the threshold of their own place. May had rolled into June, and with it, her heart had opened to new possibilities.

  Amarie appeared in the doorway. “Need help, love?”

  She grinned at the endearment. “No,” she huffed. “I’m just resting.”

  Amarie made the no nonsense face that Charlotte had dubbed her Teacher Look, her head tilting to the side and an eyebrow quirking. Then she hopped onto the deck and grabbed the box.

  “No!” Char reached out for it, but Amarie strode inside. “Wait. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” She hurried after her.

  Amarie set the box down on the L-shaped counter that divided the kitchen from the open floor plan dining and living areas. She stuck out her tongue.

  “You.” Char wrapped her arms around her and planted a kiss on her cheek. “You were supposed to be resting.”

  “Well, now we can both rest.” Amarie wriggled out of her grasp and returned to the porch. “Come on. It’s much cooler out there.”

  Too true, Char mused as she followed her. Though it was only in the low eighties and there was a nice breeze, the attic apartment was already a flaming furnace. She understood why both Lucas and Matt had been in such a hurry to move out. There were hardly enough windows, and the place was poorly insulated. Still, it was hers and Amarie’s—theirs.

  She joined Amarie on the small porch, watching as her girl hung both gay pride and bisexual pride flags. They fluttered in the breeze. Amarie stepped back in satisfaction.