Wishing on a Dream

by Julie Cannon

  When Kiersten leaned back so she could look directly into my eyes, her pelvis shifted closer to me. My body responded.

  “She’d shit a brick,” Kiersten said, completely deadpan.

  I laughed and knew those few people who hadn’t been watching us were now doing so.

  “That’s an interesting image,” I managed to say.

  Kiersten finally smiled—a big smile—and the world around me disappeared. Gone was the low hum of conversation, the clinking of cutlery, and the hiss of soda cans opening. Gone were the dozens of eyes watching our every move with cell-phone cameras at the ready.

  The only thing that existed at that moment, that perfect moment, was Kiersten, eyes sparkling, head thrown back laughing, her nether regions pressed hard against mine. I managed not to step on her feet as we moved across the floor.

  “When she finds out, she will have a conniption fit.”

  God damn, she was cute with her funny little sayings and infectious laugh. And she was hot in that dress with her hair around her shoulders, her body pressed against mine.

  “I’ll take that bet,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I said I’ll take that bet,”

  “That’s a guaranteed loser, Tobin.” My heart skipped a few beats. It was the first time she’d addressed me by my name tonight, and it was an awesome sound.

  “I’ll bet you that your mother will not find out you took me to your class reunion.”

  Kiersten looked at me as if I were crazy. Who knows, maybe I was.

  “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “What are you betting?”

  “A kiss.”

  “A kiss?”

  “Yes, a kiss. If I win, you kiss me my way. If you win, you kiss me your way.” I had no idea where that come from. My crotch started throbbing double-time when Kiersten’s eyes dropped to my lips. She subconsciously licked hers. I stifled a groan.

  “Where and when I want,” I said. Might as well go for broke.

  I watched as her breasts moved up and down faster as her breathing quickened. I felt her nipples pebble under her thin dress. This conversation had definitely shifted in my favor, and my instincts kicked in. I pulled her close, our bodies touching. I slid a leg between hers and moved seductively across the dance floor. I felt her body respond, and the throb in my crotch increased.

  The sound of applause around us broke me out of my trance. Kiersten must have realized the music had stopped. She dropped her arms from around me and started to walk toward our table. I grabbed her hand and stopped her.

  Well?” I asked, my voice much calmer than my pounding clit.

  “All right,” she said, her voice husky. “For how long?”

  “How long do you have to kiss me?” I asked stupidly, but I was rewarded when she looked at my lips again.

  “Ugh…No, how long before my mother knows?”

  “Twenty-four hours.” No clue where that number came from.

  Kiersten concentrated and seemed to be calculating something in her head.

  “You can’t tell her.”

  “I won’t,” I said quickly, the mood shifting back to playful.

  “And no one in your entourage can.”

  “I don’t have an entourage. I have a crew, but she won’t hear it from them.”

  “So how do we judge this?” she asked skeptically.

  “I trust you.” I gave her my best bad-girl look.

  “Deal. Now take me home. It’s late and my feet are killing me.”

  *

  What in the fuck was I thinking, taking her up on her silly bet? I wasn’t thinking, that’s what. Every time Tobin touched me or even looked at me, my Phi Beta Kappa brain turned into Phi Beta mush.

  We were quiet on the ride back to my place. I had no idea what Tobin was thinking about, but I was calculating the flight time from Paris to Chicago. My parents were flying back from their annual trip tomorrow. Paris was seven hours ahead of us, and since it was almost midnight my mother wouldn’t even be out of bed yet. After her standard dry toast and coffee, she’d be too busy trying to stuff all her shopping purchases into the spare suitcase she always took with her to Europe. Then they’d have to check in, the flight was almost nine hours long, then customs, a cab to their apartment, unpacking…They would just pass the twenty-four-hour mark before they had a chance to talk with anyone.

  I’d have thought I would have felt smug when we walked in the door and everybody recognized Tobin. Or maybe when they realized how different I looked, or how successful I was, or that Tobin was my date for the evening. But I’d been too nervous to soak it all in. Now, away from the nosy eyes of people I hadn’t seen in twenty years, the reality of the evening hit me. Little ole frumpy, dorky Kiersten Fellows had Tobin Parks as her date. What a coup, and I was the one everybody looked at in awe and envy instead of pity and disgust. So why was the idea of kissing Tobin more thrilling than that?

  “I’ll walk you up,” Tobin said once the car stopped in front of my house.

  “No need. I’ll be fine,” I said, more out of habit than anything else.

  “Too bad.” Tobin took my hand as she pulled me across the smooth leather seat toward the door. “If nothing else, I’m polite.”

  “You have excellent manners, and you’re great with small talk. I hate trying to figure out what to say to people.” I knew I was rambling, but all I could think about was if Tobin was going to kiss me good night. What would I do if she did? Let her? Turn my head at the last minute? I’d probably do something as mortifying as stick out my hand for a chaste handshake.

  The accent lighting on the front walk grew brighter as we neared the front door. I stepped up on the porch and turned around. “Thank you,” I said, facing her and fiddling with my keys. “I didn’t think I’d have a good time, but I did.”

  “I did too.” Tobin took my keys from my hand, unlocked the door, and stayed very close to me.

  “Are you going to invite me in?” she asked just before kissing me on my cheek. Her breath was warm, and her lips on my skin were doing crazy things to my insides.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I somehow managed to get out.

  “But we’re not doing any business together.”

  Is this the time I tell Tobin I’ve never been with a woman? That other than a few clumsy gropings in a dark closet or at my front door I’ve never felt a woman’s hands on me? That I’ve never had the thrill of hearing my name come from a woman’s lips, my touch driving her wild with abandon, my fingers buried deep inside her? And how exactly would I make that confession? The longer I’m a virgin, the more difficult it is to admit. I’m a freak. No one is a virgin at thirty-six. She wouldn’t believe me even if I was able to get the words past the lump in my throat and out of my mouth. My mouth that has never kissed the crook of an arm, nibbled on a neck, or traveled over hot, smooth skin. My tongue that has never licked sweat from the small of a smooth back, the inside of a leg, or flicked over a hard nipple. Lips that have never touched warm, wet heat, tasted want, driven a woman to the summit and held her there as she peaked.

  And just how do I tell her? Do I tell her? I’ve faked and bullshitted my way through a lot of things in my life; this could just be one more. The humiliation I would feel if she turned me down or, God forbid, laughed at me would be unbearable. No way could I compare to the dozens, if not hundreds of women she’d been with.

  I managed to step back just enough to break contact. My skin immediately cooled where her lips had been. “Good night.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  When I locked the front door, I noticed my hands were shaking. I had been a ball of nerves all week in anticipation of this evening. What was I going to wear? Who would I see? Would anyone recognize me? Want to talk to me? Be amazed at who I am today? Would Tobin like what I was wearing? Would she think I was pretty? Would she want to kiss me or kiss me good night? Would she dump me at the curb when she saw what I looked like twenty years ago? Why did she even ask me in the first pl
ace? Was this a pity date, something she could write in her biography or get press about? Was it a tax deduction, donating her time to a charitable cause? Based on her reported earnings, that would be a hell of a deduction even the IRS would question.

  No wonder I was a basket case. I hadn’t been able to concentrate, and my stomach had been in knots so that other than a few protein shakes, eating was out of the question.

  Now that the reunion was over, I was crashing. The adrenaline rush of anticipation of the evening itself was over, my body was giving in to exhaustion. I knew I couldn’t sleep so I dragged myself outside and tossed the ball to Rockette for a while, but not before grabbing a bottle of wine and a glass to take with me. The night was cool, the sky clear and full of bright, twinkling stars. The full moon reflected the pond behind my house.

  I had bought the four acres as undeveloped land eight years ago. At the time it was seven miles from the nearest Quickie Mart and thirteen miles from the interstate. Now, a Dairy Queen, McDonald’s, and Walmart were between me and I-79, along with a Home Depot and three Starbucks. Progress and capitalism at its finest.

  I planted my own flowers, trimmed the trees that lined my driveway, and laid my back patio. Every Saturday morning from May through October, if I wasn’t traveling I mowed my lawn from the seat of my John Deere Z540R Zero-Turn-Radius 60-inch deck mower, enjoying the fresh air. The only thing I didn’t do was plow my driveway in the winter. I hired a service to do that since the distance from the street to my garage was over eighty yards

  The smell of fresh-cut grass was still in the air even now, almost twelve hours later. I sat down on one of the lounge chairs, then kicked off my shoes, put my feet up, and laid my head back. Rockette’s cold, wet nose nudged my hand.

  “That’s all for tonight, girl. I’m exhausted. I’m just going to unwind and go to bed.” And try not to dream about the feeling of being in Tobin’s arms. Or the scent of her cologne. Or the shape of her mouth. My eyelids drifted shut.

  Tobin’s lips were as soft as I remembered them to be. I’m certainly no expert when it comes to kissing, but if I had to judge, I’d say she had mastered it. The first kiss earlier in the evening was for show, but this one was for real.

  She took her time exploring my lips, nipping and gently sucking on my bottom lip. Her kiss wasn’t sloppy or messy. She didn’t demand to be let in so I could have the pleasure of gagging on her tongue, like some others did. She just kept kissing me like she had all the time in the world. I opened my mouth first, needing more of her. Needing her to possess me, to possess her.

  Tobin’s hand ran up and down my back as our tongues alternatively dueled, then explored each other. My hands were in her hair, holding her close, urging her on the only way I knew how.

  Her hands moved to my sides, then up to just below my breasts. She stopped there as if asking permission to go farther. How in the hell could she think at a time like this? It was all my brain could do to tell my legs not to buckle.

  Her lips moved across my neck, and her warm breath caressed it. I still had my hands in her hair but let her go whenever she wanted. She must have read my mind or my body language because her hands slid up and cupped my breasts. I didn’t even try to stifle a gasp of pleasure.

  Tobin’s lips came back to mine as she slowly moved my zipper, exposing my back to the cool air. When it was all the way down, her warm hands replaced the fabric, my skin heating under her touch.

  “Your skin is so soft,” she whispered against my lips.

  I got busy pulling her jacket off her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor. She was rich. If it was ruined she could afford to buy a new one, or ten. Eager to touch her skin, I pulled at her shirt until it came free of her waistband, slid my hands under it, and touched her.

  God, she felt good. Her skin was warm, and my fingers traced over solid, well-defined muscles. Tobin squirmed when I lightly ran my hand up and down her sides.

  “I’m ticklish,” she said, her lips on mine. I filed that fact away for future reference.

  Tobin slid her hands up my back and across my shoulders, pulling my dress down my arms. It fell in a pile around my feet, and even though it was new and cost a small fortune, I didn’t care.

  “Beautiful,” Tobin said, looking at me. I fought the urge to cover myself, more out of habit than shyness. The look on her face and in her eyes made those hundreds of hours at the gym, the thousands of miles of running, and the god-awful special meal plan all worthwhile. I knew she desired me, and that scared the hell out of me.

  Was this the time to say, “Hey Tobin, want to hear something really bizarre? I bet you’ve never met a thirty-six-year-old virgin before.” Or was “I’ve never done this before” more appropriate? Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut and pretend I knew what I was doing? Shouldn’t be too hard. I have a bookcase full of lesbian romance books, one shelf full of erotica, and I’ve watched my share of porn. I knew what goes where. It’s just I’ve never gone there and didn’t know if I had the nerve to try. My body might not embarrass me so much anymore, but my actions would. I stopped thinking so much when Tobin ran her finger down my neck, across my collarbones, and down between by bare breasts.

  My dress had a sewn-in bra so her travel was free of any unwanted clothing. When Tobin’s eyes shifted to my breasts, my knees almost gave way.

  She cupped my breasts, her thumb lightly tracing my erect nipple. Pleasure threatened to topple me, and I grabbed her shoulders to keep from falling.

  “God, you are beautiful,” she said before repeating the same maneuver on my other breast, that nipple screaming for attention. When her tongue flicked over the other nipple, I felt myself falling.

  Tobin gathered me in her arms and laid me on the patio chair. She wrapped one arm around me and slid her thigh between mine while her mouth did delicious things to my breasts.

  The pressure between my legs was building, and with every flick of her tongue across a nipple, I moved my hands against her.

  OMG, if we kept this up I was going to come. Was that a bad thing? Wasn’t that what I wanted? Then I wouldn’t have to tell her anything. Sounded like a plan. Except when she lifted her head and said, “Can we take this somewhere else? Somewhere a little more comfortable?”

  This was it. This was the time I needed to open my mouth and tell her. She had a right to know. Didn’t she?

  “Kiersten?” Tobin asked, concern replacing some of the desire in her voice. “You okay? This okay?”

  It was sweet of her to ask. My body cooled when Tobin stepped back. I needed to say something, anything. The seconds ticked by, and I knew the next one she would step farther away and out the door. Is that what I wanted?

  This was not a good idea. Mixing business with pleasure was a no-no in my book, even if I never had that chapter in school. But we weren’t conducting any business together so it would be okay if we got down to business.

  “Look, if you don’t…” Tobin started to say, but I grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall behind me.

  Something wet on my hand jolted me out of my dream. It took several moments for me to realize where I was and that Rockette was sitting beside me, a guilty look on her face. My heart was pounding, as were other parts of my body, and my hands were shaking. The dream had seemed so real, and judging by my current state of arousal, my body thought so too. I gathered up my wine and my dog and went to bed.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “You didn’t invite her in?” Courtney asked, wiping the beer that had just spewed out of her mouth. It was the next day, and the after-church crowd hadn’t yet swarmed liked bees for lunch at the Burger Barn. I had just told her how I had chickened out from dragging Tobin into my house and ravishing her in my foyer.

  “Why not?”

  I could barely get the words out. How do you tell your best friend that you’ve been lying to her for years? And why was I telling her now? I hoped she didn’t hate me and jumped right in. “I’ve never done it before.” I wasn’t sure I said
it loud enough for her to hear.

  “Done what?” Courtney asked.

  Damn. Why couldn’t she read my mind? “I haven’t…been with…I never…” I couldn’t get the words out. I watched Courtney’s expression change from confused to understanding to shock.

  “You’ve never…?”

  “Yes, Courtney. I’ve never,” I finally said. “Don’t make me repeat it.” I was embarrassed enough that I was a thirty-six-year-old virgin without having to repeat it out loud again.

  “I’m sorry, Kiersten. It’s just that you caught me off guard. I never expected you to say that.”

  I hadn’t planned on it either when Courtney had agreed to meet me tonight. She wanted to know every detail about my date with Tobin at the reunion.

  “Wow, K. I don’t know whether I should be in shock, in awe, or pissed off at you for not telling me sooner.”

  I wasn’t sure which was winning either. “I’m sorry. I should have said something in the beginning, but you just assumed, and out of embarrassment I played along. Then it just got more and more awkward, and I guess it got to the point that I couldn’t come clean. I was upset that I lied to you, even if it was a lie of omission.”

  “So how have you…you’ve never…I mean, you’re gorgeous…and rich and…”

  “I used to be fat,” I blurted out. My timing was better this time because Courtney didn’t have a mouth full of Corona. “I used to be fat, really fat,” I said, emphasizing the word. “I was teased in school, called names, picked last for teams, the typical elementary-school behavior. High school was worse. I never had a boyfriend and started liking girls, which compounded everything. No self-esteem, no confidence, zero, zilch, nada,” I added, just in case she didn’t get it the first or second time. “January first of my senior year in college I went on a crash diet, went to the gym every day, and started running. Six months and over a hundred pounds later you saved my life in that shitty bar the first week of grad school.” The entire time I was talking, I kept glancing around the room. Occasionally I was able to look at Courtney and found her watching me with intense concentration.