Party of Three

by Sandy Lowe

  “That’s totally normal. You have nothing to be sorry for. Sexual development at seventeen is a whole lot different than fifteen, even if we were only two years apart.”

  The corner of Spencer’s mouth tipped up. “Not so different really. I have a confession to make.”

  “What do you possibly have to confess?”

  “That night, after you’d left and I was in bed I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Of course, I replayed the kiss a hundred times, but I also thought about you in the pool, wet and dripping, and stretched out on the sun lounger with your eyes closed. I thought about you asking me if I’d rub sunscreen into your shoulders. How you’d lie there on your belly while I ran my hands all over you, and you wouldn’t have stopped me.”

  All the blood in Avery’s body shot down between her legs. “God.”

  “Yeah,” Spencer said a little uncertainly. “I touched myself, thinking about you and what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped kissing me.”

  “You…” Avery couldn’t get the words out. It was like all her insides had just packed up and gone on holiday. Holy Jesus. Spencer had masturbated thinking about her back then. “Did you come?” Okay, so probably not the subtlest question but definitely the most vital one.

  “Oh, you’re all about the payoff, are you? Just want to get right to the finale? Nice. That’s real romantic of you.” A grin broke out over Spencer’s face.

  Avery chewed her bottom lip. Yeah. Not subtle. “In this circumstance, I feel the question is warranted, though I definitely want every single detail of the in-between.”

  Spencer laughed. “Yes, I came. My first, actually.”

  “Your first orgasm?” Wow. Just, wow.

  “Yup. That kiss was pretty inspirational.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that while I was picturing us having picnics on the beach and growing old together, you were picturing pornographic sex acts and getting what I’m sure is a very pretty pussy all wet. You started young, Dr. Sex Brain.”

  Spencer groaned. “Shut up. It wasn’t pornographic. Kissing and being vigilant about your skincare and sun protection was plenty to get the job done.”

  Avery tipped Spencer’s face up with a finger under her chin. “But you don’t deny it made your pussy wet, do you?”

  Spencer’s mouth twitched. “Can I plead the Fifth?”

  “You’ll have to pay for it.” Avery narrowed her eyes jokingly.

  “What do you want?”

  The question was simple, four little words. So insignificant on their own but enough to have her own pussy growing damp when Spencer put them together in that tone. The one that said she’d be happy to pay whatever the price.

  Avery thought for a second. She didn’t want to go back downstairs and share Spencer with everyone at the party just yet. It was also pretty interesting that Spencer’s fantasy had been touching her and not the other way around. To her mind, most girls at that age would’ve pictured lying back and being tended to. But not Spencer. She’d wanted to explore, and she’d waited just as long as Avery had. “I think I’m going to require a little reenactment, Miss McGregor.”

  Spencer’s brow creased. “Huh?”

  Avery spread a palm over the quilt. “This isn’t a sun lounger, but it’ll do fine. I believe you said your fantasy was that I lay on my stomach and you rubbed my shoulders? I wouldn’t have stopped you then, and I’m not going to now.”

  Avery could practically hear Spencer gulp, but she wet her lips and took a long breath. Oh yeah, she liked this idea. Avery liked it too. Maybe too much.

  Her body craved it.

  But her heart was ringing alarm bells.

  The trick was not letting things go too far too fast.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lessons in Losing It

  “Take off my shirt.” Avery stood in front of Spencer, looking at her expectantly.

  Spencer froze. “I…You want me to…You want to be naked?”

  Avery wasn’t sure if Spencer was going to start ripping her clothes off or start running for the door. From her expression, it could go either way. For all her bravado about getting laid tonight, she was still a virgin about to take a woman’s shirt off for the first time. Avery reminded herself to go slow, be patient, not act like an ass again.

  “No, love, I want you to take my shirt off. I wasn’t exactly expecting to re-create your poolside fantasy tonight, but I think my sports bra is as close as we’ll get to a swim top.”

  “Oh!” Spencer laughed awkwardly. “Sorry. I suck at this already, don’t I?”

  “Absolutely not.” Avery tugged her up so they were nose to nose. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. You know that.”

  “You’re just afraid my sister will feed you to a mountain lion.”

  Avery winced. “Definitely a factor. She’s scary when she’s mad.”

  “You don’t have to worry. I’m ready. I’ve been ready since I made myself come for the first time thinking about it.”

  Avery groaned. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to hearing that Spencer had touched herself thinking about her, thinking about touching her, wanting her so much it had made her come. “Take off my shirt.”

  Spencer’s slender piano player fingers got to work on her buttons, tugging the starched cotton off her shoulders until her shirt fell like a fat snowflake to the floor. Her tongue peeked out to wet her lips as she gave Avery the slow once-over. It was stupid to feel insecure. Avery’d been a lot more naked than this plenty of times in her life, and modesty wasn’t a virtue she possessed. But Spencer’s gaze on her bare skin had goose bumps breaking out along her arms. It might be juvenile and not a little shallow to wish she had a bodybuilder’s physique, but right this second, she’d have traded every cent in her bank account for a few muscles worthy of American Ninja Warrior. “Maybe fantasy Avery doesn’t compare to the real version either,” she said, trying to disperse the sudden weight in the air.

  Spencer met her eyes. “It doesn’t compare at all. I could never have imagined real Avery to be this sexy.”

  Avery’s breath whooshed out of her. That was a pretty good answer, as answers went. “Thanks, love. I could use some more time in the weight room.”

  Spencer trailed her fingertips along Avery’s bicep, “You look strong to me. But in a Pilates enthusiast, daily swimmer kind of way.”

  Avery winced. “Pilates?” Was there anything girlier? Just the idea of those skintight workout pants made her want to cross her legs in defense.

  Spencer grinned. “No? Well, just born toned then. I could learn to hate you.”

  I’d rather you loved me. Avery caught Spencer’s wandering fingers in hers and kissed them. “Now that you have me at your mercy, Dr. Sex Brain, what are we going to do?”

  Spencer smiled. “I believe this is the part where you lie down and pretend to be sunbathing.”

  Spencer was right, but somehow it didn’t seem fair that she just lie there while Spencer did all the work. She wanted to touch her too. “Maybe we should engage in a little revisionist history.”

  An abridged version where she had Spencer naked and panting within the next twenty seconds. The CliffsNotes guide to getting it on.

  Spencer shook her head. “Uh-uh. On your belly. Before I lose patience.”

  “You sure? I could make you feel really good you know.”

  Spencer made a little sound that under any other circumstances Avery would’ve interpreted as pain. When she spoke her voice was strained. “I want this. I want to run my hands all over you and have you not stop me.”

  God. Yes. Okay. Sure. That’d be fine.

  Avery settled on the bed with her face in Spencer’s pillow. It smelled like her, the subtlest hint of rosewater wrapped in sandalwood. She could feel Spencer kneeling on the bed beside her, looking down at her bare back save for the straps of her bra.

  “It’s getting hot,” Spencer said. “You don’t want to burn.”

  Too late for that. “Um.
Too lazy to move.” She stretched languidly, making sure to wiggle her ass just a little. “Do you have any sunscreen? Maybe you could keep me from burning.” Or be the flame that scorches me. She could hear Spencer’s breathing change above her, a slight uptick that had her own pulse racing.

  “Sure. Some right here.” Spencer paused. “Keep still. I don’t want to miss a spot.”

  Her fingers were trembling when she brushed small circles along the nape of Avery’s neck. Her touch was tentative at first, like she was half afraid she was doing something wrong, but as a minute ticked by, and then another, she grew bold, confident. Spencer threaded fingers into her hair and tugged just hard enough to make her scalp tingle and her hips jerk. Fuck.

  “You like that?” Spencer’s tone more incredulous surprise than tempting seductress.

  “Oh yeah,” Avery murmured, wishing she’d do it again. “It feels really good.”

  “I read about it in a book once,” Spencer said, “but I wasn’t really sure it could be a sexual turn-on. Hair seems so…” She thought for a second, “banal, like your elbow or your big toe.”

  “Everything’s a turn-on for somebody,” Avery said. “You just wait till it’s your turn, you’re going to find out all kinds of things about yourself you never knew.”

  Spencer’s fingers tightened in her hair again, and she leaned down to whisper in Avery’s ear, “I can’t wait.” Her hands slid along Avery’s shoulder blades, mapping the contours of her body. “You’re going to get tan lines.”

  “Take it off then.” Avery made sure to keep her voice just this side of sleepy. The fantasy had all the trappings of innocence, and she didn’t want to spook her. Spencer might be the virgin, but she was in control of the pace tonight.

  “O-okay.” Spencer stumbled a little on the word, like she’d tripped but caught herself before a full-blown stutter. She released the clasp on Avery’s bra and pushed the straps down her arms. Avery levered up on her elbows and pulled free, tossing the garment to the side. She settled back down, but not before giving Spencer a good long glimpse of her breasts.

  “Thanks,” Avery said, “that feels better.”

  “You’re welcome.” The gravel in Spencer’s voice made “you’re welcome” sound a hell of a lot like “turn over and fuck me,” but Avery kept still, more than a little pleased their impromptu role-play was turning Spencer on as well.

  When Spencer touched her again, running her palms along Avery’s waist and up across the expanse of her back, she had to stifle a moan. God. She’d thought a cute little fantasy sunscreen would be light and easy, a step toward intimacy that would be fun for them both. But this wasn’t fun; this should be in the urban dictionary under The Scenic Route to Torment City. Spencer’s hands on her back made Avery want them on her front, on her everywhere, especially, most particularly, between her legs. She pressed her pelvis into the quilt trying and failing to relieve some of the pressure without being too obvious. The very last thing she wanted was to freak Spencer out by getting too hot too fast. Again.

  Spencer’s fingers dipped down her sides, grazing the side of her breasts, and Avery couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her. When Spencer did it again, then again, she knew she must have noticed and was teasing her on purpose. Whose dumb idea was this to reenact a fantasy where she had to lie passively while Spencer drove her out of her mind?

  Oh yeah. That’s right. Hers. Dumbass.

  When Spencer ran her palms down Avery’s waist and curled her fingers around her hips just above the waistband of her pants, Avery groaned into the pillow. She lifted her hips. She couldn’t have stopped herself if her life had depended on it. Touch me, love. Just a little lower.

  Spencer moved to her lower back, her touch more massage now, fingers and palms finding all the tender places and soothing away her tension. Transferring it to the thrumming in her pussy. God, she was wet.

  Spencer traced the waistband of her tuxedo pants. “You’re going to get another tan line.”

  There were some things in life that just made your heart stop. Spencer asking but not asking her to take her pants off was one of those things. She coughed to get her heart started again like a rusty chainsaw spluttering to life, and unglued her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Uh, that’s okay.”

  Wait, what? That’s okay? No, it wasn’t. Tan lines were the worst. Awful. Horrible. Possibly a communicable disease. She had to take her pants off right now to save humanity.

  Spencer tsked. “Your skin is so delicate, and turning just the right shade of gold. You sure you want Casper ass?”

  Avery laugh-snorted into the pillow. That was her girl, the world-class smartass. “When you put it that way.” Avery toed off her shoes and lifted her hips. It took Spencer a second, but then her hands slid into the inch of space Avery had created and she undid the button on her pants, then the zipper, then slid her hand inside.

  “Spencer.” The word was a gasp. Oh, sweet Jesus. She hadn’t expected Spencer to just go for it. Hot ribbons of need curled and spread inside her, expanding, cloning themselves until everything was warm and wet and needy.

  Spencer’s fingers traced her clit through her underwear and Avery yelped. Oh yeah. Such a very sexy yelp it was too. God. This woman could undo her like no one ever had. “Love, I…” She pushed hard into Spencer’s hand. She wanted very, very badly to come. Spencer slid her hand out and tugged on the fabric of her pants, pulling them and her socks down and off with more finesse than a virgin should’ve had, leaving Avery in nothing but her underwear.

  Avery’s unreliable heartbeat had officially moved residence to the spot between her thighs, thumping a steady beat that was driving her mad. She pushed up on an elbow again and glanced over her shoulder at Spencer. “Let me touch you, please.” Finding herself spread-eagle, more or less naked while her girl was fully dressed, and she hadn’t done anything more than kiss her, was not a position Avery was used to occupying.

  Spencer smoothed a palm over her ass and Avery collapsed into the pillow again. Ohpleaseyesmore.

  Spencer giggled. “My, my, you’re easy.”

  So fucking easy.

  Spencer moved up to look Avery in the face. “Are you okay?”

  Avery nodded. She was okay. The okayest of all varieties of okay. But if she didn’t touch Spencer soon she was going to implode. “I want to touch you, make you feel even half of what I’m feeling right now.”

  Light danced in Spencer’s eyes. “What are you feeling right now? I need to know. It’s for my paper.”

  Avery bit her lip. As much as Spencer tried to fit back into the mold of an innocent teenager, she’d grown into a woman with an insatiable, and frustratingly intellectual, curiosity about sex. “I’m feeling very aroused.”

  Spencer settled down next to Avery who automatically turned to face her. Spencer’s gaze dropped from her eyes to her breasts faster than a meteor falling from the sky. Avery snorted. Maybe not completely intellectual, then.

  Spencer reached out and cupped Avery’s breast in her palm, her mouth slightly open and her eyes unfocused. Avery let her. She remembered her first time touching boobs and wasn’t about to interrupt the sanctity of the moment.

  “Wow,” Spencer breathed, brushing Avery’s nipple with her thumb and making everything south of her belly button tense in anticipation.

  “They’re pretty average.”

  Spencer shook her head. “They’re perfect.” She traced the curve of Avery’s breast with a touch worthy of worship to the gods. Then, as if remembering herself, she looked up again. “Why did you get aroused? How? Can you explain it?”

  Sure. No problem. Easy as two plus two. Avery closed her eyes and put her thoughts together, not an easy task with Spencer’s hand still on her breast. “When you touch me, or kiss me, or tell me you like something I’m doing, I start to feel hot all over.”

  Spencer frowned, a tiny wrinkle between her brows. “Like actual sunburn?”

  “No, it’s on the inside, like my blood is
heating.”

  “Does it feel good?” Spencer brushed a thumb over her nipple again, and Avery caught the whimper and held it back right before it escaped her lips.

  “Yes. When you touch me, it feels like my skin is coming to life after a long hibernation. Tingly. I feel…”

  “What?” Spencer asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper.

  “A little weak,” Avery murmured. “You turn my knees to jelly and all the blood rushes from my head, making it hard to think.” Great. Could she be a little less honest next time? Weak? She was painting herself as a right little submissive. No wonder Spencer had her flat on her stomach. “I’m blushing, aren’t I?”

  Spencer grinned. “According to you, seventy-two percent of women blush.”

  “It’s sexier on you.”

  “I could argue that point, but I’d be willing to let it go if you told me how your pussy feels right now.”

  “Jesus, fuck, Spencer.” Avery pulled air into her lungs like she’d just run a marathon.

  “No? Is that the wrong word? I only used it because it’s what you used, before, when we were talking about me, and the textbooks say it’s good to match vocabulary where you can, creates connection and empathy.”

  “It’s not wrong. But the textbooks didn’t tell you that it makes me wet to hear you say pussy.”

  Spencer’s smile was shy. “Yeah? I’ll send an email to the publisher. Demand a revision.”

  “Really wet. I’ve been wet all night.”

  “Since the kiss on the balcony?”

  Avery brushed a strand of Spencer’s hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “Since the moment you said hello.”

  “I—”

  “What?” Avery asked, tracing a fingertip over the perfect shell of Spencer’s ear.

  “It’s so scandalous. That word. Pussy.”

  “Do you think so?” Avery whispered and kissed her again because she’d never been able to resist Spencer’s mind-blowing innocent sex goddess combo.

  She ran her palms through Spencer’s long straight hair, wrapping it around her hands over and over again, using her hold to angle Spencer’s head for more, for deeper. She poured all her desire into a kiss that was at once both meditative and desperate. It was like coming home to the most exciting adventure of her life. Spencer made a sound in the back of her throat and Avery kissed her harder. She couldn’t breathe but she didn’t care. She wanted to find every thread of good girl Spencer had left and tug until she’d unraveled the amazing, sexy woman Spencer had become. Until Spencer opened for her, panting and sweaty and helpless with need. She curved her hands around Spencer’s skull and held her, fighting the urge to move over her, to push faster, to take it all. Her body responded to Spencer’s on an elemental level, instinct to instinct, and the sweet sounds she made when Avery kissed her were driving her over the edge.