“Come up here. Please,” she gasped, weakly, pulling at Meg. “I want to hold you while I catch my breath so I can…” She kissed Meg, who moved to her side. “So I can do to you what you’ve done to me.
54
Low music gently pulled Meg from a deep and comfortable sleep. She sighed contentedly to find herself lying in the warmth of Fiona’s arms, her head resting on the pillow of Fiona’s shoulder. She opened her eyes—one of the splendid breasts she had been delighting in all night long was mere inches from her lips. She wet them in anticipation of wrapping them around the dark peak just as a hand stroked her back. The gentle touch on her bare skin made Meg stretch like a sated cat, and she pressed against the length of Fiona’s body. Well-used muscles declared themselves, and she sighed with pleasure at the memory of how those muscles had been used. She tilted her head up and found herself looking up into the hazel eyes of the most incredible woman she had ever known.
“Good morning.” She slid up to Fiona’s ear and kissed the sensitive skin below it. Fiona turned her head to provide unencumbered access. Meg rolled closer, her body partly atop Fiona’s. A surge of desire she didn’t think possible, considering the exploits of the night before, made her heartbeat quicken. It was as if she hadn’t already come half a dozen times or fallen asleep exhausted in the middle of a long kiss.
Fiona tensed beneath her and moved her leg, tangling it with Meg’s. Meg brought her lips to Fiona’s mouth, smelling herself on Fiona’s skin. Just like that, they were again lost in each other.
55
Several minutes later, while they lay splayed amidst the disarray of sheets and pillows, Fiona took in the low sounds of the radio playing. She sighed.
“Work. There’s no way…” She rolled over and took one of Meg’s nipples between her teeth before she could complete her thought.
“Oh, God. I’m begging you. Don’t go.” Meg moaned as wetness spilled from her swollen center.
Fiona released the nipple from between her teeth to answer, and Meg swiftly pushed her onto her back, draping her body over her.
“Not fair.” Fiona spread her legs so Meg could settle her hips between them. She recognized the evil glint in Meg’s eyes. The memory of Meg looking up at her from between her legs made her shiver.
“You haven’t seen how unfair I can be when I want something.” Meg began a trail of lingering kisses, starting at Fiona’s mouth, ending right below her belly button. Fiona watched, her heart racing faster the lower Meg traveled. She lifted her hips, biting her lower lip as Meg’s eyes looked toward the treasure she sought. Fiona dropped her head and let the sensation carry her away.
56
Meg trailed her finger along Fiona’s spine as Fiona talked on the phone.
“Thanks, Twyla. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Fiona ended the call and put her cell phone on the bedside table. “Well, that’s taken care of.”
Meg smiled and pulled Fiona closer to her. “I am surprised at you, counselor.” She watched her own hand dance across the bare skin of Fiona’s hip.
They were lying on their sides, facing each other. Meg had never seen a woman look as beautiful as Fiona, with her hair tousled, lips swollen from kisses, her eyes soft from their lovemaking.
She was wondering how they were ever going to get out of bed with the constant craving she had for the beautiful woman before her.
“Surprised at me for what?” Fiona captured Meg’s wrist, bringing the hand up to her mouth to kiss the palm and then each finger. She smelled herself on Fiona’s fingers. A pulse raged through her at the thought of what those hands had done to her.
“I had the impression you were so responsible, but here you are, playing hooky.” Meg’s voice cracked on the last word when Fiona caught one of Meg’s fingers between her lips. Fiona’s tongue flicked the tip of her finger and the muscles between Meg’s legs contracted as if Fiona’s tongue was playing on her clit. They stared at each other intently, while the blinding desire they had for one another rose to a crescendo. Finally, Fiona blinked and seemed to shake herself from the trance she had fallen into, releasing Meg from her hypnotizing stare.
“I was coerced.” Fiona finally said.
“Coerced?” Meg forgot what they’d been talking about.
“Coerced into playing hooky. I can prove it.”
“How’s so?”
“By the unique marks I can describe on intimate parts of your body. Like the cute little freckle right next to your nipple, right here…” Fiona kissed the freckle in question. “And then there’s the tiny little mole on the inside of your left thigh, right here where your leg meets—”
“You… may have a point,” Meg whispered, as she shut her eyes and allowed Fiona to demonstrate where the mole was.
57
Fiona didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until she awoke to gentle kisses trailing down her back, and the soft feather-light tickle of Meg’s hair trailing behind. She was lying on her stomach, her arms splayed above her head. She smiled but didn’t open her eyes.
“Mmmm… feels nice.” She turned her head so Meg could kiss her ear but didn’t open her eyes.
“Wakey. Wakey.”
“I’m awake, but barely.” Fiona moaned.
“I need food or I might resort to cannibalism.” To underscore her point, Meg gently bit Fiona’s shoulder, which made Fiona’s sex clench. Meg’s touch did wonderful things to her.
“Cannibalism is illegal,” Fiona laughed.
Meg kissed the shoulder she’d bitten. “I’d leave no traces to implicate myself. I’m that hungry.”
Fiona enjoyed the weight of Meg’s body on top of her.
“Um… Meg?”
“Yes, Fiona?”
“You need to get off of me so I can... you know… get up.”
“Ah, makes sense.” Meg sighed.
Fiona laughed as Meg rolled off of her, and Fiona bounded up to get dressed. She stood for a few seconds looking at Meg, who lay on her back across the bed. Totally naked. Totally ravishable.
“You know, food is overrated.” Fiona stopped pulling on her shorts. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the naked goddess in her bed. She dropped her shorts and began to crawl right back into bed, but at that moment her stomach chose to issue a loud protest. They both laughed as Meg’s stomach responded in turn.
“Sounds like we’re outnumbered.” Fiona stood back up and pulled on her shorts.
58
Meg sat across from Fiona in a patched and faded Naugahyde booth at The Budget Diner. When they had finally taken their eyes off one another for a minute to check the time, it had surprised her how much of the day they’d spent in bed. Not quite five p.m., it was a little early for the dinner rush and they pretty much had the entire place to themselves. But, even if the restaurant had been crammed full of people, Meg wouldn’t have noticed anyone but Fiona. They seem to have unleashed a crazy obsession with one another. She couldn’t keep her hands to herself, and Fiona seemed to be having a hard time, herself.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had better pancakes,” she said. The triple-stack of buttermilk pancakes she’d ordered was almost gone and she was thinking about ordering another one.
“I think you’re just hungry. I’ve had them before and they’re your run of the mill flapjacks.” Fiona pointed to her own sandwich. “Now, this grilled cheese. It is the absolute bomb.”
Meg was relieved when the business of eating provided a break from their trance-like fixation on one another, but it also let the significance of having become Fiona’s lover sink in. What did it mean? All of the reasons she’d once listed to herself about why it was probably a bad idea—the pregnancy, the fact she was leaving at the end of the summer—tried to distract her from the elation of having had some of the best sex of her life. However, it was the feelings she was having that were first and foremost on her mind. Not the physical feeli
ngs, but the emotional ones. Being with Fiona the way they had been last night—and most of the day—had been an expression of something bigger than mere intense physical release. Every touch had been a promise. Of what, she wasn’t sure, but she craved the connection the unnamed promises inferred. While she ate her pancakes, she thought about the newness of her feelings, along with the gravity of some the circumstances they faced.
“I’m stuffed.” Fiona fell back against the booth and held her stomach.
“I was wondering if I should order another pancake.” Meg smiled as she took her last bite.
Fiona looked amused. “Seriously? That was quite a stack.”
“I think the amount of… exercise we’ve had in the last twenty hours depleted my reserves.” Meg winked at her and picked up the dessert menu. She laughed when Fiona’s cheeks reddened.
“Well then. Eat up, because I think I need more exercise.”
Meg’s center tightened. “In that case, we should order some food to go and I’ll have a slice of cheesecake, too.”
Fiona fixed Meg in her gaze. “Do you always feel this way after sleeping with someone?”
Meg grinned. She was transfixed when Fiona looked at her. “Hungry?”
“No.”
“Then, what do you mean by ‘this way’?” Meg questioned, but she guessed what Fiona was asking. If it was what she thought it was, it came dangerously close to the thoughts she had been having herself. Her stomach filled with butterflies.
Fiona looked deeply into her eyes. What she saw in Fiona’s gaze made her pulse jump.
“I mean, impatient to touch you again.” Fiona’s eyes dropped lower. “My mouth waters when I remember how you taste. Fluttery pulses in my lower belly.” Fiona’s eyes rose and held her gaze again. “The fact that when I squeeze my legs together I can feel you inside of me, and I want to…”
Meg didn’t know how, but suddenly she was on the other side of the booth, kissing Fiona in a way she normally wouldn’t kiss someone in public. She wanted to tell her how she felt the same way, and there were things going on inside of her she had no words for.
A rattling of plates on the other side of the restaurant broke through the avalanche of desire Fiona’s words had swept up in her, and Meg realized she was very close to doing something very inappropriate in public. When their lips parted, she withdrew her hand from beneath the hem of Fiona’s T-shirt and tried to catch her breath. Laughing self-consciously, she moved back to her side of the booth, stealing a careful look over her shoulder to make sure they hadn’t made a scene. The scattering of diners hadn’t seemed to notice, aside from a skinny young man sitting at the end of the counter. He’d pinged her gaydar when they walked in. He winked at her and she smiled back.
“Are you sure this is your first time? I feel like I’m the newbie now.” She laughed self-consciously. “No. I’ve never felt this way before. And yes, that’s exactly how I feel right now. I’d add something about my heart, but I think you’d say it so much better than me.” Meg played with her spoon, suddenly nervous she had revealed too much, too soon.
“I’m scared.” Fiona seemed to sense Meg’s worry. “But I don’t care. Being with you is worth any risk.”
She couldn’t speak for a moment. With those simple words, Meg knew what she was feeling was love.
59
The rest of the week went by like a car with a tricky transmission—too quickly when Fiona was with Meg, and much too slowly when they were apart. Fiona managed to make it into work the remainder of the week, but getting out of bed was torture. When she was in the office, she did little but daydream about Meg. Her body was alive with feelings and cravings she had never imagined, and when they were together, she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. Between the daydreaming and lack of sleep, she was grateful for the mundane nature of her work. If it had required much more brainpower, guilt would have incapacitated her for not providing her client with the counsel they deserved. When Friday rolled around, she looked forward to sleeping in with Meg the next day. Maybe they wouldn’t get out of bed at all! On the way home, she had a bounce in her step in anticipation.
Her excitement about spending the weekend with Meg increased the closer she got to her apartment. Yet she was almost home when an unexpected bout of insecurity came over her. They hadn’t discussed seeing each other that night. She had assumed they would, like they had every other day since they’d met. But an unfamiliar and unwelcome voice in the back of her mind whispered words of doubt, and Fiona began to worry. Because they had spent every free moment together for the past week didn’t mean Meg wanted to continue doing so.
Fiona’s buoyant mood had nearly evaporated by the time she slid her key into the lock on her front door. She never imagined uncertainty of this kind and was a little embarrassed about how quickly she had let herself become so used to seeing Meg every day.
Fiona changed into shorts and dropped heavily onto her living room sofa. She’d planned to go down to the coffee shop to wait for Meg to get off work, but now she was worried she was being too clingy. Six o’clock approached, Meg’s quitting time, and yet Fiona sat in her too quiet apartment, trying not to think about what Meg was doing. Was Meg thinking about her, too? Fiona knew Meg cared deeply for her. A single touch from her conveyed as much. So why the sudden insecurity? She never imagined love to feel like this.
Wait.
Fiona sat up.
Her heart beat quickly in her chest.
Love?
No. It wasn’t possible to fall in love so quickly. Was it? Maybe she was mistaking lust for love. Meg was the first woman she’d ever slept with. She didn’t get attached. Her life had always been too busy, too complicated. And now, it was more complicated than ever. Was she mixing up the novelty of physical desire with emotional attachment? She didn’t even need to think about it. She knew the answer. It was love. If she took the physical out of the equation, she would feel exactly the same way. The revelation filled Fiona with elation and fear, but the elation won out. Her entire body tingled with happiness, and she hugged herself in barely suppressed joy. More than anything in the world, she wanted to see the woman who held her heart, and she chastised herself for wasting time on insecurity. If Meg told her she had things to do, Fiona would be happy to give her space to do them, but in the meantime, she was going to go see the woman she loved.
*****
She was on her way out the door when her phone rang. Without thinking, she answered.
“I didn’t expect you to answer.”
Shit. She stepped back into her apartment, shut the door, and rested against it. “Uh, hey.”
Mike’s voice sounded small, unsure. Her irritation at him for blowing up her phone with texts and calls over the last few days eased a little when she realized, like her, he was probably having feelings he’d never expected to have before. But, when Mike didn’t respond immediately, she didn’t know what to say to break the silence. Was it up to her, anyway? He’d been the one to call. So, she waited.
His nervous laugh eventually filled the silence. “I didn’t expect you to answer. Now, I don’t know what to say.”
“Maybe you can start with what you were planning to leave in the message,” she suggested.
“I forgot what I was going to say.” He sighed. “Wait. I lied. I was sort of mad about you not talking to me, so I was going to—” He stopped. “Forget it. You answered. So, it doesn’t matter. God, Fi, I’m so glad to hear your voice.”
He sounded like the old Mike. She missed him, but she still didn’t know what to say.
“Are you there?”
“Yeah. I’m here. I’m having a hard time trying to figure out what to say without talking about the thing I don’t want to talk about with you.” There. She’d said it without mentioning it and letting him know she still wasn’t ready to talk to him about it.
“Can I get you to promise m
e you won’t make any decisions without talking to me first?”
“Mike…”
“I don’t think it’s too much to ask. Do you?” He sounded earnest, not angry.
She wanted to tell him he didn’t have any say in the matter, but it wasn’t true. Ultimately, she got to call the shots, but he did deserve to be heard. He wasn’t an asshole. He wasn’t her enemy. He was her friend who provided half the DNA of the hitchhiker currently residing in her womb.
“It’s not too much to ask. I just need some time.”
“So, you’ll talk to me before you make any decisions?”
Should she tell him she’d already decided to keep it? No. He’d probably want to discuss how they’d share custody and she didn’t want to think about it. It was too much to think about. She didn’t want someone else telling her how to take care—. No. She wasn’t ready to discuss it.
She blew out a breath. “Yes. I promise to talk to you. Not now, though. I’m not ready to—”
“It’s cool.” He sounded relieved. “I get it. I know how I feel about all of this. A gazillion different emotions all jumbled up together. I can imagine how you feel about it, what you’re going through.”
That was unexpected. She didn’t think he gave a shit about what she was going through. This was the old Mike she missed.
“Thanks Mike.”
“Can I check back in in a week?”
She wasn’t sure she’d have much more to say to him, but it sounded fair. “Sure. Give me a call next week.”
“You’re the best.” He sounded so relieved. She was glad she could provide him with a little peace. Now if she could just find some for herself.
Without a Net Page 25
