Strike a Match

by Fiona Riley

  “She likes you.” Valeria appeared at her side as Sasha walked away.

  “I like her, too.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She did like Sasha. But maybe admitting that out loud for the first time—to Sasha’s mother no less—wasn’t the wisest idea. She blamed Sasha’s blistering kiss for knocking her off her game.

  Valeria nodded. “What’s not to like? She’s a gift.” Spoken like a true mother and sounding so much like Sasha. “But that’s not what I mean.”

  “It’s not?” Abby was confused and more than a little worried Valeria overheard some of their exchange before Sasha left—that would be embarrassing.

  “No.” Valeria shook her head and sighed. She walked toward the solarium outside Duncan’s room and sat heavily on a bench, patting the space next to her for Abby to join her.

  “Duncan has always been Sasha’s hero. She was a daddy’s girl from birth. Everything he ever did she tried to mimic, to emulate him in some way. After the fire, that reverence doubled. She was dead set on finding a career in which she could help people and make a positive impact in people’s lives like her father had in hers. It was a cruel irony that she found that passion in firefighting.” Valeria looked at the door to Duncan’s room as she spoke, almost like if she spoke too loudly, he might hear. “I’m terrified she will meet the same fate as her father, being brave and foolish and doing something rash that takes her from me far too soon. She doesn’t need to fight fires to be someone’s hero—she’s got all the qualities to be that now. She already is. She has kept our family together. She’s our savior, her father’s champion—none of that has ever been in question.”

  Her brow creased and the stress of her life settled on her beautiful features. Abby could read in Valeria’s face how Duncan’s decision had forever changed this family. She looked at Abby in that moment. “Sasha is bullheaded like me. Fearless like her father. But soft and gentle like herself. She’s sweet and kind and would give you the shirt off her back if she thought it would make your day better.” She paused, appraising Abby briefly before she continued. “She likes you. But I see the way she looks at you. It’s more than that. You’re special to her.”

  An alarm sounded in Duncan’s room and a nurse ran in. Valeria’s whole body tensed and Abby reached for her hand out of instinct. The noise ceased and the nurse exited the room, informing them not to worry, that one of the wires had come loose. But Abby did worry. And clearly, Valeria worried as well.

  Valeria squeezed her hand and patted it as she exhaled, the crisis seemingly averted for the moment. Her dark eyes, so like Sasha’s and yet so different as well, looked at Abby almost pleadingly. “She will need help now. Her hero is failing. Everything she has ever known will be extinguished before she’s ready for it. Before any of us are…”

  Her wording was not lost on Abby. She shifted closer and took Valeria’s hand in her own, cradling it. “She’s special to me, too. I won’t let her down.”

  Abby was having an out of body experience. It was like her mouth had a mind of its own. She was hearing these words and living them for the first time, at the same time.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Sasha stood over them carrying a tray of coffees with a look of concern on her face.

  Abby was too caught up in her own thoughts to figure out what Sasha was talking about. Thankfully, Valeria seemed to have her shit together. She squeezed Abby’s hand before she released it. “It’s nothing, love. We were just talking.” Abby didn’t miss the warning glance Valeria gave her as Sasha paced by the door of her father’s room. She figured there was no need to tell Sasha about the alarm shock that she just missed.

  “Jesus, Ma. I’m glad you and Abby get along and all but if you’re gonna be all cuddled up like that holding hands, I’m going to think the worst.” Sasha looked a little pale.

  “What? That she realizes I’m a much more attractive, mature version of you? Really, Sasha. I thought I raised a more confident woman than to be jealous of your own mother.” Valeria stood and accepted the coffee Sasha handed her. She kissed Sasha’s cheek. “She only has eyes for you, dear. Don’t worry.”

  “Ma. I wasn’t worried about…That’s not what I—” Sasha sputtered. It was cute.

  “Sh. I know. I’m joking. Your father’s fine. I’m going to sit with him now.” Valeria patted her on the shoulder and headed toward the door, pausing to add, “She’s got very soft hands though, Sash.”

  The wadded-up napkin narrowly missed her as she walked through the door.

  Abby popped the lid off her latte and inspected the foam level. Sasha was watching her with great interest. She dipped her finger in, gathering some foam, and proceeded to lick it off, making sure Sasha had a clear view. She recapped the latte and leaned in to Sasha’s ear to whisper, “Maybe you can do more than just watch, later.”

  Sasha laughed and kissed her. She handed Abby a bag containing an assortment of pastries and said, “I got you something special.”

  Her conversation with Valeria was fresh in her mind as she broke the chocolate croissant in two, handing a piece to Sasha, their fingers brushing briefly. This was something special indeed.

  *****

  Sasha sighed and closed her eyes as Abby’s mouth descended upon her breast, her tongue working Sasha’s nipple in that tantalizing way that made Sasha shiver and quake all over. It was something that Abby had picked up on over the last nights that she and Sasha had gotten close. Truthfully, Sasha hadn’t even been aware she had such a sensitive trigger spot but—evidently—she did.

  “Your skin is so soft.” Abby’s lips broke contact with her skin just long enough to tease her. “This is my favorite part of the morning.”

  Sasha threaded her fingers through Abby’s hair, tousling the blond mass on her chest and holding her close. Her chest rose and fell with increased frequency as Abby’s fingers skimmed the inside of her thigh, pressing in and skating away, only to return and repeat the torture. Her sex buzzed with anticipation and want. Abby had a way of winding her up and leaving her there to drown in her arousal. It was agony.

  “More than coffee?” Sasha tried to relieve some of the building pressure by spreading her legs a little, inviting Abby to touch her instead of only tease her.

  Abby sucked hard on her nipple and she saw stars. “Mm-hmm. More than coffee.”

  Sasha’s shifted again, trying to bring her center closer to Abby’s hand, which was tauntingly evasive at the moment. “Abby.”

  “Sasha.” Abby moved to her other breast, licking along the skin while she massaged the skin of the breast she had just abandoned, the nipple sore and erect from Abby’s mouth play. It all felt amazing and Sasha’s body twitched with pleasure, but her focus was on the fingers that now danced around her lips, gathering wetness and spreading them slightly before retreating. Sasha felt like she might explode.

  “Abby.” She tried again, her voice shaky at best.

  “Tell me.” Abby spread her lips and dipped in just enough to send a wave of pleasure through Sasha’s abdomen. “Tell me, Sash.”

  “Fuck.” Sasha palmed her own breast to keep from touching herself—this was the most fantastic torture she had ever experienced.

  Abby released her nipple to kiss along her sternum, settling just under Sasha’s chin, licking the skin along her neck. She pressed her body down on Sasha’s, trapping Sasha’s hand at her breast while her right hand continued its teasing ministrations. She husked in Sasha’s ear, “Tell me. Tell me and make the teasing stop.”

  Sasha bit her lip to quiet the moan that was bubbling up in the back of her throat. This was her favorite sex with Abby—the long, teasing, sensual kind where Abby wanted her to beg for release. It was exactly the kind of thing that Sasha dreamed about when they were apart—ceding control to Abby to give her what had turned out to be the best sex of her life. But she had to say it. She had to ask to come.

  “Fuck me, Abby. Please. Fuck me.” Sasha had reached her breaking point. If Abby didn
’t help her, she’d come from the teasing alone, something that had happened more than once over the course of their new relationship. She couldn’t remember another time in her sexual life that just the foreplay and promise of sex could bring her to the finish line. And yet, it had. A few times. “Make me come.”

  “Good girl.” Abby rewarded her with slick, coated fingers inside her, moving slow and steady until Sasha bucked her hips, taking Abby in deeper. Abby bit down on her earlobe and breathed encouragement in her ear with every deepened thrust. “You’re so tight, Sash. So wet. Does that feel good? Tell me more, Sasha. Tell me what feels the best.”

  Sasha couldn’t form words. She wasn’t even sure she was breathing. She felt light-headed, all her blood rushing everywhere but her brain. Abby’s thumb brushed over her clit and the room spun. “There. Please, Abby, there. Don’t stop. I need—”

  “What? What do you need?” Abby’s mouth was on hers, her tongue coaxing Sasha’s to speak, to ask, to beg. She pressed on Sasha’s clit and Sasha cried out. “Is this what you need?”

  “Yes.” Sasha was right at the brink. She tried desperately to slow the crescendo, wanting Abby to bring her over the edge, but she was so close, it would be a matter of only seconds now if she—

  Abby kissed her hard and pressed her thumb to Sasha’s clit as she thrust in and out slowly, bringing Sasha across the precipice and drawing out Sasha’s tremors, prolonging her ecstasy.

  Sasha curled into Abby, her muscles twitching and her body on fire. Her sweat-covered skin pressed against Abby’s as Abby continued her unhurried thrusts, bringing her down gently until the sensation was too much for Sasha to handle.

  She grabbed Abby’s wrist for respite, trying to catch her breath. Abby turned her hand and guided Sasha’s hand between her own legs, coating Sasha’s fingers with her own wetness.

  “That. That’s the best part of my morning. How wet you get for me. How turned on you are. That never gets old.” Abby slid to Sasha’s side and licked the tips of Sasha’s fingers before intertwining their fingers.

  Sasha’s body hummed. She tattooed the image of Abby cleaning her fingers to memory and vowed to revisit it often. “You’re something else, you know that? I—I can’t even. You’re perfect.” She leaned forward and kissed her, overwhelmed by everything that was Abby Rossmore.

  “I’m not. But thank you.” Abby’s eyes were so green in this light, the low light of the morning, when the sun peeked over the trees and spilled into her childhood bedroom. It seemed silly that they continued to return here, and yet, it felt right.

  Abby snuggled up to her side and yawned as she rested her head on Sasha’s collarbone. Sasha felt such peace in that moment. Having Abby here by her side was making her feel all sorts of things. She felt such a deep connection with Abby. One that she hadn’t expected would be possible. One that she might have missed out on had she not run into Abby at Samantha’s wedding. How many times had they almost made a connection during those mixers? How close had she come to not realizing that Abby was everything she had been looking for and more? “You know, we could do this sometime in an adult-sized bed.”

  Abby’s laugh vibrated across her chest. Her eyes were closed, her lips bright pink and plump from their wake-up today. They looked delicious. “I feel like I’d never be able to find you in a regular-sized bed. You’d be so far away.”

  “I’d never go too far. I like being this close to you.” She did. In more ways than one. She’d realized she was starting to fall for Abby the night she showed up at the hospital, when her father was first admitted. Something about Abby walking into that room gave her such hope, such lightness. Like, no matter what happened, she could get through it. She never would have thought that such tragedy would have brought her such clarity. Abby wasn’t just some fling or physical crutch she was using to get through a difficult time. Abby was the calm at the end of a rough day of machine beeps and her father’s failing health. Abby was the rainbow at the end of the storm, and yet, even in the thick of this family crisis, Sasha felt safe and cared for.

  “I love that.” Abby opened her eyes and Sasha let herself get lost in them for a minute.

  Sasha loved that, too. She loved that Abby wasn’t uncomfortable with her desire for closeness. She felt so grounded when she could reach out and touch Abby, even just on the hand at the hospital when the doctors made rounds and spoke about her father like he was some nameless face, all clinical and detached. She knew she could just touch Abby’s hand and not be alone in this for once. It was everything to her. “Listen, why don’t we do something together this week. You know, outside of the hospital and the reacquainting we’ve been doing. Let’s go out. Together. I’d like to take you out.”

  Abby gave her that lazy, satiated smile that she loved so much, the one that followed their lovemaking. The one that greeted her every night and every morning they spent together. “More glassblowing?”

  “Ha-ha. No, something more, I don’t know, intimate.” Sasha realized she had to pick up their bowl at some point. She had all but forgotten about it when her father went into the hospital.

  “I thought that was a pretty intimate date.” Abby licked her lips. “I mean, you got pretty intimately acquainted with my pussy that night. There are few things more intimate than that, if you ask me.”

  Sasha moaned. Abby had the filthiest mouth and mind ever. She had always prided herself on being a sexual being, but Abby brought it to a whole other level entirely. “This is true.”

  “I only speak in truths.” Abby kissed her, sucking on her lips for a moment. “And unfortunately, the truth is I have to go to work today, but there aren’t any clothes for me here, so I have to do the walk of shame into my building and change beforehand.”

  “That truth sucks.” Sasha pouted. She had the next two days off from the firehouse and she wanted to spend every moment with Abby. “It’s too bad you’re just a lowly bachelorette candidate like me and not some wildly wealthy socialite like the ones Samantha tried to pair us with, because then you’d have no responsibilities in the world and could just stay in bed with me all day.”

  Abby’s brow furrowed and she blinked. She almost looked…offended.

  Sasha backpedaled. “I’m not complaining. I’m thrilled you’re normal and approachable and down-to-earth—”

  “And fuckable,” Abby deadpanned.

  “Right, that, too.” Sasha exhaled. “I’m not doing this very eloquently, but I’m just so grateful that you didn’t get scooped up by some entitled, privileged lady who lunches.”

  “Good thing.” Abby’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She pecked Sasha on the lips and slipped out from under the sheets, dressing quickly. “I’ll swing by the hospital after work. Will you be there around dinnertime?”

  Sasha stretched, grateful she had time to nap before relieving her mother later. “I should be. Just text me.”

  Abby finished buttoning her shirt and dug her purse out from under the discarded comforter on the floor. She blew Sasha a kiss as she headed out of Sasha’s bedroom. “I’ll lock up when I leave. Have a good day.”

  And just like that, Abby was gone. Sasha lay there for a moment, replaying the morning. Had she offended Abby? She felt like Abby left a little abruptly. But then again, Abby did say she had to go home and change before work. She looked over at the clock. It was almost eight in the morning. Abby would probably have to hustle to get a start on the day. She closed her eyes and felt sleep tugging at her. She decided she was overthinking it. She just needed a little rest and she could worry or not worry about it later. Things with Abby were going so well. Why let her insecurity ruin everything?

  Chapter Twenty

  Abby woke up in Sasha’s childhood bed, wrapped up in Sasha’s arms, for the seventh time in the past two weeks. Someone had once told Abby that two weeks was the amount of time it took for a habit or routine to form.

  They had fallen into a sort of after-work routine, where Abby would join Sasha and her mother at the hospital be
fore she retired for the night. If Sasha didn’t have a station shift the following morning, they went back to her parents’ house. They’d catch up with each other about their days, they would kiss and have a passionate exchange that lasted hours into the evening or spilled into the early morning, and then Sasha would snuggle up to Abby—at which time she’d forget all about the life that existed outside that bedroom door. They had joked about going to their respective apartments once or twice, but there was something so safe and inviting about Sasha’s childhood home. It seemed like Sasha felt better being in such close proximity to the hospital in case something happened, but also that it was familiar to her.

  Abby had seen her stare off into the distance or get lost looking at family photos. She knew this was a difficult time for her, so it had been completely fine with her that they continue this little tradition. It was working, so why stop? But it was more than that. Selfishly Abby didn’t want to disrupt the way things were going. Being with Sasha made her feel so…complete. So whole. The sex was divine, but there was so much more to Sasha than just that. She was sensitive but cocky at the same time. Their conversations were easy and engaging, and they never struggled to find something to talk or laugh about. And getting to know Sasha’s mother was an unexpected bonus. Valeria was sweet and playful—Abby could see where Sasha got her humor and sarcasm. She loved the opportunity to get to know Valeria almost as much as she loved her nights with Sasha. Almost.

  This relationship was the whole package. The more time she spent with Sasha, the more invested she felt. She wanted to be there for Sasha, to be with her. But she knew that she could only avoid the elephant in the room for so long. Abby still hadn’t come clean to Sasha, and if she’d had Sasha up to her penthouse downtown, the jig would have been up. Her home, although modest compared to her mother’s palatial estate, was not the home of a nonprofit accountant. It was the home of an heiress, with a multimillion dollar view of the city, and it came with all the perks that such a luxurious lifestyle could afford. The doorman and concierge made sure she never entered the building without a smile or someone offering to carry her bags. The valet made sure her car was maintained and temperature controlled whenever she called for it. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to have her car serviced or had to fill her own gas tank. This was the kind of lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, the kind of thing she had taken for granted. And now, suddenly, it felt shameful.