by Harper Bliss
“Buy. And let’s have a proper drink now, please. I’m ready for some serious swallowing.”
She exchanges a few quick words in Italian with the host and the melodic snappiness in her voice gives me goosebumps. He brings us new glasses and fills them with a generous amount of light-yellow liquid.
“A toast.” She angles her glass towards me. “To Helen and John.” The rim of her glass lightly brushes mine, producing a high-pitched clinging sound. “And the magnificent children they’ve produced.”
I don’t know if it’s the wine or the heat or the surprising compliment, but my cheeks flush and I resort to a shy smile.
“You’ll be off the streets in no time.” Rose rests her hand less than an inch away from mine and I’m beginning to wonder if she’s mainly been focusing on swallowing. “Such a catch.”
“Looks like I’ll be driving later then.”
“I’m just pleasantly tipsy. Let’s order some cold cuts and bread.” Her glance lingers on me and I get the distinct impression there’s more than innocent flattery going on. I’m hardly put off by it, but I do have my reservations.
After the snacks arrive we fall into an easy conversation about some of my parents’ and Rose’s mutual friends and how all their offspring are performing. It’s sort of beating around the bush because all the while Rose holds a glimmer in her eyes, something smouldering that unnerves but also arouses me. By the time we leave the winery, both of us sober but one of us more confused than the other, I have an inkling of how I want the day to end, but our shared history and the nature of our relationship keep my thoughts from going all the way.
She stops the car at a deserted patch of woods in a lush green valley off the main road.
“Grab this.” She leans over her seat and snaps up a blanket from the back. Just the sight of it fires up all kinds of alarms in my system. From the boot she produces a cool box with a bottle of the rosé we’ve been drinking all week. “Sorry, no cups,” she shrugs, as if this whole situation is normal.
I follow her to a secluded spot behind five ancient trees. She spreads out the blanket over the wild grass and sits down cross-legged.
“In all the times I’ve come here I’ve only bumped into one other person. He looked about ninety and that was five years ago. Bless him.” She gestures for me to sit next to her. “This is where Michael proposed to me. We’d only been seeing each other six months, but he said that he knew and he had wasted enough time.” She looks out over the green splendour in front of us. “It was my first time here and it was love at first sight. Just like with Michael.” Her voice trembles the way it does when people speak of lost loved ones. “I said yes.”
“I’m honoured that you brought me here.” I take the bottle from her and bring it to my lips. “You know I was extremely fond of him.”
Her hands rest on mine for several seconds when she takes the bottle back. We both stare at them in silence. Rose raises her head first and when I look up to meet her gaze she lets go of the bottle and cups my cheek with her right hand.
“Tell me if you want me to stop.” Her fingers travel to my ear and outline its contour, slowly and sensually, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if this is the wine speaking, or grief, or misplaced affection and I want to care but I also really want to kiss her.
“Have you ever kissed—” I begin.
“Does it matter?” She stops me mid-question and I see the desire in her eyes. Maybe it’s the place and the memories it holds for her or maybe it’s her mid-life crisis. I wonder if I’m supposed to be the moral compass here. The one who shuts this down. “I want you. I think that’s obvious.”
“It’s not that I’m not interested.” The anticipation in her eyes deflates and the moment disappears. Her hand drops from my face, leaving a sizzling reminder of what could have been.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have.” She gulps from the wine and stares out into the distance. “Embarrassed doesn’t even begin to describe it.” She shoots me a sheepish grin before covering her face dramatically behind her hands.
I inch a little closer and curve my arm around her shoulder. “It’s perfectly all right.” I search for some wise words but this situation is too baffling and I have no idea how to make things better. “I just—I don’t know—”
She faces me again, tears staining her cheeks. “I’ve been foolish, but it’s been so long since I felt something like this.” She shakes her head. “You must think I’ve lost my mind.” At last, she can smile again, albeit it very sparsely.
“How about a date?”
“What?”
“We’ve been pussyfooting around it all day, with all the innuendo and such. Let’s make it less awkward by making it official.” I treat her to the warmest, most confident smile I can muster. “I’m asking you out on a date. Tonight.”
She nods her head slightly, letting my words register. “And that will make it less awkward?” She mirrors my smile and the light in her eyes is back.
“Sorry to be so lesbian about it, but I need to process first.”
“At least you are one.” She squeezes my hand, which is still dangling from her shoulder. “There goes my fantasy of some woman love out in the open.”
“We can always come back.” I curl one end of my mouth up. “Depending on how the date goes.”
“My dating skills may be a bit rusty.”
“Judging by the current state of my love life, mine aren’t exactly top-notch either.”
* * *
The date is tense because we can’t find the words. We spend our time blushing under candlelight while stealing furtive glances at each other’s pizza. I barely touch mine because this whole afternoon has made my stomach terribly upset.
“I’ll have to come back here someday. The food looks divine.” I shuffle a cheese-crusted piece of eggplant around on my plate.
“I’ll ask them to wrap it.” Rose clears her throat before she continues. “I realise I crossed a line, but—”
Rose Perkins, always the picture of togetherness and eloquence, is crumbling in front of me. I want to step in, say something, but the words die on my tongue. It’s not that it’s entirely unfeasible, but long before she became part of my family’s life, her late husband was Billy’s godfather and I addressed him as uncle until I deemed myself too cool for it.
She slugs the rest of her wine back and leans over the table.
“Here’s the deal.” For the first time since arriving at this picturesque restaurant with its grandstanding waiters and hedged-off garden, she looks me in the eye. “I never expected this,” she whispers. “But ever since you arrived, the first thing I do in the morning is position my deck chair so I have a view of your window. I count down the minutes until you step out. Then my day begins.” She shakes her head. “I can’t explain it. It’s just how it is.”
Heat flashes through me and my entire body breaks out in a sweat. I wish I had a pool to jump in to rinse this madness off me. I want her too, I know that much, but it’s more complicated than that. “You’re a very beautiful woman,” I start and already it feels inadequate, as if I’m selling her short—or blowing her off. “I’m flattered, of course.” I search for her eyes and find disappointment. “There are just certain sentiments I—” Fearing I may sound like my dad, I correct myself. “I’m a little fragile at the moment and, as much as I would like to reciprocate, part of me believes it’s wrong.” And when did I become such a moralist, I wonder.
“I completely understand.” She plucks her napkin from her lap and tosses it on the table. “I’m sorry to have put you in this position.” Her head tilts towards her watch. “It’s a little early to go back to the house.”
“Any lesbian bars around here?” I try to break the tension. “Just in case you’d like to explore these new feelings you’re experiencing further.”
“I haven’t a clue.” Her smile is forced, the lines bracketing her mouth rigid. “I know somewhere else we can go though.”
As
we exit the restaurant she grabs my wrist and pulls me close. “Let me know if you change your mind.” Her lips are on my ear. “I meant every word I said.”
Her heels clack on the cobblestoned pavement. We leave the car at the bistro and she guides me through a score of dimly lit alleys.
“La bella Rosa,” a barrel-chested guy shouts as we walk into the bar. His shirt strains around his belly and wisps of dark hair peek through the collar. “Please-ah, I reserved the best seat for you.” He makes a spectacle of pulling Rose’s chair back and wiping it clean before allowing her to sit. “Two Limoncello coming right up.”
“Very authentic,” I smirk. “You seem well-loved in this town.”
“Not everyone is impervious to my charms.”
“Trust me, your charms are not the issue.”
She cocks her eyebrows up. “I’m very limber for my age, so it can’t be that either.”
I giggle nervously and question my defences. If she’s going for full-blown alcohol-induced seduction, I’ll be all hers tonight, no matter the family connections. “Have you ever had feelings for a woman before?” I can’t help but ask.
The barkeep interrupts the moment by slamming two shot glasses and a jug of cloudy yellow liquor on our table. “First one is on the house.” He winks at Rose and disappears.
“First one?” I purse my lips together.
“Don’t worry, Fabio will have a cab waiting. This place has excellent service.” She fills both our glasses to the rim. “Bottoms up.”
“I’m fairly certain that’s not how you’re supposed to drink it.”
She bores her eyes into mine. Because of the feeble light in the bar they’re more black than green.
“You’ve disrespected your elders enough for one day, I believe.” She knocks back the shot without losing eye contact and I do the same. “The answer is no.” She brings the empty glass back down with a thud on the wooden table. “I haven’t felt anything like this for anyone in a very long time.” With slender hands, she refills our glasses. It only takes one raised eyebrow from Rose to make me obey and reach for mine. “Perhaps I should feel foolish, but you know what?” She twirls the glass between her fingers and some liquid sloshes over the edge. “I honestly don’t.” She empties her glass and licks the stickiness off her fingers.
“Good for you.” The alcohol I’ve consumed during the course of the day pools heavily in my blood.
“The only thing I regret is spooking you out of sleeping with me.”
Baffled by her straightforwardness, I nearly choke on my drink.
“I should have used more subtlety.” She shoots me a lopsided grin. “Would you have gone for that?” Her expression is more self-deprecating than quizzing and I realise she’s about to throw in the towel.
I scan the room and notice the familiarity of most patrons. Two men sit by the bar and three older couples huddle around a table. My options are limited but I feel like I need to make a move now, before Rose has admitted defeat completely—or before common sense catches up with her. I’m intoxicated enough to ignore certain things about her and, even more than that, I want to kiss her, trace my tongue over her blood-red lips and trap her moans of pleasure in my mouth.
“I’m going to powder my nose.” I stand up, my legs wobbly but my resolve strong. “Follow me in one minute.”
Her eyes go wide before they slit together as my proposition registers. She nods and I take that as my signal to head off. The washroom is tucked behind a narrow door next to the bar. I wash my hands and peer at my reflection in the mirror. Suddenly, the effects of the liquor hit me hard and I need to steady myself against the square white washbasin. The door creaks when Rose enters. She doesn’t say anything, just stares into my eyes while sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. In a split second, she’s beside me and she pushes me into a cubicle, locking the door behind us.
“Yes?” she asks, but her hand is already on my neck and all sense of rationality slips from me. Her body presses against me and her other hand tilts up my chin, like heroes do in romantic movies, and the next thing I know her lips are on mine. The bittersweet sting of Limoncello lingers in her mouth and I need to shove myself hard against the door to not lose my balance completely.
With the back of her fingers, she strokes my cheek as she pulls back to let her eyes rest on me. I don’t see a family friend anymore. All I see is a gorgeous woman who just kissed me straight into paradise.
“Where can we go?” My breath jerks when I speak.
She doesn’t reply—probably because she has no answer—and leans in for a kiss again. Her tongue skates along my lips before darting into my mouth and I wonder how many years of pent-up sexual energy I’m dealing with.
“We’re in no condition to drive and the house is a few miles away. We need a taxi.” She checks her watch, as if she’s timed our bathroom encounter. “And we can’t stay in here for too long.” She flashes me an apologetic smile. “This is rural Italy, after all.”
My mind is so dazed by the alcohol that I’m not perturbed by the thought of macho bartenders. I just want to undo Rose’s blouse and bury myself between her breasts. They’ve taunted me for days from underneath bikini tops. Patience is lost on me as I draw her in for another kiss, but she keeps a clear head and holds me off.
“Trust me. It’ll be all right.” She smooths some wrinkles out of her knee-length skirt and reaches for the doorknob.
I take a deep breath and try to ignore the raw lust shivering up my spine. Rose pulls the door ajar and peeks out before exiting the stall. “The coast is clear,” she whispers and I shuffle behind her. I can’t help but wonder what Jenny is doing on Corfu right now.
I leave some bills on the table while Rose bids adieu to Fabio and arranges our ride home. Now that the lid has come off, it’ll be a challenge to sit next to her without touching her.
In the taxi, my head spins violently. Rose distracts herself by striking up a stunted conversation with the driver. I thank the many stars in the Italian night sky that the villa is only a fifteen-minute ride away and I’m doubly relieved to see that all the lights are out when we pull up in the driveway. Having to face my parents right now would put a serious damper on things.
“They’re on the other side of the hallway, anyway,” Rose states optimistically, but I’m suddenly floored by doubt. We tiptoe to Rose’s room, the one she shared with Michael—and Michael with a slew of other women before her.
“No, not in there.” I pull her away from the door and coax her towards my room. The windows are still open, allowing the night breeze to catch in the curtains. I turn to face her and desire glints in her eyes. “They’re over sixty, but hardly deaf,” I whisper. “We’ll have to be really quiet.”
“No problem.” She extends her hand and I take it. Two fingers run up the inside of my arm and my skin bursts out in goosebumps. Rose wastes no time yanking my top over my head and I soon stand in front of her with just my bra separating my breasts from her lips. My nipples poke against the fabric at the prospect and I let go of my last restraint. I pull her close and kiss her seriously this time. My tongue intrudes deep into her mouth and she seems to draw me even closer. Her hands press against the back of my head and I realise it must have been a while since Rose was kissed like this.
The silence is deafening and the sounds we make appear to amplify around us in the night. She grunts when I lose patience with her blouse and just tears it over her head. The rustle of my pants when they come off seems to produce more decibels than the crickets outside and the whole secrecy of it, the audacity of this fuck, heightens my senses.
I drag her on the bed with me until we lay side by side, peering into each other’s eyes.
“I can’t believe this is happening.” She traces a red nail along my chin and I’m suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. Her skin catches the moonlight falling through the cracks in the curtain while her curly hair frames her high cheekbones. There is no sign of doubt in her eyes, not the slightest hint of hesitation
. I need to have her now. Heat pulses through my body and I can’t wait.
I kiss her gently and manoeuvre my hand to her back where I unclasp her bra. She soon follows suit and I press my breasts against hers. The touch of our nipples releases an electric current in my bones. Maybe the circumstances beg for me to take this slowly, but I couldn’t if I wanted to. I yank at her panties and she writhes her legs together until they come off. I trail a finger through her mound of hair and, even though I’ve barely touched her, she’s already moaning. Our eyes are still on the same level and she blinks once when my fingers travel down and encounter the wetness of her pussy. Foreplay lasted all afternoon and, first time with a woman or not, she’s ready.
I shrug off my underwear and, at last, we’re both completely naked. A fire brews in my belly and there is so much I want to do to her, so much I want to show her. Her hand finds my pussy and she shoots me a devilish grin as she discovers how wet I am.
I hoist myself up with my free arm until I’m on my knees. She follows me and we face each other, kneeling on the bed. I inch closer and pull her in for a kiss while my hands wander down to her breasts. Her nipples stiffen under my touch and I gently squeeze them. My tongue traces a line to her neck while my fingers slither down. I circle her engorged clit a few times and she groans loudly in my ear. I find her eyes and make a shushing sound. I fix my gaze on her while I let one finger disappear into her pussy. Her breath hitches in her throat but she doesn’t close her eyes.
Her hand is back between my legs. Our upper bodies lean against each other and she cups my neck with her other hand for support. I twirl some fingers around her hair and find my balance. While I push a finger into her she retracts hers and we find a matching rhythm. She bucks down every time I enter her and I do the same when she fucks me. Her eyes flutter and her lips grimace as I add more fingers. She does the same and I pant and groan and don’t care about the noise we’re producing anymore.
“Oh yes, yes,” she says and the sound of her voice sets me off. My pussy clutches itself around her fingers as I bury mine inside her. The first wave grabs me and expands through my belly until it reaches my tingling limbs. I gush all over Rose’s hand and catch a glimpse of her smile. I try to recompose quickly because I’m still fucking her. I push her down onto the bed and lick my lips.