She slides the strap of my shirt down next, baring my breast to the cool night air. I feel my nipple tighten, and when she lowers her mouth and laves it with her tongue, my head tips back and I close my eyes. Heaven. She grazes her teeth over the taut peak, making my hips shoot off the wall, and I ride her thigh as she rode mine. Writhing against her, getting wetter by the second, closer to coming apart. She frees my other breast, and my shirt falls, hitching around my shorts, leaving me bare from the waist up. I should be afraid, nervous, embarrassed to be so exposed with all those people nearby, but I’m not any of those things. I’m so excited I barely care that they’re there. It helps to know that no one will come around this side of the house. No one ever does, and I wouldn’t stop Ashley if my life depended on it.
I want this. I want her. Being with her feels completely different from being with Janessa. Ashley’s not my teacher. I want to bring pleasure to every ounce of her body, and I want to disappear into her touch as she pleasures me. I want to memorize the feel of her skin, the curves of her hips, the taste of her. I want to figure out how she likes to be touched. I want to know about her life, her family, and—Fuck! My thoughts stop as she squeezes my nipple between her finger and thumb, sending a spear of heat between my legs.
“Ah,” she whispers against my lips. “You like that.”
I can’t answer. It’s all I can do to remember to breathe. She squeezes my nipple again as her lips meet mine, and I go up on my toes. My hand moves between her legs without any thought or guidance from my brain. My body knows what it wants, and it doesn’t need a road map. She widens her stance, an invitation I’m not about to ignore. I slide my fingers beneath her underwear. She’s so wet, my body actually shudders.
“And you like that, too,” she says against my lips, then sinks her teeth into my neck and sucks as I slide my fingers deep inside her.
Her mouth feels too good on my neck, distracting me from focusing on what I learned last night. I probe and touch, letting my mind go numb and my body take over. Doing it right is off the table. I’m lost in doing it at all with Ashley. Seconds later her head falls back and she moans in pleasure as her wetness pulses against my fingers over and over again. Seeing her eyelashes flutter, hearing the sexy noises tearing from her lungs and knowing I made her come makes me want to do more, but she doesn’t give me a chance. Her mouth crashes over mine and she rips open my shorts and shoves her hand down the front, fingering me as she rides my thigh again. Feeling her wetness against my flesh with her fingers buried deep inside me takes me right up to the edge.
“Ash—”
She seals her lips over mine, capturing my cries of passion as she makes me come again and again, until we’re both breathing so hard we have to lean against each other just to remain erect. She presses her lips to mine.
“God, Delilah. What you do to me…” With trembling hands she rights my bra, my blouse, my shorts, her skirt—it’s a good thing, because I can’t move—and she collapses against me.
~Ashley~
PRESSED AGAINST DELILAH, feeling her heart beat against mine, her whispers across my cheek, surpasses anything I’ve ever experienced. I don’t know what came over me when she dragged me back here. I didn’t know if she was messing with me, pissed at me, or what, but when she asked about Drake, the look in her eyes left no room for misinterpretation. Whether she was going for an I-want-you seductive stare or not, that’s what she conveyed, and I couldn’t wonder for another second. I had to know, once and for all, if she wanted me or not.
Music from the party filters into my consciousness again, and I wonder how long we’ve been back here. It feels like a lifetime. The best lifetime I’ve ever lived. I lift my head from her shoulder and press my lips to hers. I can’t stop myself from deepening the kiss. Even after everything we’ve just done, I want more of her. I want to see her hair spread out on my pillow, her naked body on my sheets. I want to taste and experience every inch of her. I want to walk down the street and hold her hand. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her when the feeling hits and know that when she goes home at night, it’s the curve of my hips she feels in her palms.
I kiss the corners of her mouth. “Why didn’t you tell me you were into me?”
She shrugs, and now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark, I can see that her cheeks are flushed. She drops her eyes and fidgets with the edge of her shorts.
“Hey.” I lift her chin so I can see her eyes. “Are you okay? I mean, you seemed to be okay a second ago, but…”
“Yes. Yes, more than okay. I…You…” She presses her forehead to my chest and I stroke the back of her neck.
“Your shy side is showing,” I tease to lighten the mood.
She smiles up at me. Thank God. I worried she was regretting what we’d done.
“You’ve probably figured this out already, but I’m not very experienced at this.” She traps her lower lip between her teeth, and she’s so cute I have to kiss her again. And again.
Okay, one more kiss for good measure.
She laughs, a soft, feminine laugh that I don’t hear nearly enough, and it warms my heart.
“I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“No?” Her brows knit together, and she presses her hand over my heart.
I cover her hand with mine. “No. You’re perfect.”
She stares at me for a long time, and I wish I could read her thoughts. Then, without a word, she moves her hand and steps out of the alcove and into the glare of lights from the party. I reach for her hand and she stops walking. The blood drains from her face, and her jaw drops open. She points over her shoulder toward the front yard.
“I’m…I’m going…inside to wash up.” She turns and walks away without waiting for me.
Warning bells go off in my head, and I catch up to her, thinking more about what she’s said. Wondering why she said she’s inexperienced and why she’s acting like we didn’t just practically climb inside each other’s bodies.
“Are you okay?” I ask, feeling like I’ve missed something she wants me to know.
“Uh-huh. I just want to get cleaned up.” She goes in the front door and ignores the people milling about in the kitchen. I follow her upstairs to her bedroom. She opens a dresser drawer, grabs a pair of underwear, and then heads into the bathroom.
What the hell?
I’ve been in Delilah’s room a dozen times, and it’s never felt so cold, so lonely. I feel like I don’t belong, when, if anything, what we did should make me feel like I belong even more. She comes out of the bathroom smelling like soap and scented body lotion. Three seconds ago I preferred the heady scent of desire, but right now I don’t know what to think. I go into the bathroom to give us both some space to think. When I come out of the bathroom, she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, fidgeting with the seam of her shorts. She smiles up at me, but it’s not a real smile. It’s her hesitant smile, the one that means she has something to say, but she doesn’t always come forward with whatever it is.
I kneel before her and place my hands on her thighs. “Delilah, if you regret what we did, you need to tell me.”
She shakes her head, and tears fill her eyes. “I don’t. I promise.”
Tears. Oh, Delilah, what is it?
“What is it, then? Because seeing you sad makes me sad. Please talk to me. I thought we just connected like I’ve never connected with anyone in my whole life.”
“Me too.” She blinks through her tears.
I reach up and wipe them with my thumb, then gather her in my arms. “I wish you’d share with me whatever’s upsetting you. I can’t help if I don’t understand.”
“It’s everything. I feel so much for you, but I feel guilty for feeling it, and I know you deserve to be with someone who will hold your hand and hold their head high out there at that party, but…” She pulls out of my arms and turns away.
“But?” I sit beside her, trying to rein in the thoughts racing through my mind and convince myself not to jump to conclusions, which
is pretty difficult given what she’s just said. I’m not sure I can go through being someone’s secret girlfriend again, and I get the impression that’s where she’s headed.
“But my parents really fucked me up, Ash.” She turns pain-filled eyes toward me. Her hair curtains her face, and her voice is so soft I have to lean in close to hear her.
“I never…you know…did any of that before last night because my parents were so against it, and—”
“Last night?” Holy shit. Are you kidding me?
She swallows hard, and I know the answer before I ask the question.
“You were with Janessa?” I can’t keep my voice from shaking.
“Not really the way I was with you.”
That helps a little, but something tells me she’s not being straight with me. “What do you mean, not really?” I grip my thighs to keep from fisting my hands.
“She…I…” She walks to the other side of the room and leans on her desk, her back to me. Her head drops between her shoulders. “She helped me learn how to…”
“Helped you…? So you were with her like that.”
“No. Yes.” Delilah pushes from the desk and paces. “You can’t be upset with me. You and I weren’t even together yesterday. I did it so I could be with you, Ashley. Not because I wanted to be with her.”
I feel like my throat is closing. She’s not even making sense. I pray I’m misunderstanding what she’s trying to say.
I rise to my feet, and our eyes lock. “Tell me if I’m understanding this correctly. You had sex with Janessa so you could have sex with me?”
She shrugs. “I had no experience.”
Just thinking about Delilah kissing Janessa, touching her like she touched me, and vice versa, makes me want to run back to my apartment, but I force myself to stay and figure it out. I want so badly to be with Delilah. This can’t be happening. I’m clinging to a hope that doesn’t exist rather than accepting the truth.
I force the calmest tone I can, which isn’t very calm at all. “So, you liked me yesterday?”
“Yes. I’ve liked you since we first met. A lot.”
“But instead of coming to me, you went to Janessa, a girl you see only one night a week at therapy? Boy, isn’t she the lucky one? Did she talk you into it? Were you even into girls? How did you go through college and…?” We’ve never talked about this, and now another fear bowls me over. If she’s bisexual, then I will never be enough for her. Been there, done that. “Are you a lesbian, or are you bisexual?”
She’s trembling as she opens her mouth to speak, but no words come. Her eyes fill with something that I can’t read. Fear? Sadness? Finality?
She opens her mouth again and whispers, “Yes. I’m a lesbian.” Her brows draw together, and she looks like she’s just bared her soul.
Relief floods my body. I have to move, to give her space, to give myself space to process the enormity of what she’s saying. I pace, shaking my head. “I still don’t get it.”
Delilah sinks back down to the mattress, and I realize that she did just bare her soul. “Let me try to explain again.”
“No. I understand what you’re saying. You never acted on your feelings toward girls because your parents were against it.”
Delilah lets out a relieved sigh. “Yes.”
“And when you finally decided to, you went to Janessa instead of me.”
“God, Ash. That sounds really bad. I didn’t even know if you were straight or not.” She says this so softly it breaks my heart, but it isn’t a salve for my hurt.
“You could have asked.”
“Why are you putting this all on me? If you were so into me, you could have told me!” She covers her face with her hands and groans. “This is so fucked-up.”
“I didn’t know if you were into girls or not!” I cross my arms to try to gain control of my anger.
“I didn’t either!” she yells, and pushes from the bed again. She closes the distance between us, and her eyes fill with anger, which I know mirrors mine. She’s shaking as much as I am.
“I thought I liked girls, but how could I know for sure without ever kissing a girl? How could I know if I’d like touching a girl or having my fingers inside of her or putting her breast in my mouth?” She’s so angry, I’m afraid to interrupt her.
“Damn it, Ashley. I didn’t want you to be the person I fumbled with my first time. I didn’t want to screw things up with a girl I was falling head over heels for with every passing second.” She turns away and runs her hand through her hair quickly out of frustration.
Head over heels. The words hit me with the impact of a bullet train.
“I don’t feel anything but friendship toward Janessa, and if you want the truth, I’m thankful.” Her back is to me, but I hear every determined word clear as day. She faces me again, her eyes locked on mine, her hands fisted at her sides.
“I’m wicked thankful, because without Janessa offering herself up to help me figure things out, I’d still be on the corner of Lust and What-the-Fuck every time I looked at you.”
“Delilah—”
“No.” She lowers her voice. “Let me finish. Now I know for sure, Ashley. I may not be comfortable with letting the whole world know yet, but I know in my heart, without a shadow of a doubt, who I am, and that’s a huge start for me. I feel like I’ve found my true self. You can’t imagine how hard it is to live inside a steel box, worrying that if you let your true emotions out, your parents will disown you.”
“Dee…” I reach for her hand and she pulls away.
She shakes her head. “No. Just…Don’t.”
I hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. We both look toward the sound as Wyatt appears in the doorway. Delilah turns her back to him.
“Dee? Ashley? You guys okay?” Wyatt’s stare is intense. His jaw is set tight as he comes behind Delilah and touches her shoulders. It kills me when she turns in to his embrace so easily instead of mine.
He looks at me over her shoulder and arches a brow. I don’t even know what to say, so I drop my eyes.
“What can I do?” Wyatt asks. “How can I help?”
Delilah’s fraying at every seam. I know she’s mortified and hurt, and I hate that I can’t fix it. She pushes out of Wyatt’s arms and waves a dismissive hand at him as she wipes the tears from her eyes.
“We’re fine. I just lost it,” she manages.
Wyatt’s concerned eyes bounce between us, and as the things Delilah said to me start to become clearer, I feel like a jerk. I didn’t want you to be the person I fumbled with my first time. I didn’t want to screw things up with a girl I was falling head over heels for…
“Can you give us a few minutes, Wy?” she asks.
“Of course. Whatever you need.” Wyatt turns his attention to me. “Ashley, are you okay?”
I’m so touched that he can focus on me when his sister is having such a hard time, it’s all I can do to nod.
“Okay. If you need me, just holler. But you might want to close that door.” He points to the open door leading to the deck.
Fuck. If he heard us arguing, how many other people did? That’s when I realize that the band must be taking a break. There’s no music to muffle a damn thing. I pull the door closed, wondering if tonight could get any worse or any more awkward.
After Wyatt leaves, I go to Delilah and open my arms. “Forgive me for being jealous?”
She shakes her head and falls into my arms. Her conflicting messages have me baffled, but she’s letting me hold her, and that’s all I care about.
She doesn’t need to know that Thursdays have now become my least favorite night of the week.
“I’m sorry I’m such a loser.” I hear her smile, and I press a kiss to the side of her head.
“You’re not a loser.”
She leans back and searches my eyes. There’s so much more I want to say, that we have to talk about, like the fact that she’s not out and I’m not sure I can deal with living a secret life again. But I don’t p
ush her. I know, or I hope, we’ll have time to figure this out. Even my worst fear—being someone’s dirty little secret—isn’t enough to hold me back from Delilah. She claimed a piece of me the first night we met, and right now there’s only one thing I want to know for sure. The rest can wait.
“Do you still want to be with me, Dee?”
She nods, but fear lingers in her eyes.
“Just me? Do you want to be my girlfriend? Because I don’t want to share. I’m not…I can’t. I can’t be with you and share you in that way with Janessa or anyone else.”
She nods, and when our lips come together, our salty tears seep between them, slippery reminders of how far we’ve come and how very far we have to go.
Chapter Six
~Delilah~
PEOPLE SAY THAT one night can change your whole life. What they don’t tell you is how to deal with those changes. After being with Janessa, I thought the rest would come easily. That once I was certain I liked being intimate with women, I’d have no problem following my feelings. I know our friends will accept me. Tristan is gay, and Brandon is bisexual, and none of our friends have ever blinked an eye at either of them. But while coming together with Ashley on a physical and emotional level definitely came easily once we were alone in that alcove, the minute we stepped outside of that private space, the rest knocked me off-kilter.
To say that I was disappointed in myself for not walking back into the party holding Ashley’s hand would be the understatement of the year. I hated myself for walking the opposite way. I hated knowing I was hurting her, hated knowing I was hurting myself, but no matter how much I wanted to walk into that party with her—And boy did I ever want to—I couldn’t.
I’ve held her hand a million times in public. I’ve held Cassidy’s hand, walked arm in arm with Brooke—but we weren’t making a statement; we were just friends walking around Harborside.
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