by Harper Bliss
Her spasms around my fingers, her bucking up against my tongue like that, is quite possibly the best moment of my life so far. Because it’s the epitome of so many things. I wasn’t going to do this again. I wasn’t going to fall in love again and subject another woman to my stubbornness and my singular antics. I most certainly wasn’t going to let another woman make me feel better about myself. But Zoe has done so much more than that.
“Dios mio,” she says, while I gently, slowly, slide out of her. “Come here.”
I lie down beside her and she kisses me crazily on the cheek and then the head, showering me with kisses and drawing me into a tight hug, until we both burst into chuckles.
“Thank you,” she says.
“You’re very welcome.” I can’t help but giggle.
“No, seriously. Thank you.”
“You’re seriously welcome.” I kiss her on the lips and she immediately draws me into a passionate lip-lock again.
“All I wanted was a bed for the night,” she says, holding me at arm’s length, after the kiss.
“Could have fooled me.”
She raises her eyebrows high. “I would have waited as long as you thought necessary.”
“I know,” I say, because I do, and that’s a key contributing factor to us being in this bed right now. “I’m glad you asked to stay.”
Zoe nods as though she understands and maybe she does, but it’s highly unlikely that she would get what I really mean by that, but it’s okay. I’ve learned that it’s not required for anyone, not even the woman I love, to fully grasp everything I say. Because it’s not on Zoe that she doesn’t understand. It’s due to my garbled ways of expressing myself.
What I really mean is that once I get past that initial fear, the pang of dread when intimacy is required, I can enjoy sex as much as anyone. But it’s that first hurdle, sometimes followed by a second and a third, that’s always so hard to overcome. That initial resistance to change my current state of relative peace. The reluctance to temporarily remove some bricks from the wall that guards my heart—to relinquish all control. Maybe one day I’ll make an effort to tell her this. Because Zoe is the kind of person I could tell things like that. Because she’s also the person I’m sleeping with now.
“Did I say I’ll need a place to stay tomorrow night as well?” Zoe smiles broadly at me.
“We can negotiate that later.”
She nods again, then moves toward me. She kisses me deeply and warmly and, just like that, she seems to be able to just be in her body, to simply enjoy whatever actions her body is engaged in, while shutting out her brain, and that’s the one thing I can never do. I’m a touch jealous of her total abandon, even though I know being jealous is utterly futile. But what I can do is enjoy her kiss. Her soft, warm skin against me. The feel of her ass in my palm—and Zoe does have a glorious ass.
So I let my hand drift toward her behind again, and my fingers dig deep into its flesh. Her breasts, equally divine, press against mine, and one thing Zoe has managed to do by being so unselfconscious is to let me be easily naked around her. When I took off my T-shirt and then my bra, there was not a single doubt that she wanted me. If there had been, I would have known—because no one can be so good an actress as to fake that kind of desire.
Zoe’s complete lack of inhibition and lusciously free ways have an advantageous effect on my own self-image. While I do truly believe she’s a thousand times more beautiful than me—because she just is—she has never made me feel that I’m any less than her, in any way.
She maneuvers herself so she lies half on top of me, the weight of her body a pleasant sensation on mine. I could sleep like this, I think, with Zoe’s warm softness wrapped around me, her presence pushed against me, and it’s a thought that surprises me, because I’m a light sleeper who needs all sorts of requirements fulfilled before I lay my head down at night. Having another person in the room would be defying a lot of my bedtime rules. Then I eagerly push the thought from my head, because sleeping is not yet on the agenda, and for this, too, I’m very glad.
I might not have Zoe’s capacity for abandon, to surrender to the touch of another person easily, but being inside her has left my body in a state of great arousal, a tension building between my legs that won’t go away on its own.
“Can I touch you?” she whispers in my ear. She’s had her hands all over me already, but I know what she means.
“Yes,” I say, my voice shooting up a bit, because I want my consent to be clear and unambiguous.
“Can I do all the things you did to me?” she continues in a whisper.
“Yes,” I say, and swallow hard. The mere thought of her doing what I just did to her makes a shiver of arousal run down my spine. To be in bed with a woman like Zoe is like a very hot and audacious dream come true.
Then she doesn’t say anything anymore, but briefly grazes her teeth over my earlobe and the hotness of her breath sends another shiver down my body, all the way to my pulsing clit.
Her lips find mine again and her tongue slips into my mouth. I hold her close to me and then I wonder why I’ve waited so long to do this, because Zoe has me in such a state of excitement, I forget who I really am. And it takes a little forgetting to even believe that I’m here, in my bed with her. Although the evidence is overwhelming. Zoe’s delicious breasts press against me, and her lips move down my neck, while my nipples reach up in anticipation.
When she wraps her lips around my nipple, something inside me seems to explode. A new energy runs through me, like a bullet of lust being fired from inside my core. Her hand caresses my other breast gently, until her fingers latch on to my nipple, and while she sucks one nipple deeply into her mouth, her fingers tweak the other, and it’s like she just found the button to switch off the never-ending alertness in my brain that’s always on the lookout for some sort of danger—usually non-existent, but my brain doesn’t seem to care about that.
Even though I can’t see her face, I can still see her smile on the inside of my eyelids. The first one she ever smiled at me, so free of worry and trepidation that it almost angered me, because how could a person smile so sweetly at a perfect stranger like that? And all the smiles that came after, especially the ones that lit up her face whenever I’ve walked into Bookends unexpectedly, hoping to brighten up her day—hoping to be the recipient of that smile.
She lets go of my nipple and kisses her way down. My pulse picks up speed as I brace myself for what comes next. Her hands wander over my belly while her lips kiss my inner thighs and move in ever closer to my clit.
In my life, it’s a rare and beautiful thing when desire beats fear, and for that alone, I’m already beside myself when her lips touch against my clit. Then I feel the warmth of her tongue there and even then, as an arrow of pleasure shoots through me, there’s still a part of me that finds this hard to believe. But it’s not a self-deprecating thought. It’s one of pure wonder. If a woman like Zoe, so confident and self-possessed and beautiful, is doing these things to my clit with her tongue, I can’t be so bad. I must be doing something right in my life. I must be projecting some sort of positive energy and brightness and I-don’t-know-what-else that sits behind my anxiety, waiting patiently for moments like these. Because Zoe going down on me is not some sort of mistake that the universe made. It’s a logical progression of what’s been happening between us.
Her tongue is slow but relentless. She twirls it around my clit, then down and up again, and it’s as though I can feel it everywhere. I can feel all the warmth of Zoe’s personality in her tongue as she deftly licks me to a point of no return. And I’m surprised again, because I usually need a bit more stimulation than this. But nothing is typical about Zoe. Maybe it never has been.
“Oooh,” I hear myself moan, my voice filling the room, slicing through the semi-darkness around me. “Oh, Zoe.”
It seems to spur her on because her tongue keeps at it, but with a bit more intensity, that she ratchets up and up, until I can’t take it anymore. Un
til I let go, for her, for me, for us, and the heavenly sensations of Zoe’s tongue on my clit demand the kind of climax from me that leaves my entire body trembling and my eyes a little wet.
“Are you okay?” Zoe asks, worry in her voice.
I nod, because I’m fine, but I can’t express how I’m feeling right now in words yet. I want to, though. I want to be able to tell her, so I make the effort, as I pull her close to me.
“Orgasms can make me quite emotional. As though…” I pause and I notice how we breathe together, how close we are in this moment, and Zoe’s closeness seems to hand me the words I’m searching for. “It’s like there are certain emotions that I hold in my body that can only ever be expressed when I come.”
I feel her chin go up and down against my chest. “That makes perfect sense,” she says, then she pushes herself away from me and smiles at me and it’s not a full-wattage kind of Zoe smile, but it dazzles me nonetheless. Then something mischievous comes over her face. “I also forgot to warn you that I’m the queen of licking pussy.”
I burst into a chuckle and we laugh together and it’s exactly what I need right now, for Zoe and I to cement this moment in our memory as something joyful and light, despite the gravity it holds for me. But it can be all of those things at the same time.
“I’m going to put that on a T-shirt for you,” I say, while I hold her in my arms, where she fits so perfectly. “I’ll make you wear it in the summer.”
“I’ll wear it whenever I come to your house with this very purpose,” she says. “So you never forget.”
10
Zoe
“I need to let Hemingway out,” Anna says, because I won’t let her go.
“We need to make the most of today.” I press my leg onto her thighs a bit more. “Because I sure do hope Eve doesn’t make a habit of turning up in Donovan Grove.”
“I’ll bring you up a cup of coffee,” Anna says. It’s not like she’s pushing me off her. “How about that?”
I like the sound of that. We didn’t get much sleep and I need something to kick-start my tired body. I remove my leg and let her go, but as soon as she tosses the duvet off her, I cover her with it again. “I’ve changed my mind. Stay.”
Her body spasms with laughter in my embrace. “I had no idea you were so needy.”
“There’s so much you don’t know about me yet,” I whisper in her ear, then softly bite her earlobe like I did last night.
“I know you’re the queen of many things.” Anna wriggles herself around so she faces me.
I gaze into her eyes. They seem to catch the morning light. She looks so beautiful this morning, a little different even. Different to me, at least, because I could never have hoped she would give herself to me the way she did last night and then again, through most of the night, until I fell asleep, completely drained of all energy, in her arms.
“I love you,” I say, and a warm sensation ripples under my skin, settles in my core, setting some parts of me ablaze again.
“I love you too,” she says, and what floors me is how easily the words flow from her mouth now, as though she has gone past the barrier that kept them inside once and for all. “I also love my dog.” She kisses the tip of my nose.
“Go.” I free her from my embrace and let her go this time. I sit up in bed and watch her put on a robe and exit the room. Before she does, she turns around and blows me a kiss. Then I decide to follow her downstairs because I want to experience getting up with her, shuffling around in her gorgeous kitchen on a Sunday morning. Just being with her, after the night we’ve had. But it’s also true I want to spend every moment I can with her this weekend so that I can spin Eve turning up into a positive experience. Sleepovers won’t be turning into a habit, because I’m not the kind of mother to sneak off and leave her teenage daughter home alone. And I have a feeling Anna won’t be staying over at my place any time soon.
I throw on my clothes and tiptoe down the stairs, marveling at the wealth of framed paintings that line the walls of Anna’s stairwell. I barely noticed them last night, but I can’t not notice them this morning.
Her entire family is represented and I stop at a particularly fetching portrait of Jaden which she must have painted a few years ago because it’s a younger version of him.
“You’re up.” She’s standing at the bottom of the stairs with two steaming mugs.
“Yeah, but I got distracted on my way down.” I return my gaze to the painting of Jaden. “Do you have any recent ones of him?”
Anna nods. “A few.”
“Brooklyn’s birthday is coming up and I think it would make me mother of the year if I gave her a painting of her boyfriend. Can I buy it off you?”
“I only accept payment in kind,” Anna says matter-of-factly.
“Got it.” I walk down the stairs and stop at the bottom step. “What did you have in mind?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” She hands me a mug of coffee and we head into the kitchen. The light streaming through the huge window is beautiful. On the lawn, Hemingway is running around as though he hasn’t smelled any outside air in days.
“He’s such a morning dog,” I say, and lean into Anna as we watch him frolic about. “Please tell me we can spend the day together.”
“I have to go to lunch at my parents,” Anna says.
“You have to?” I want to challenge her a little bit because I want this time with her. We’ll never have the day after our first night together again. “What will happen if you cancel?”
“Nothing will happen, but I’ve had Sunday lunch at my parents’ for as long as I can remember. It’s when I see my family. It’s an elemental part of my Sunday and my week.”
“I get that,” I say, “but… I’d like to spend the day with you.”
“It’s only lunch. It’s just a few hours.” She’s starting to get a bit agitated. Time to take the sting out of the conversation, although that doesn’t mean I’m backing down.
“How about I call Sherry?” I bump my shoulder into hers lightly. “And explain to her why you can’t make it to lunch today.”
“What would you say?” Anna’s at least willing to entertain my joke.
“That my presence in your house has left you indisposed.” I sip from the coffee.
“You can’t say that to my mother.”
“I bet I can.”
“Let’s not put that to the test.” Anna grabs my free hand with hers. “I want to spend the day with you too, Zoe. Why don’t you come with me? Mom will be ecstatic.”
“As much as I like your family, I feel like I’m on a ticking clock here. The only silver lining to Eve turning up out of the blue is that I get to spend time with you without worrying about Brooklyn. That ends when Eve leaves tomorrow.”
“You’re asking me to change my routine for you,” Anna says. “You also asked me to spy for you at Sunday lunch, remember? To find out what Jamie and Janet think about Eve.”
“I don’t care about that one bit right now, Anna.” I give her hand a squeeze. “I just want to spend the day with you. I’ll cook you lunch and dinner and whatever you want.”
“You truly are the queen of many things.” She follows up with a chuckle. “I’ll call Mom. I’ll tell her it’s your fault.”
“I’ll apologize to her in person tomorrow.” A smile breaks on my face.
“Don’t ingratiate yourself with her even more. You’ll be her favorite daughter in no time.” Anna turns to me. “I think my mother might be as crazy about you as I am.”
“Knowledge I will use to my advantage without mercy.” I kiss Anna on the lips.
“Let me call her.” Anna kisses me back and then goes to find her phone.
While she calls her mother, I check my own phone, to see if everything’s okay with Brooklyn. I text her, and get a reply back instantly with a bunch of happy emojis. At least Eve’s visit is fun for Brooklyn.
“Will Sherry survive your absence at her table?” I ask when Anna comes back into the ki
tchen.
“She will, but you and Brooklyn have to come to lunch next Sunday to make up for it.”
“We will do so with great pleasure.”
“I do have to walk Hemingway, though.”
“We’ll walk him together,” I say. “Because he’d better get used to having me around and sharing his owner’s affections.”
Anna opens the sliding door and Hemingway comes bounding in, his paws wet from hopping all over the lawn. While she rubs them dry, I gaze out over her garden, toward the trees at the back, and think that I could very easily picture myself waking up in this house every morning.
11
Anna
“I knew it would be like this,” Zoe whispers.
It’s Tuesday afternoon, and I’ve felt completely and utterly unable to stay away from the store ever since Zoe left my house yesterday. I’m amazed I managed this long, which is surprising in itself because I believed I would need twenty-four hours on my own at the very least to recover from having her in my space for so long. Turns out I just want more of her.
Zoe shakes her head. “I hate seeing Brooklyn so distraught.”
“Maybe you should give her the painting now. To cheer her up,” I offer.
“Maybe, but it’s not a painting of her boyfriend she needs. It’s her other mother in her life.” She expels a deep sigh. “I should have talked about it with Eve, but I had my own distractions.” She gives me a weak smile, nothing like the dazzling display of joy I’m used to seeing from Zoe.
“Is she going back to Shanghai?”
Zoe nods. “Yes. Her contract doesn’t finish until the end of the year. If she comes back to New York then, she can at least see some more of her daughter before she leaves for college.”