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by Cheyenne Blue


  Maybe for a long time to come.

  But right now, the time was for pleasure. For touching and being touched and the soft, hot feelings of lovemaking.

  They moved from the bed only when the morning became too hot, the movement of air from the ceiling fan insufficient to cool them. Neither dressed properly. Freya pulled a loose cheesecloth dress from the rail, and Lily found a sarong that she wrapped around herself. Freya made strong coffee, throwing away the pot Lily had made that had gone cold in the heat of their loving. The balcony was still partly shaded, so they sat on the lounger there, sipping coffee. Loving had worn away Freya’s sharp edges, and the silence that wrapped around them was a comfortable one.

  Dorcas and Mabel appeared from some secret hidey-hole and jumped onto the arm of the couch, purring.

  Lily rubbed the head of her little cat, smiling as Mabel arched against her hand. “These two are getting along well.”

  “They are.”

  Was it too early to suggest removing the lattice dividing their balconies? It would make things easier for the cats, but it implied an intimacy that was a step above the night they had shared.

  “I hope we can do this.” Freya’s quiet words echoed the questions in her own head. “This seems so right at the moment, but I hope we can keep it that way. We live so close, share a building.”

  Lily’s breath huffed over her cooling coffee. “We don’t have to rush headlong into anything. We have our separate spaces.”

  Freya gave a jerky nod. “Yes. I haven’t had to share my day-to-day living for a long time now. It might be a little overwhelming at first. I hope you can understand.”

  “There’s no timetable we have to follow.”

  “This, though.” Freya indicated the balconies with a wave of her hand. “Maybe we could take down the lattice? Make it a shared space?”

  “Did you just crawl into my head and steal my thoughts?” Lily put her coffee down on the table. “This is the perfect place for us to see what we can be together.”

  Freya stared down the street, her gaze following the path of a solitary pedestrian. “I hope we can be many things to each other. In time.” She sat up abruptly. “But right now, we better find some clothes and prepare to negotiate our first meeting with a friend as a couple.”

  “How can you know that?”

  She indicated the pedestrian with a nod. “That’s Carly. I suspect she’s coming to see if you or I fancy breakfast.”

  Lily glanced down at the curve of her breasts revealed by the slipping sarong. “She’ll know something has changed. Does that bother you?”

  “No. I’m not hiding.” Freya stared into her mug for a moment as if scrying the future. “This is something I never expected to have in my life again. And I know it’s the opposite of what I’ve been teaching—that women don’t need to have someone in their lives to be happy. I’ve tried to show that independence is a good thing. But I’m not going to deny what we have.” She touched Lily’s hand. “So, in about two minutes, when Carly arrives, she’s going to be very surprised.”

  “I should shower before breakfast.” Lily set down her cup. “I wish I could walk along the balcony railing like the cats do. It would be so much quicker.”

  The bell rang and Freya got to her feet. “No time. Prepare for the onslaught!”

  Lily stayed where she was, hearing Carly’s chatter as she bounded up the stairs. Life for Carly seemed to be on the up.

  “…and it was really good being in my flat last night. It’s a nice place. I curled up on the couch—the one Remy helped me choose—and got a takeaway pizza. With anchovies, just as I like. Andy would never let me order them; he said they were disgusting things and made my breath stink. I had a glass of red wine—”

  “Just one?” Freya’s teasing tone drifted out to where Lily sat.

  “It was a large one. And I watched a rom-com.” A sigh. “I’ll be okay, Frey. I will. I came to see if you and Lily wanted to come for break— Oh!” She stepped onto the balcony. “You’re here early!” She kissed Lily on the cheek. “I came to see if the two of you want to go for breakfast.”

  “Sure.” Lily looked at Freya. “I’m up for it.”

  “Me too. But you’ll have to wait whilst I shower. Ever heard of the telephone, Carly?”

  “I texted both of you. Last night and this morning. Guess you didn’t look.”

  “Must have been busy,” Freya said with a poker face.

  Lily stood and hitched the sarong up so she was decent. “I need a shower too. Suppose I meet you both here in twenty minutes?”

  “Sure.” Carly cocked her head to one side. “Freya has a sarong just like that. Did you buy it in her shop?”

  How was she supposed to answer that? She snuck a sideways glance at Freya, but her head was bent as she stroked Dorcas. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, and fled before Carly could put two and two together.

  By the time she returned, Freya, too, had showered and dressed. Her denim shorts were faded from many washings and softly clung to her lean hips. The loose cotton top left her arms bare. Lily’s gaze caressed her upper arms, and the slant of collarbones revealed by the top. The freckles she’d kissed so recently that dotted the skin of Freya’s chest were only partly visible. Lily swallowed, remembering the trail of those freckles and the delights they led to. Should she kiss her in greeting? Would Freya want that? She didn’t know. The nuances of their fledging relationship were still to be learnt.

  Freya grabbed the cotton bag she used to carry her purse and keys and slung it over her shoulder.

  My lover. The words still seemed new and fresh. Lily fiddled with the strap of her own bag.

  Then Freya turned to her. “Ready?”

  She nodded, the words deserting her in the softness of Freya’s gaze. “Where’s Carly?”

  “Loo.” There was the sound of the toilet flushing. “Carly will be out in a minute.” Freya stepped closer. Her eyes were huge and luminous. Soft, as if her thoughts were the echo of Lily’s.

  “She will.” The urge to kiss the parted lips in front of her was strong, but mindful of Carly, she contented herself with a squeeze of Freya’s fingers.

  Freya squeezed back, and turned towards Carly. Their linked fingers swung between them.

  “You still want to go to the Green House, Carly?” Freya’s voice had the same crispness as usual. “Now that you work there, would you rather go to Oncey-One’s?”

  “No way. Remy does the best breakfast. And I like to give her the business.”

  “Job security, right?” Lily fought the urge to look down at their joined hands. Freya’s thumb passed in a quick one-two caress.

  “Yeah.” Carly paused and seemed for the first time to see just how close they were standing. “You two seem to be getting on well.” Her gaze fixed on their linked hands.

  “Did you expect us to be at each other’s throats?” Lily asked.

  “No. Not anymore. But this is different. Is this more than just a new neighbourly accord?”

  That squeeze of the fingers again. “You said you’d like to see your friends get together.” There was a tease in Freya’s voice.

  “I did,” Carly agreed. “But you both told me it wasn’t going to happen.” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously “Is this some kind of crazy wind-up? Get me sucked in and planning your wedding, and then you’ll tell me it’s all a joke?”

  “No joke.” Lily reached out with her free hand and touched Carly’s arm. “But it’s new.”

  “You’re the only person who knows.” Freya rubbed Carly’s shoulder.

  “Is it a secret?

  “No.” Conviction shone in Freya’s voice. “Of course not.”

  “That’s good.” Carly gathered the two of them into a tight hug. “Because there’s a whole gang of people g
oing to the Green House for breakfast. Remy of course, us, Alicia, Faye, Miriam, and Janie. Apparently, Janie has a new woman she met on some dating site. The brekky is for her to meet Janie’s friends. I’d hate for you two to have to hide.” Her arms tightened. “I love you guys. You were there for me. I’m really happy for you.” With a loud, wet kiss on their cheeks, Carly released them.

  Lily and Freya exchanged a glance. All these people hooking up might be difficult for Carly to handle. “You’re okay with this?” Lily asked.

  Carly bent to pick up Mabel, who was mewing plaintively at her feet. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m glad my friends are happy.” She narrowed her eyes. “As long as you don’t go all lovey-dovey and exclusive on me and don’t want to spend time with me anymore.”

  “You should know us better than that!” Lily stuck her hands on her hips. “This is day one of a relationship that will take a lot of negotiation. We need you, Carly.”

  “Good.” Carly set Mabel gently back down. “Now that’s settled, let’s go and eat before I faint from starvation.”

  As Carly clumped down the stairs, Lily hung back. Once more, she entwined her fingers with Freya’s. “We can do this. You and me. A steady pace, a step here, a small advance there. Open communication. Our own private spaces. Let’s see how we go.”

  Freya leant in. Her breath was warm on Lily’s skin as she said, “I think we’ll be fine.”

  Epilogue

  The day the landlord gave them permission to add a connecting door between their living spaces, Lily entered Freya’s apartment to find her standing on a trestle, small pots of paint at her feet. Her lover wore brief shorts and a paint-splattered singlet, and her wild hair was subdued by a turban.

  Freya turned as she entered, and stood waiting. Tension shimmered in her frame as she waited for Lily’s reaction.

  “You’re finishing it.” Lily came closer, her gaze locked on the mural taking form in front of her. Freya’s mural wasn’t completely finished, but it was close. The previous unfinished sketch had been erased, and the blocky outline of where the new french door would be showed on the white paint. But around that outline, Freya had continued the rainforest theme.

  Lily’s gaze absorbed the artwork she knew so well, passed over the painted figures of Freya and Sarah hand in hand in the forest. But now, where there had been only pencilled jungle, the rainforest bled into a river scene. The Pioneer River, the one that ran through town. There were the flat, sandy flood plains and the sweep of the river. There was a crocodile on the bank, mouth open in a grin. And walking hand in hand along the sand were two naked women.

  The two of them. Lily’s brown skin and sheen of black hair, and Freya, not the younger Freya portrayed with Sarah, but as she was now, leaner with greying hair. Lily stepped closer to look at the details. Freya had painted them with their bare feet sunk into the sand, and a flight of rainbow lorikeets swooping over their heads. In one corner were Dorcas and Mabel, tumbling in play. And above where their new connecting door would be were the words A Woman’s Pleasure and A Woman’s Spirit. The letters ran close together and were entwined with tropical vegetation connecting the two names.

  “It’s beautiful.” Lily’s words were soft, hushed, and her gaze never left the wall, tracing the fanciful design.

  “Do you like it?” Still gripping her brush, Freya stepped down from the trestle.

  “I love it. I love what it represents. I love you.”

  The paintbrush fell to the drop sheet as Freya wound her arms around Lily’s neck. “I love you too.”

  “Are you ready for this?”

  Lily looked up. “I am. I’m just choosing the perfect pair of pants.” She was on her hands and knees in front of her wardrobe. A pile of bright clothes surrounded her.

  Freya arched an eyebrow. “All this time, I thought you simply grabbed the first pair of yoga pants you laid your hands on.”

  “Why did you think that?”

  “Purple pants paired with an ochre T-shirt. Pink-and-gold leggings with a turquoise-and-yellow top. Green-and-silver pants with a beige T-shirt—”

  “That combination’s okay.”

  “The last one, yes. It was every other colour choice that made me wonder.” Her impish smile softened the words.

  Lily stood, a pair of pink pants patterned with red hearts in her hands. “You’re right. I normally do just grab the first thing I see. But this is different. I want this to go well. And that means picking the perfect clothes.” She held up the pants. “How about these?”

  “Paired with?”

  “I have a silver T-shirt somewhere. I think I’ll blend nicely with you if I wear that.” Her gaze raked Freya from top to toe, taking in the wild hair tied back from her face, the neat grey-and-white top and pants.

  Freya advanced into the room. “I love the pants. But let me choose the top to go with them.”

  “Be my guest.” Lily sat on the bed and watched as Freya riffled through her clothes.

  Freya pulled out a tie-dye T-shirt, swirled with every colour of the rainbow. “This one.”

  “It really doesn’t go with the pants.”

  “So?”

  “It’s garish.”

  “So? Haven’t I seen you wear this shirt with orange leggings?”

  “You have, but I’m not wearing it for this class.” She rose from the bed, took the top from Freya’s hands, and threw it on the bed. “I want this to be perfect. For us, but mainly for you, so that you don’t regret your decision.”

  “I haven’t regretted any decision made in the last few months. This one won’t be any different. And I want you to dress like this because this is how you always dress for yoga. I used to watch you, you know, when you started attending my class. You wore these crazy clothes, but you were so serene, so sure of yourself. You took so much pleasure in the movement.”

  “I still do. In all movement.” Lily raised an eyebrow suggestively.

  Freya didn’t chuckle. “I’m serious, Lily. I don’t want to change you. I want you to be you. And that includes your choice of yoga clothes. Now unless you’re going in your undies, you better get dressed or we’ll be late.” She walked out of the bedroom, leaving Lily to dress.

  Together they went down the stairs and through A Woman’s Spirit to the yoga studio. The buzz of chatter fell silent. Seven women waited expectantly. Lily mentally ticked them off. Carly, of course, in her usual position for any class—right at the front. Remy, Janie, Janie’s girlfriend, Suzie. A woman Lily knew by sight from around Grasstree Flat, and two strangers.

  Freya turned on the background music whilst Lily lowered the blinds and dimmed the lights so the mood of the room was quiet and intimate. Freya joined her at the front of the room.

  “Sex.” Lily smiled at her lover.

  “And yoga.” Freya linked her fingers through Lily’s and together they faced the class. “They go together. Welcome, friends, to the first Yoga for Sexual Wellbeing class.”

  About Cheyenne Blue

  Cheyenne Blue is the author of the “Girl Meets Girl” series, three standalone novels with interconnecting characters. Never-Tied Nora, Not-So-Straight Sue, and Fenced-In Felix are also available from Ylva Publishing. Her short fiction has been included in over ninety erotic anthologies since 2000, including Best Lesbian Erotica; Best Women’s Erotica; All You Can Eat: A Buffet of Lesbian Romance & Erotica; Sweat; Bossy; and Wild Girls, Wild Nights. She is the editor of Forbidden Fruit: stories of unwise lesbian desire, a 2015 finalist for both the Lambda Literary Award and Golden Crown Literary Award, and of First: Sensual Lesbian Stories of New Beginnings.

  Her collected lesbian short fiction is published as Blue Woman Stories, volumes 1-3, with more to come. Under her own name she has written travel books and articles and edited anthologies of local writing in Ireland. She has lived in the U.K., I
reland, the United States, and Switzerland, but now writes, runs, makes bread and cheese, and drinks wine by the beach in Queensland, Australia.

  CONNECT WITH CHEYENNE

  Blog: www.cheyenneblue.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/CheyenneBlueAuthor

  Twitter: @IamCheyenneBlue

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

  www.ylva-publishing.com

  Fenced-In Felix

  (Girl Meets Girl Series – Book 3)

  Cheyenne Blue

  ISBN: 978-3-95533-707-0 (mobi), 978-3-95533-708-7 (epub)

  Length: 87,000 words (308 page)

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