by Isis Brown
Layla waited excitedly by the baggage claim for Isabel to arrive, and she couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh as Isabel came around the corner, pulling her carryon luggage behind her, her hair up in a ponytail and half her face hidden behind the hideous pair of sunglasses from the corner martin Vancouver. Layla held her arms out as Isabel slid into them, giving her a long hug.
“It’s so good to see you,” Layla said.
“You too.”
Isabel pulled back and took off her sunglasses, sliding them into her purse before looping her arm through Layla’s. “Better hide these babies before the Portland hipsters steal them.”
Layla laughed as she took the carry-on luggage from Isabel’s hand and led her towards the parking garage. They talked about the flight and how things were going, and Layla floated a couple ideas on what they could do while Isabel was in town. Once they reached the car, Layla loaded the luggage into the trunk, then walked Isabel around to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for her.
“Wow, I knew in Oregon there were people to pump your gas, but I didn’t know there were hotties to get car doors for you too.”
“This is the VIP service, ma’am. But it’ll cost you.” Layla pulled Isabel in by the waist and gave her a light kiss. “Did I mention I’m glad you’re here?”
Isabel licked her lips slowly, tasting Layla. “Tell me again?”
Layla brought their lips together a second time. “Absolutely.”
***
“Welcome to my humble abode,” Layla said as she swept her arm in a grand gesture towards the condo she owned. Isabel took her shoes off and started walking around the space, taking in the framed photos and furniture, loving the warmth of the décor that made her instantly feel at home.
Layla gave Isabel the full tour of the two-bedroom two-bathroom condo, and even cheekily said she didn’t want to make assumptions about where Isabel wanted to sleep, and she was welcome to the guest room if that made her more comfortable.
Isabel took that opportunity to push Layla up against the nearest wall and kiss her so fiercely that any doubt Layla might have had about Isabel’s comfort level was a distant memory.
Once Isabel unpacked some of her things, she returned to the living room where she spotted Layla, who had poured them each a glass of wine and was seated out on the patio waiting. It was a warm summer night with a lovely breeze that flowed through Layla’s hair, stirring some feelings in Isabel she didn’t yet want to name. Isabel took an extra few seconds to enjoy the view before joining her, taking the glass of wine Layla held out for her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips before sitting down.
“This is nice.”
“Mmm,” Layla answered, holding her gaze, taking a slow sip of wine.
Layla tapped her thigh, indicating for Isabel to put her feet there so she could get more comfortable, as she started massaging her feet with one hand, holding her glass of wine in the other.
“So tell me all about this movie shoot in Toronto.”
Isabel smiled, thinking about her last couple of weeks. “It went well. I absolutely loved the people on the set. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to work with them again in a sequel. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed so much on set in my life.”
“That sounds wonderful. Do you think that will happen?”
“It might. It’s so hard to know how things will go until after the film festival circuit. At least we will get the film ready by the deadline for the Austin film festival.”
“Wow, that’s amazing Isabel. I can’t wait to see it.” Layla smiled at Isabel, her expression earnest and supportive.
Isabel shifted a little in her seat, torn between feeling proud of her budding career and a little embarrassed by it.
“Thanks. It’s just a small film, and it’s not a big deal.”
Layla furrowed her brow. “It is a big deal. It’s great to see your talent be recognized. Why does that make you uncomfortable?”
“I don’t know. It is just a weird transition. On the one hand, this is my dream, and I love that it’s finally coming together in a way where I get to make a living doing what I love and helping tell great stories and working with amazing people. On the other, it is weird walking down the street and having someone just come up to me like we know each other and I can’t figure out if I should know them from University or if they recognize me from my work. Honestly, it makes me feel anxious half the time.”
Layla started massaging Isabel’s calf, looking deep in thought.
“I obviously can’t relate to what it’s like, being you or having your experience. As someone who works with a lot of high profile people, the only thing I can say is that yes, things do change. I’ve seen how it can complicate relationships as more people learn about you, without really knowing you. I hope that you can celebrate your rising success, without losing who you are.”
“And who is that exactly?” Isabel asked, uncertainty in her voice.
“The best God damn television ombudsman Canada has ever produced,” Layla said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
Isabel laughed, letting out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. They continued their easy conversation until Isabel’s phone rang with an incoming Face Time call. “Ooh, shit. I forgot to call her. I should get this,” she said to Layla.
“Hey, Mom!”
“There’s my lovely daughter, who is alive and not in a ditch somewhere as I assumed she would be since she promised to call when she landed in Portland but didn’t.”
Isabel cringed and looked guiltily into the camera on her phone. “Sorry, Mom. I got distracted.”
“I bet you did. Do I ever get to lay eyes on the infamous Layla or did you make her up the way those American high school kids would make up having Canadian girlfriends to explain why they didn’t have a prom date?”
Layla couldn’t help but laugh at that, and Isabel shot her a look that said, traitor.
“Well?” Isabel’s mother asked, prompting Isabel to look at Layla questioningly.
Layla nodded in response and held her hand out for the phone. Looking into the front-facing camera, she looked at Isabel’s mom, who was squinting into the screen to get a good look at Layla.
“Mrs. Martin, hi. How are you?”
“Please, call me Diane. It’s nice to finally talk to you, Layla. Are you the reason my daughter has been in such a good mood lately?”
Isabel groaned in the background while hiding her face in her hands.
Layla smiled. “I sure hope so, but I probably can’t take all the credit. It might have something to do with her burgeoning career and the good looks I can see she got from you.”
“Thank you, dear, I can see you’re a real charmer. What are you ladies up to? I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all, we are just relaxing on the patio with a glass of wine. It was great timing.”
“Good. Well, you’ll have to pop by next time you’re in Vancouver, and don’t keep us waiting too long okay? I’ll let you two get back to your evening.”
“I look forward to it, Diane. Sorry we worried you, I’ll make sure we call from the airport next time. Have a good night.” She handed the phone back to Isabel, and then picked up their empty wine glasses and took them back into the kitchen, giving Isabel and her mom some privacy to finish their phone call.
“Well, she’s quite the looker Isabel, and she seems very nice.”
“She really is, Mom.”
“Good, well I’ll leave you ladies to it. Call me later?”
“Will do, please say hi to everyone for me, Ramsey included. See you in a couple of days.”
Once Isabel hung up with her Mom, she followed Layla into the Condo and met her in the kitchen as she was drying the wine glasses.
“Hey,” Isabel said, breaking Layla out of her thoughts.
“Hey. Your mom is pretty damn cute.”
“She thinks the same of you.”
Isabel was taking slow, purposeful steps towards L
ayla, who was now leaning against the sink in the kitchen, with desire pooling in her eyes the closer she got. Isabel circled her arms around Layla’s waist and kissed her slowly, teasing her lips with the tip of her tongue, pulling back each time Layla tried to deepen the kiss.
“I’ve missed the feel of you these last couple of weeks,” Isabel whispered against her lips, shivering as Layla feathered her fingertips up Isabel’s arms before threading them through her hair.
Layla claimed Isabel’s mouth then, kissing her deeply as she lowered her hands to Isabel’s waist, and began walking her back towards the bedroom. Their pace was slow and tender, each taking the time to get reacquainted with each other’s bodies. Isabel traced all the parts of Layla with her fingertips that she couldn’t stop thinking about, the curve of Layla’s hips, the swell of her breasts, the line of her jaw. Once they were both spent, they curled up together in bed, talking until they fell asleep, tangled in each other’s arms.
***
The next day, they lounged in pajamas while Isabel looked through the script for the next movie she would be filming, as Layla worked on her laptop.
“What do you feel like doing tonight?” Layla asked, finally closing her laptop and turning on the couch to face Isabel.
Isabel didn’t hear a word Layla said, as she was engrossed in the script and mouthing the words silently.
Scooting closer to Isabel, Layla brushed Isabel’s hair behind her ear, kissing and nibbling on her ear lobe.
“Let’s try this again,” she said, as she used the tip of her tongue to trace the tip of Isabel’s ear. “What would you like to do tonight?”
Isabel’s sharp intake of breath let Layla know she had finally gained her attention.
“You know, I didn’t play dirty when you were working,” she playfully chastised Layla.
“Maybe I wish you would have,” Layla responded, still nibbling on Isabel’s ear.
Isabel turned and pressed her fingertip to Layla’s lips.
“I need to finish a read-through of this before we do anything. So the more you distract me, the longer it will take.”
Layla halted her assault. “Fine. Can I help?” she asked, nestling in beside Isabel and looking at the script on her lap.
Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Isabel didn’t even get the chance to answer before Layla started reading the script in a terrible British accent.
“What do you mean you don’t know what happened to the report,” Layla exclaimed, reading a line for a character named Charles.
Isabel sighed in mock annoyance.
“Eh hmmm, your line,” Layla mumbled playfully, “and SHE’S supposedly the talented actress, doesn’t even know when it’s her line.”
Rolling her eyes and picking up the next line, Isabel kept the scene going. “I filed it electronically by the deadline. I even have the confirmation number, but all of a sudden, they’re saying they don’t have it.”
“Well, they bloody don’t have it do they?” Layla gestured wildly.
Isabel burst out laughing and tossed the script on the coffee table. “Okay, hang on a second. No one is British in this movie. Furthermore, the word bloody isn’t even in the script!”
“It’s called improvisation Isabel, and quite frankly from the little I’ve read of the script, it really needs it.”
Isabel pounced on Layla, picking up one of the accent pillows on the couch and playfully hitting her with it.
“You’re insufferable.”
“I am indeed,” Layla responded before putting on her awful British accent again and yelling loudly, “Now for the last time woman, what would you like to do this evening?”
Chapter Ten
Later that day they were in the back of a cab to meet Marco for a night out on the town.
Isabel couldn’t quite pin down why she felt a little nervous to see Marco again. She hoped he would be happy to see her and not wonder if she was being clingy coming to see Layla down in Portland so soon. As far as she knew, he and Elliott had not seen each other since they parted ways in Vancouver.
Any insecurity Isabel felt before she saw Marco was gone in seconds as he enthusiastically wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air as they hugged. “Hello gorgeous,” he said as he set her down before going to give Layla a quick peck on the cheek.
“Wow, chopped liver I am now that Isabel is in town, huh? I see how it is,” Layla teased as she shoved him playfully.
Marco led the way into the Thai restaurant they chose for dinner, and after a wonderful catch-up session between the three of them, they headed to the bar across the street for what Marco gleefully announced was a dueling piano bar. Since Marco knew one of the performers, they were able to get seats near the front, and since the show wasn’t going to start for an hour, Marco had a bottle of Champagne sent over.
They drank, laughed, and shared stories between the three of them. Marco loved being able to tell Isabel embarrassing stories about Layla to make up for that time she told Elliott about what he called the sock fiasco. Layla laughed good-naturedly, and Isabel loved the close bond between them that reminded her of her friendship with Penny and Toni.
Before they knew it, the bar had filled up, and the performers were starting their warm-ups. While Isabel had heard of dueling piano shows, she was embarrassed to admit she had never been to one, much to the delicate sensibilities of Marco, who was very upset by the revelation.
Layla feigned outrage as well before leaning in to whisper in Isabel’s ear that if it weren’t for Marco, she would have never been to one either.
Once the show started, the lights dimmed, and the bar got extremely loud, talking was no longer feasible among them. Isabel and Layla relied on physical cues instead, a squeeze of the hand when one or the other found something hilarious, lingering looks between songs. As the night went on and they each had a few glasses of champagne, Layla and Marco got more engaged in the music and were singing alongside the bar patrons and the performers, two peas in a pod.
Watching Layla and Marco in their element pleased Isabel to no end, but she wished she could engage with them in the same way. Isabel always wished she was more extroverted and comfortable in social situations, as she tended to be when she was with her closest friends in a private setting.
“Doing okay?” Layla leaned in asking Isabel, breaking her out of her thoughts.
Isabel nodded, then pressed her lips against Layla’s, needing a quick sense of connection that Layla seemed more than happy to give her.
Just past midnight, Marco tried in vain to keep them out to go to another club to dance the remainder of the night away, but Isabel and Layla had other ideas.
Stumbling into the house still buzzed from the Champagne, they started ripping each other’s clothes off, their need more urgent than the night before.
“Show me the drawer,” Isabel demanded, as she unclasped Layla’s bra and threw it across the room.
“How do you know there’s a drawer?” Layla said playfully.
“The way you keep topping me, I know there’s a drawer.”
Layla released herself from Isabel’s grip and walked to the closet, bringing out a small box with assorted sex toys inside. “Please miss, take a look at my wares.”
Isabel shuffled through the toys in the box, picking the strap on harness, attached medium-sized dildo and bottle of lubricant. Handing the harness to Layla, she smacked her on the ass and continued towards the bed, stripping off the rest of her clothes and climbing in.
Layla stripped off her remaining clothes and slid her legs into the harness, adjusting the straps to ensure the right fit before climbing into bed and on top of Isabel. They kissed and touched and teased each other until the pressure mounting between them elicited a strained plea from Isabel. “Please, Layla. Fuck me.”
Sitting up slowly, Layla poured lube on the dildo and eyed Isabel hungrily as she set the bottle on the nightstand. She leaned over Isabel and kissed her before putting her hand on her hip, positioning
herself between her legs.
“Ready?” Layla asked.
“Yes,” Isabel responded, pushing her hips up towards Layla, granting access.
Layla slid into Isabel slowly. Isabel’s eyes closed as a low moan escaped her lips. Layla took her time building up the pace and depth, learning Isabel’s rhythm. Isabel could feel the familiar tension starting low in her stomach and making its way out. Isabel pulled Layla down for a deep kiss, as her hands settled on Layla’s waist, pulling her in harder. Layla obliged and started moving her hips faster, pushing into her deeper. She could feel Layla’s strained breath, her muscles tight as she moved, loving the feel of her weight pressing down on top of her as Layla’s lips moved along her skin. Isabel, no longer capable of conscious thought was desperate now, her heels pressing into the bed as she met Layla’s thrusts, nails digging into Layla’s back. “Layla, please,” Isabel managed to beg, needing Layla to release her from pleasure so exquisite despite the longing so great. Layla lowered her head to Isabel’s neck, running her teeth along tender skin. Reaching between them, at last, she massaged Isabel’s clit, sending her screaming over the edge as she kept moving against her, slowing down her thrusts until Isabel loosened her grip on Layla, her legs falling limply onto the bed.
Layla slowly removed herself from Isabel, then slipped the straps off, dropping the apparatus on the ground next to the bed.
“I don’t think I’m going to be able to move for the next several hours,” Isabel said through a satisfied smile. Body tingling all over, she basked in the afterglow.
“Works for me,” Layla said, as she curled up next to Isabel, running her fingertips along her skin that was covered with a light sheen of sweat.
“No no, I may not be able to move, but you still can. Get up here.”
Layla straddled Isabel’s waist, running her fingertips along Isabel’s chest.
“Close, but not what I had in mind. Up here,” Isabel said, motioning for Layla to crawl up her body farther.
Raising her eyebrow, Layla crawled up slowly, straddling Isabel’s face with her hands on the headboard.
“Is this what you had in mind?”