by Elia Winters
“Did you see a hair dryer in any of those cabinets?” Megan asked, running her fingers through those wet locks.
Scarlett shook her head. “I didn’t look. I don’t usually blow dry mine.” Her curls were finally starting to dry in the heat from the woodstove.
Megan took her brush and a pillow and sat in front of the woodstove to brush her hair. “I feel like a Jane Austen character, brushing my hair by the fire.” Her smile beamed up at Scarlett, who was very glad she was sitting several feet away on the couch so she didn’t lean in and kiss that smile. “Although I think they probably brushed each other’s hair.”
“I’ll brush your hair,” Scarlett offered before she could stop herself. Shit, what a terrible idea. Worse still was when Megan held out her brush, and so Scarlett had to go sit behind her in front of the fire, had to move close enough that her knees brushed Megan’s hips. Megan’s hair was perfectly straight, unlike her own curly, unruly tresses, and it glided through the brush effortlessly. “My hair would never submit to being brushed like this. I’d have a poof like a poodle at the end of it.”
“It feels nice,” Megan said softly. In the reflection on the back windows, Scarlett could see her eyes were closed. She tried to focus on the rhythm of the brushing, the methodical, rhythmic movement, and not on the way Megan’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned into the touch like a cat. The woodstove cast overwhelming heat on her right side as she worked, mirroring the heat running through her body. She was going to combust. She wanted to drag Megan back by a handful of that hair, stretch her out on the floor, kiss her like she couldn’t get enough. Instead, she brushed her silky brown hair and tried to think of anything else.
Megan pulled away before her hair was all the way dry, scooting an inch farther from Scarlett. “I think I’m going to fall asleep on the floor if you keep doing that.” She took the brush, and her face was pink, probably from the heat of the fire. “There’s only one bed. I can sleep here on the couch if you want.”
“It’s a lumpy couch. I don’t think you’d be comfortable.” Scarlett swallowed. “I can share if you can share.”
Megan averted her eyes. She was still that same rosy color of pink, all over her face and down the curve of her neck. “Sure. That’s fine.”
The orange candle still burned on the table, a pool of melted wax gathered on its surface. Megan walked over to inspect it, nodded once, and then blew it out.
It was not a very big bed. Scarlett had estimated it to be small, but she hadn’t appreciated how small until Megan climbed in on the other side and pressed right up against her. Megan’s laugh sounded breathless. “Not a lot of room in here.”
“Right.” Scarlett was normally a side sleeper anyway, so she rolled away from Megan and tried to take up as little of the available space as she could. Every time Megan moved, she brushed against Scarlett’s back, and Scarlett’s heart sped up for a moment before settling down. They lay there, back to back, frozen in stillness, until Megan sighed loudly.
“This is ridiculous.”
Scarlett opened her eyes. “What’s ridiculous?”
“Trying not to touch you. The bed’s barely big enough for both of us.”
More shifting behind Scarlett, and then Megan curled up all along her back, slotting into place like spoons in a drawer. Scarlett’s breath caught. Megan’s arm snaked over her side, then curled up toward her chest, nestling right beneath the swell of her breast.
Scarlett could think of this as just a practical move, just making good use of the space, if it weren’t for Megan’s breathing. Like a clear tell in a poker game, Megan’s breath was coming rapidly, brushing Scarlett’s neck in shallow puffs, and her fingers twitched below the curve of Scarlett’s breast.
Yup. Scarlett was going to do something stupid.
“It’s okay,” Scarlett breathed, barely a whisper into the silence.
Megan’s hand slid up to cup her breast.
The touch ignited the rest of Scarlett’s resolve and burned it away in a moment. One light brush of Megan’s palm over the peak of Scarlett’s nipple, even through her shirt, and Scarlett’s hips twitched. “This is a terrible idea,” Megan said, echoing all the thoughts Scarlett had carefully cultivated throughout the evening, a list that was even now going up in smoke.
“Do you want to stop?” Scarlett asked.
“No.”
Thank God.
Scarlett rolled over into Megan’s arms and pinned her down to the bed, covering her mouth and kissing her hard. Megan always seemed so frail and delicate, but she wasn’t, and she arched up to kiss Scarlett back with the same ferocity. They both wanted this. They both wanted this, and they should stop and talk about what it meant, but Scarlett had no intention of doing what she should do. She wanted to kiss, and touch, and lose herself in this moment, and explore every inch of Megan’s body.
Megan pulled on Scarlett’s top, lifting the hem, and the next moments passed in a flurry of undressing. Scarlett nipped the ridge of Megan’s collarbone, making her arch up, and then held her hips down with her free arm while she did it again. Megan made a desperate noise, wriggling beneath the touch, like even just this much was enough to drive her mad.
“Tell me what you want.” Scarlett kissed lower, down to the valley between Megan’s breasts.
Megan moaned, sliding fingers into Scarlett’s wavy hair. “I want to fuck you.”
Scarlett hadn’t expected that at all, and she froze, her lips barely brushing Megan’s tender skin. “What?”
Megan tugged Scarlett’s hair, gently, just enough to get her to lift her head. In the dim light, her eyes were sparkling, pupils wide with desire. “I want to fuck you. Please.”
Not a lot of things made Scarlett blush in bed, but the heat traveled up her spine and scalp and her whole body jumped a few degrees. “Okay.”
Megan slid out of bed and rummaged around in her bag while Scarlett propped herself up on her elbows to watch as Megan got her harness and the new dildo she’d purchased. She also had a bottle of lube that Scarlett did not remember seeing her buy. Maybe she brought it with her.
Scarlett’s blush was not going away anytime soon.
“Have you done this before?” She’d seen Megan buy the strap-on, sure, but she somehow hadn’t thought Megan had had experience in this arena. Between this and her extensive knowledge of sex toys, Megan was turning out to be more of a surprise than Scarlett had imagined.
Megan nodded. “A couple of times.” Now that Scarlett’s eyes were adjusted to the light, she could see how pink Megan’s cheeks were. She was blushing, too, and it was an enticing sight alongside the dark straps of the harness against her peach skin and the thick, curved jut of her silicone cock. “What about you?”
Scarlett shook her head. “Nope. With girls, I’ve always been more of the...you know.” She waved a hand. “The equipment I’m born with.”
“You don’t mind this?” Megan rested her hand gently on the cock, fingers lightly curling around it like it was part of her body.
Mind? Scarlett had to laugh, because she was already filing these images away, planning to replay them endlessly in the future. “I definitely don’t mind.”
The warm weight of Megan’s body pushed Scarlett down into the mattress. The dick pressed between them, and Scarlett pulled Megan in for a kiss, lifted her hips automatically, wanting more, wanting this, wanting to go wherever Megan was about to take her. She rocked up, her clit pressing against the underside of the toy, wringing a gasp from her lips.
Megan broke the kiss, breathing heavily, her smile a flash of white in the darkness. “Eager?”
Scarlett nodded, too turned on to be self-conscious. “How do I—What do I do?”
Megan sat back, kneeling between Scarlett’s spread legs, her slender shoulders rising and falling with each breath. Scarlett’s eyes closed reflexively as Megan’s thin, delicate fingers sli
d down over her clit and lit off fireworks throughout her body. “Oh,” Megan breathed, barely loud enough to hear, and Scarlett forced her eyes open because she had to watch as Megan pressed those perfect fingers into Scarlett’s pussy. Scarlett moaned, the sound slipping out of her at that first beautiful sensation. Megan’s expression was so very focused as she began to move her hand, pressing perfectly like she knew all of Scarlett’s sensitive spots by instinct.
“Please,” Scarlett gasped, because she didn’t want to be teased, didn’t want to be warmed up. “Come on.”
Megan smiled again and reached for the lube.
Scarlett gripped the bedsheets at that first moment of thick blunt pressure, almost too much, and then her body opened up around the fucking amazing length of Megan’s cock. She’d had a lot of sex, with all genders, and she couldn’t ever remember this feeling, that sense of losing control, of being taken over by pleasure faster than she could catch her breath. Megan’s movements began slow, gentle thrusts in and out as she found her rhythm. Then she bent one of Scarlett’s legs back at the knee, and oh, fuck, pressed even deeper, the motion wringing a cry out of Scarlett.
Immediately, Megan froze. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“Fuck, no, don’t stop.” Scarlett scrabbled for Megan’s hips, reaching down, trying to pull her in deeper. “Fuck, fuck, please don’t stop.”
Megan didn’t stop.
Scarlett slid a hand between them to find her clit. This was exactly what she needed. She could lose herself in this, could forget the reasons this was a terrible idea, could ignore the way everything in her begged for this to go on forever. When she came, she came with her lips pressed together to keep from crying out Megan’s name.
And then, she flipped Megan over and worked her way down her body with kisses, unsnapping the harness to give her access to the places she wanted most to touch. Megan arched up and cried out when Scarlett’s mouth found her clit, writhing on the bed so Scarlett had to hold her in place. Megan tasted like the ocean, salty and perfect, her whole body squirming and writhing even while she begged Scarlett “please, please, please” in a high-pitched, desperate, beautiful voice. Scarlett focused all her attention on that tiny, tender bud until Megan began to keen and gripped Scarlett’s hair in her fist. Megan came with a scream, curling in on herself, pulling Scarlett’s hair so hard it brought tears to her eyes, and then collapsed like all the strength had gone out of her at once.
They caught their breath side by side on the bed, both a complete mess. Scarlett was winded and satisfied and exhausted. Megan moved first, groaning with effort, and tossed the harness off onto the floor. “I’ll clean that tomorrow,” she mumbled, and tugged her nightshirt over her head.
Scarlett smiled, but sleep was calling to her, and so without even getting dressed, without letting regrets settle in, she pulled the covers up and let herself drift away.
* * *
Maybe all Megan had really needed was to get off again. She felt way better the next morning, none of the pent-up frustration and irritation from the drive yesterday, and she whistled to herself as she built up the fire in the woodstove. The cabin was stocked with oatmeal and coffee, so she prepared both while waiting for Scarlett to wake up.
She could have stayed in bed a little longer. She’d woken up with Scarlett wrapped around her, soft skin and curves, and immediately resisted the dangerous impulse to go back to sleep. Last night had probably been a bad idea, but that at least was just sex. Cuddling felt like an entirely new echelon that she wasn’t prepared to deal with. It was easier to climb out of the warm bed into the frigid morning air than confront that desire for closeness. She straightened up from the night before and cleaned the sex toys before getting coffee going.
Oatmeal was just finishing when Scarlett came downstairs, a bit bleary and mussed, dressed in the pajamas she’d thrown aside last night. “Is that coffee?” She walked over to the kitchenette.
“Coffee and oatmeal. Help yourself. I think I made them okay.”
Megan was already settled on the sofa with a blanket and her own breakfast when Scarlett joined her, taking the armchair instead of sitting beside her on the sofa. Together, they watched the snow continuing to fall outside the window in the gray light.
“It’s coming down lighter than yesterday, right?” Megan was sure the flakes were tinier than the fat heavy ones that had splattered their windshield on the drive.
“Yeah, but that just means it’ll last longer.”
“There’s already a foot out there.” Megan had never seen so much snow. Her excitement warred with the practical realities of having to travel in a few days to make the wedding. She couldn’t imagine digging out the car, but she also wanted to go play in it.
Scarlett’s smile indicated Megan wasn’t hiding her feelings as well as she thought. “Want to go skiing?”
“What?” Megan frowned. “No. That sounds terrifying and dangerous. I don’t want to end up with a broken leg for the wedding.”
“It’s not really dangerous when you’re learning,” Scarlett said, but she didn’t sound all that convinced, either. “I only went once. I fell down a lot.”
Megan shook her head. “I don’t want to spend my whole day falling in the snow. Plus I don’t have the right clothes for it.”
“Oh, that reminds me. There’s laundry at the front building, if you want to wash your stuff today. I’ve got quarters.”
That was a good idea. Megan had washed some underwear in the sinks of a few motel rooms, but it would be nice to actually do some laundry. She agreed, and then they continued to sit there, finishing breakfast and letting the silence settle between them.
Scarlett didn’t let the silence settle for very long. “So about last night.”
Here it came. Megan braced herself for Scarlett to talk about what a terrible idea it had been, or try to make it mean something big and significant for their friendship. Megan didn’t want to deal with any of that; last night could be a fun time with no repercussions, if they were both smart about this. “What about last night?”
“Are you okay with all of that? Is everything all right?” Scarlett bit her lip. She looked legitimately concerned, like something terrible had happened and she didn’t want to break the bad news.
Megan nodded. “I’m fine. Why? Didn’t you have fun?”
Scarlett relaxed a bit. “Yeah. It was great. But I thought we should talk about it.”
“What’s there to talk about?” They had wanted sex, they’d had sex. Looking into Scarlett’s eyes, though, Megan’s stomach clenched. Best not stare too deeply, not so soon after sex; those warm, happy feelings of closeness were far too much like intimacy for her to want to deal with. She swallowed them down.
Scarlett, who was studying her face intently, eventually shrugged one shoulder and looked away. “I don’t know if this changes anything between us.”
“It doesn’t have to.” This was what Megan had been telling herself in the shower, and in bed. It was just sex. It didn’t have to change anything. Just like that first night, getting off in their separate beds, pretending the other person wasn’t there...or, in Megan’s case, fantasizing wildly about Scarlett’s hands and mouth on her body. But then there was that night in New York...
Scarlett was still looking out the windows. “I know. I didn’t know how you felt.”
“I had fun.” There, that was a huge oversimplification, but Megan could stick to “fun” in her definition of last night. Not the whole truth that it was mind-blowing, the best sex she’d ever had, the fulfillment of endless fantasies, but just “fun.” And she should be cured of those desires now, the itch scratched, rather than the way she was currently feeling: desperately wanting more.
“I had fun, too.” Scarlett nodded once, curtly. “Do you want to go play in the snow?”
It was a blatant subject change, and Megan didn’t mind at all. “Defi
nitely.”
Playing in the snow was everything Megan had hoped for, way better than playing in that dusting back in North Carolina. They made a misshapen snowman, threw snowballs at each other, made snow angels, and eventually just flopped in the piles of snow and looked up at the sky. It was really freaking cold, and Megan’s new layers were not as waterproof as she’d have liked, but she lasted over an hour before the wet snow and cold air sent her back inside with chattering teeth.
“I’m freezing.” Megan tried to thaw her numb hands in front of the woodstove, which was warm but not nearly as warm as she wanted to be. “Dibs on the shower.”
Scarlett made a face. “I was literally just about to go shower.”
“We could share,” Megan offered. She wasn’t serious, not really, but Scarlett’s eyebrows shot up immediately in surprise before her expression turned guarded.
“I, um...” Scarlett began, and turned her head aside as she rubbed the back of her neck.
“I was just kidding,” Megan added quickly, just to save the moment. “You can go first.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s fine. You go first.” Scarlett was pink, the way she’d been pink last night, the way Megan was starting to realize she liked seeing her. Flustering Scarlett had always been so difficult, and now, it seemed her blush was only a moment away. In bed, Scarlett let her guard down and let Megan see her vulnerable and open and needy, and last night, Megan had done the same.
Last night should be no big deal, a fun encounter like playing outside in the snow, destined to be another pleasant memory and nothing more. But beneath the hot water of the shower, Megan kept replaying the memories. Scarlett writhing beneath her, lifting her hips, digging her nails into Megan’s back. The soft, wet press of Scarlett’s lips and tongue on Megan’s clit, getting her off effortlessly, like she knew Megan’s body as well as Megan did. She shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature of the water.
She wanted to do it again.
For the rest of the day, she struggled to put the desire aside in favor of mundane, simple tasks. First, it was laundry, carrying backpacks of dirty clothes and using the coin-op washers and dryers. Megan took the opportunity to clean out the car while she could still get into it, even with the snow piling up on the roof and around the wheels, clearing trash and bringing in the rest of the snacks to cobble together lunch. She and Megan did a jigsaw puzzle together on the coffee table, a 500-piece woodland scene that miraculously still had all its pieces, and even played a few hands of rummy with the deck of playing cards. The television only got a few stations, so they checked the local news and weather (yup, still snowing). Megan also spent some time adding her latest photos to the scrapbook. Later, they walked to the ski lodge for dinner, then back again afterward while the snow continued to pile up outside.