by Harper Bliss
Quinn reached for Maya’s hand that was buried in her hair. She kissed her palm, looked into Maya’s eyes, then pinned Maya’s hand above her head. When Maya moved her hand, reaching for Quinn again, Quinn curled her fingers around Maya’s wrist and placed it above her head again. She narrowed her eyes as she locked her gaze on Maya. Oh, so it was like that.
At least Maya still had her other hand to feel Quinn with, to cup her delicious breasts with. But Quinn swiftly reached for Maya’s free hand and pinned that above her head as well. What would she do next? Tie her up?
“Keep them there,” Quinn whispered. As if she didn’t trust Maya to follow this simple instruction, she curled her fingers tighter around Maya’s wrists. Maya looked above her head and saw a couple of letters of the word Radical from Quinn’s tattoo. She’d become so familiar with Quinn’s tattoos that her brain automatically added Acceptance. She might as well do that—radically accept anything that was happening and anything she was feeling. Not only because Quinn told her to, which was surprisingly arousing in itself, but also because the position Quinn now held her in left her tantalizingly vulnerable and exposed to Quinn’s whims.
Quinn unbuttoned Maya’s blouse with one hand, exposing her upper body. She kissed the swell of Maya’s breast. By the time she had to let go of Maya’s hands to hike up her skirt, Maya was more than willing to keep her hands above her head—she’d tie them to the bedpost herself if she could. She relished Quinn’s easy power over her. Just as she relished all the new—or forgotten—sensations being with Quinn had brought her.
Quinn, who had never relented in her pursuit of Maya. Who had only needed one photo shoot with Maya to feel that spark again, to fan the flames they’d been forced to extinguish between them ten years ago. Maya had felt it too, but just like back then, she had to be the spark killer. Quinn was too reckless for that kind of responsibility.
And now, as it turned out, so was Maya. Because being with Quinn was reckless and mind-blowing and a touch crazy, but it was also the only way it could be for Maya now. Just like, right now, the only thing for Maya to do was lie on Quinn’s bed with her hands above her head, her skirt wrinkling underneath her because Quinn had pushed it all the way up, with her panties nowhere to be seen.
It was all exactly as it should be, Maya thought, as Quinn’s fully lubricated fingers slid between her legs. With her other hand, Quinn imprisoned Maya’s wrists again, while she gazed into her eyes. More newness. More of Quinn’s beautiful thought processes at work—maybe being under time pressure enhanced her creativity. Maya should have been in a taxi half an hour ago. She was going to be ridiculously late for her own class. In all respects, it was an utter disgrace, but she didn’t care. How could she when Quinn’s fingers slid inside her and made her feel like this? When Quinn looked at her like that, as if there was only one woman left in the entire universe that was important to her, and that woman was Maya.
Chapter 44
One Year Later
“Win,” Ethan uttered while he pulled himself up with the help of Quinn’s leg.
“That child is as crazy about you as his grandmother is,” Angus said.
“Come here, you.” Quinn picked Ethan up and put him in her lap, knowing he would only stay a few minutes. A sixteen-month-old toddler, she had learned, didn’t much care for staying in one spot for a long period of time. He always had places to be and new, exciting things to discover.
Ethan briefly put his head against her shoulder and everyone in Maya’s living room cooed as though Ethan had just won the Nobel Prize for being a baby. Most people present here today would actually believe he deserved a prize, simply for being alive—Maya most of all.
“Feel free to hand him over if he’s bothering you,” Tommy said.
“How could this cute little man ever bother me.” Quinn put her arms around Maya’s grandson and gave him a cuddle. She’d done her fair share of babysitting over the past year and she had grown very fond of the child. In that respect, the year had not gone as planned at all. Not that Quinn ever had a grand scheme mapped out for her life, apart from trying not to get too heartbroken again and sell a picture once in a while, but for someone without a natural affinity to children, she had made a huge exception for Ethan. The kid had gotten under her skin and nowadays, when she didn’t see him for a week, she got antsy. Sometimes, when Maya was teaching and Quinn was in Manhattan, she’d drop by Tommy and Beth’s by herself just to see him.
“Tell me about it,” Griff said. “He basically stole you from me.” She leaned against Roxanne’s shoulder. After her ‘year of no’ ended, Griff had wasted no time asking out the cute barista from the coffee shop on the corner. Quinn had never been able to establish whether Griff had actually waited until the clock had struck midnight on the last day of the year—she strongly suspected she might not have, but what did it even matter?
Roxanne patted Griff’s head. “It’s okay, baby. You have me now.”
“I might move to Manhattan as well,” Griff said. “Not because I can’t live without my former roommate, but because the commute is killing me.” When she’d needed a new assistant producer a few months ago, Beth had offered Griff the job. She had not merely taken it, but embraced it as though her life depended on it. “Have you ever tried writing a book on the L-train? Let me assure you, it doesn’t work.”
As predicted, Ethan wiggled his way out of Quinn’s lap and waddled to the corner of the carpet where a bunch of his toys lay.
Quinn watched how her mother followed the child with her gaze. Brooke and Maya had taken Ethan to the Bronx Zoo a few weeks ago and no one had gotten hurt. Upon their return, Quinn had declared it a miracle, because they could joke about these things now.
“I’ll get the grill going,” Quinn’s dad spoke the words Quinn had heard him say so often.
“I’ll give you a hand.” Tommy rose.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Maya said. “What is this? Men grilling outside on the deck while the women do the dishes inside?” She shook her head. “That’s not how things are done these days.”
Quinn’s father looked confused. “You don’t want me in charge of the grill?”
Maya huffed out some air and sipped from her champagne. “Oh, go on. Do what you like, just don’t be too… manly about it.”
Angus burst into laughter. “I would help, but this suit is simply too extraordinary.”
“We’re all just a bunch of clichés,” Griff said. “Quinn’s moving in with her girlfriend. Mine’s moving in with me already after only a few months of dating. How lesbian can you get?”
Quinn watched her mother shuffle around in her chair.
“Griff’s been a real asset to our team,” Beth said. “What with her special powers of observation.” She took a swig of soda water. “It’s invaluable when you work in news.”
Griff pulled a face. “You’d better watch out I don’t take your job while you’re on maternity leave.”
“That’s one cliché too far.” Beth put her hands on her belly. “Besides, Griff, you’re not just my co-worker. You’re my friend. I trust you accordingly.”
“We’ll see when it comes to picking the new one’s godmother how good a friend you consider me to be.”
“Is it okay with everyone if I go out on the deck now?” Quinn’s father stood there grinning. He slapped Tommy on the back in a faux-macho way. “My daughter’s never taken a great interest in grilling, so all my hopes rest on you now, young man.”
“Tommy’s more a Good Housekeeping recipe kind of guy,” Beth said. “His key lime pie is to die for.”
“Come on, Bill, before the womenfolk get out of control,” Tommy said and headed out with Quinn’s dad in tow.
Too lazy to walk, Ethan crawled to his mother and pulled at the sleeve of her blouse. Beth took him into her lap.
“Another one of those in a few weeks,” Angus said.
Quinn looked at Maya. She’d been over the moon about it for months. Sometimes she wondered if Maya ha
d been so overjoyed with the prospect of having another grandchild that she’d asked Quinn to move in with her whilst in a state of delirium. While it was true that Quinn stayed over at Maya’s a lot, sometimes not returning home for a full week, she hadn’t expected the question. Ever since Rachel, more than ten years ago, Quinn hadn’t lived with a romantic partner. Ironically, it was Rachel kicking her out that had brought her and Maya together for the first time. That she had just moved into Maya’s condo was just another example of how you could never guess how life would play out.
“At least you’ll have an extra pair of younger hands to help you,” Quinn’s mother said, surprising everyone. As the year had progressed, her quips had become less sharp and, most surprising of all, even a little bit funny at times.
“Bwook,” Ethan suddenly shouted, leaving all of them in stitches. He held out his little arms in Quinn’s mother’s direction.
Quinn’s mother melted on the spot. She might have railed against Maya being a grandmother when she’d first found out about Quinn and Maya, but she sure looked happy to have a small child in her life.
“This member of the womenfolk is going to get the salads together.” Quinn stood. Since moving into Maya’s luxurious condo with its swanky marble-topped kitchen, she’d been doing more cooking than she’d previously done in all her life.
Maya followed her into the kitchen. “Let’s do it together,” she said.
Chapter 45
On the actual day of the first anniversary of them seeing each other again—the day of that fateful photo shoot—Maya had giddily agreed to Quinn’s suggestion. It had sounded like such a romantic idea at the time, but now as they stood outside the tattoo parlor she wasn’t so sure.
Maya was in the second half of her fifties. What was she doing getting a tattoo? And a matching one with Quinn at that? When she looked at it from a regular, everyday kind of viewpoint, the whole thing was preposterous. But then she glanced over at Quinn, and pictured all of Quinn’s existing tattoos, and then the whole thing made a lot more sense again.
“Ready?” Quinn asked, and took her hand.
“Hell, no.”
“Sometimes it’s better to jump before you’re ready.” Quinn pulled her inside.
“You have a motto for every situation,” Maya muttered under her breath, but Quinn wasn’t even listening anymore.
The tattoo artist greeted Quinn as though she were a long-lost friend. Quinn introduced Maya and the woman didn’t so much as bat an eyelid—that was New York for you. Maya had learned as much. She’d been here over a year and a half now and during that time she had found out that it took a lot to perturb a New Yorker. Of course, they were met with a raised eyebrow once in a while and when she told Indira at Acton about her and Quinn, she’d seen her swallow as her brain computed that particular bit of information about Maya’s personal life. But most people, Maya had found, like this tattoo artist, didn’t care one iota about Quinn and Maya being together. It was a refreshing experience for Maya who had spent the best part of her younger years being judged in dance competitions and the time between then and now in a small town like Milbury where gossip spread like wildfire. Then again, if she’d stayed in Milbury, she wouldn’t be on the cusp of getting a tattoo right now.
“I’ll go first,” Quinn said. She looked Maya in the eye. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not totally convinced. Lasering ink off your skin is a real bitch, babe. You’d better be sure.” Quinn had always had an unflinching quality about her, even all those years ago, when she’d seduced Maya as though it was a well-practiced hobby to go after middle-aged women from the suburbs.
“I know.” Maya couldn’t keep the tension out of her voice, but she was allowed to be tense about this. This was a big thing. This tattoo, wasn’t simply permanently marking her skin; she was also saying to Quinn that she was in this for the long haul. Although, as Quinn had told her when she’d first suggested this, it wasn’t exactly like getting married either.
“Because divorce might actually be easier than getting a tattoo removed,” Maya had quipped.
Quinn had shaken her head, and said, “Our tattoos will match because we’re together. If something were to ever drive us apart, it doesn’t mean we have to get the tattoo removed. We’re not getting each other’s name tattooed on our bodies. The text can work perfectly well on its own.”
Quinn took off her top. Her tattoo would be on the other side of her body that said Life is for living.
Maya had once joked to Quinn that if she ever found herself somewhere without a book and needed distraction, she could always read Quinn’s skin. She watched as the artist disinfected Quinn’s side and prepared her equipment. Before she started, she studied the note with the text Quinn had given her earlier.
“Same font as the one on the other side?” the artist asked casually, as though Quinn was a piece of paper she was about to write on.
Quinn confirmed and the tattoo artist got to work.
Maya tried not to look at Quinn’s face. If she really had doubts about getting a tattoo, she wouldn’t be here. She would have stalled or simply said no. But she wanted it in the same reckless but unmistakable way she’d wanted Quinn, over eleven years ago and again a year ago. What scared Maya most was the prospect of physical pain. Having a needle jabbed repeatedly into your skin wasn’t her idea of a fun afternoon.
“It’s half an hour of pain in return for a lifetime of feeling connected to me,” Quinn had said, with that silver tongue of hers.
Nerves coiling into a tight knot in her stomach, Maya watched Quinn get tattooed. The text wasn’t long and it wasn’t part of an elaborate artwork—Quinn saved that for her day job—so it was fairly straightforward and, indeed, didn’t take much longer than half an hour.
“Do you want to take a look?” the tattoo artist asked Maya.
Maya nodded and walked to Quinn’s other side.
It wasn’t pretty—yet—but the words of Quinn’s new tattoo were clear as day: Some nights are unforgettable.
When Maya’s eyes fell on it, all her nerves melted like snow under the sun. She straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and said, “I’m ready for mine.”
* * *
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Maya and Quinn’s story.
* * *
If you liked this age-gap romance, you may enjoy my other book in the same genre: If You Kiss Me Like That.
CLICK HERE TO READ IF YOU KISS ME LIKE THAT NOW >>
A Note from Harper
What if it was almost as easy, and definitely cheaper, to buy ebooks directly from me?
When you buy ebooks directly from me, less of your money goes into the pockets of the big retailer platforms (and I can give you a nice discount!)
For the easy part: I use a book delivery service called BookFunnel that will send the book to your reading device of choice in a couple of steps. (You might have already used it because I also use it to deliver the free books you get when you sign up for my newsletter.)
BookFunnel also has an app for your phone or tablet where you’ll be able to find all the books you’ve bought, in case you need to change devices, so your ebooks will always be accessible.
As for the cheaper part, I’m offering a 15% discount on any books you buy direct from me. Just put in the promo code DIRECTBLISS at check-out and it will be applied to all your purchases.
Thank you,
Harper xo
Get Three Books FOR FREE
Building a relationship with my readers is the very best thing about writing. I occasionally send newsletters with details on new releases, special offers and giveaways.
And if you sign up to my mailing list I’ll send you all this free stuff:
A copy of Few Hearts Survive, a Pink Bean Series novella that is ONLY available to my mailing list subscribers.
A free copy of Hired Help, my very first (and therefore very special to me) lesbian erotic romance story.
A free copy of my first ‘lon
ger’ work, my highly romantic novella (35.000 words) Summer’s End, set on an exotic beach in Thailand.
You can get Few Hearts Survive (a Pink Bean Series novella), Hired Help (a spicy F/F novelette) and Summer’s End (a deeply romantic lesfic novella) for free by signing up at harperbliss.com/freebook/
Click here to get started: www.harperbliss.com/freebook/
About the Author
* * *
Harper Bliss is a best-selling lesbian romance author. Among her most-loved books are the highly dramatic French Kissing and the often thought-provoking Pink Bean series.
Harper lived in Hong Kong for 7 years, travelled the world for a bit, and has now settled in Brussels (Belgium) with her wife and photogenic cat, Dolly Purrton.
Together with her wife, she hosts a weekly podcast called Harper Bliss & Her Mrs.
Harper loves hearing from readers and you can reach her at the email address below.
www.harperbliss.com
[email protected]
Also by Harper Bliss