Lost for Words

by Andrea Bramhall

  She could smell Sasha’s arousal as she wrapped her fingers in Sasha’s hair and pulled her head back, licking at the underside of her jaw.

  “Are you ready?”

  “I’ve been ready since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  Jac rose on her knees, then tore open the condom packet, while Sasha looked over her shoulder at her. “Any particular position you favour?” she asked as she slid the condom down the length of the shaft.

  “I want to look in your eyes while you’re inside me.” Sasha turned over and raised her knees, reaching out her hands to Jac.

  Jac nodded but she still wasn’t quite ready yet. She kissed each knee, then nibbled down Sasha’s thighs, avoiding the soaked folds of her centre as she crawled up the length of Sasha’s body and drew a nipple between her lips. Sasha gasped and rolled her hips towards Jac.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “I need you.”

  Jac slowly reached between their bodies to guide the phallus to Sasha’s entrance. “God, you’re so wet.”

  “All your fault.”

  “I’ll gladly take responsibility for that.” Jac grinned and eased the head in a fraction. Still mindful of Sasha’s request for slow, she propped herself on her knees and elbows, sinking into her a millimetre at a time. “Slow enough for you, baby?”

  Sasha licked her lips, her attention clearly focused on the sensations between her legs. “You are a master torturer.” She gazed up at Jac, running her fingers through her hair again. “But, yes, this is perfect.”

  Loving the look of deep satisfaction that covered Sasha’s face, Jac smiled when she finally accepted the full length of her and their entire bodies were pressed firmly together.

  “Okay?” Jac asked softly. Sasha nodded and tugged her down for a kiss, deep and slow, and totally consuming.

  Sasha finally tore her mouth away. Panting, she pulled Jac’s head to her shoulder and murmured, “Now fuck me,” into her ear.

  Jac didn’t need telling twice. She established a rhythm quickly, pulling back and thrusting in time with every counterthrust of Sasha’s hips. Every movement caused a delicious friction between the base of the dildo and her clit, and when Sasha bent her head and took one of her nipples into her mouth, she couldn’t stop herself. She called out Sasha’s name as the first tendrils of orgasm unfurled in her belly, shooting sparks through her groin and causing her muscles to clamp tight.

  Sasha’s fingernails down her back, and the upwards thrust of her hips as she chased her own orgasm, fired Jac into moving as much as she could, and she felt like throwing her head back and crowing when Sasha let out a strangled gasp and bucked wildly beneath her.

  “Yes,” Sasha ground out, her voice gravelly and deep. Her arms wrapped around Jac’s back, eyes closed, mouth open, and looking more beautiful than Jac had ever thought possible.

  It could have been seconds, or it could have been hours later when Jac slowly eased out of her, unbuckled the harness, and tossed it all over the side of the bed. She pulled a boneless Sasha into her embrace, kissed the top of her head, and sighed as Sasha wrapped herself in and over Jac’s body, sleep already claiming her.

  Breakfast would wait.

  Chapter 22

  Sasha grabbed hold of Jac’s wandering hand, placed it flat against her side, and kept it covered with her own. “I need food and fluids before you can even think about getting me turned on another time.”

  “Too late. I’ve been thinking it ever since I woke up again.”

  She couldn’t stop herself smiling against Jac’s skin. “Fine, you can think about it, but I still need something to eat and drink before anything else.”

  “I can do that. What do you want to eat?”

  “What choice do I get?” She rolled off Jac and slowly stretched her body, the ache between her thighs reminding her off all the reasons she was so ravenous right now.

  “Well, you’ve seen my cupboards, right?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So I figured I’d take you out for something to eat.”

  Sasha ran a finger up and down the length of the thin white scar she’d seen last night but paid little attention to. It was clearly old and long healed. She wanted to know the story behind it, certain there had to be one.

  “What happened here?”

  Jac grasped her hand, kissed it, and whispered, “Another time, babe. It’s getting late, and I need to get you fed.”

  Sasha sighed. “Fine. What time is it?”

  “Almost twelve.”

  “Really?” Sasha sat up straight.

  “Yup.” Jac pointed to the clock on the nightstand. “Why?” She kissed Sasha’s shoulder. “Need to get home to your girlfriend?”

  “Funny,” Sasha said drolly. “I don’t want Mum to worry.” She looked about the floor, noting her discarded dress, shoes, and underwear across the room. “Where did I leave my bag?”

  “Kitchen, I think.” Jac climbed off the bed. “I’ll get it for you. Glass of water?”

  “Yeah, thanks. That’d be great.” She quickly made use of the bathroom and met Jac when she walked back into the room.

  “Your bag’s beeping,” she said and handed it over.

  “Thanks. Probably Mum wondering where I am.” She fished her mobile out of the small clutch bag and squinted at the flurry of messages waiting for her.

  “Is she worried?”

  Sasha shook her head and sat on the edge of the bed, thumbing through the texts. “No, she wants to know when I’ll be home and if I can stop at the chemist for her on the way. Her prescription’s been rung through and she wants me to pick it up on the way back, that’s all.” Sasha looked up at Jac. “I’m probably going to regret this when Mum starts telling you embarrassing stories about me, but would you mind taking me to the chemist and then taking me home? I’d like to get changed before going anywhere to eat, and if she’s asking for this, she probably needs it sooner rather than later.” She bit her lip, feeling more than a little shy all of a sudden. “I mean, if you want to still spend some more time together.”

  Jac shuffled across the bed until they were side by side, then took Sasha’s chin in her hand and kissed the corner of her mouth. “I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of the weekend with you. And the chance to see your mum again, well, that’s something special all by itself. Do you want to take her out for lunch with us? Would she like that?”

  “Really?” Pam had never, ever, wanted to spend time in Fleur’s company. It had caused more than a few arguments between them. And while Sasha understood that Fleur could be a little full on, and a little eccentric, she was her mother. And she loved every bizarre bone in her body. The idea that Jac would not only see her in the house, but go out to lunch with her touched Sasha more deeply than she could have expected.

  “Really.”

  “You’d really want to spend time with my crazy mother?”

  “Of course. She’s your mum.”

  “Pam didn’t even like coming around to the house with me when I went to visit her.” In fact, the only person in her life who had consistently spent time with her mother before had been Bobbi. Bobbi! Shit. I was going to go around and make things up with her. But the prospect of saying goodbye to Jac after last night… Well, that just felt wrong. And the idea of spending the day with Jac and her mother, letting them get to know each other, discovering more about Jac—that wasn’t something Sasha was going to say no to. She’d catch up with Bobbi later. She swallowed down the guilt. She wasn’t exactly letting Bobbi down. They hadn’t made plans for today, after all. It had only been a plan in her head. Sasha would make it up to her.

  “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, the woman was a freaking idiot.” She kissed Sasha’s shoulder again and rested her cheek against it. Sasha couldn’t stop herself from kissing the top of Jac’s head. Gestures of affection, not sexual sedu
ction, or post-coital actions. And they were quickly beginning to feel like the norm.

  “Give her a call and see if she wants to.” Jac stood and stretched. “I’m jumping in the shower. Don’t join me. I’m not going out with your mother smelling like I do right now.”

  “Make sure there’s enough hot water left for me, then,” Sasha called after her, and Jac waved her hand as she closed the door behind her. Sasha sighed and flopped back on the bed, her body aching wonderfully. She punched in her mum’s number and held her phone to her ear.

  “Hey, Mum.”

  “Honey, if you’re still”—she cleared her throat—“busy, then it can wait.”

  Sasha rolled her eyes. “Jac asked if you’d like to come out to lunch with us this afternoon.”

  “Really?”

  “Yup.”

  “I knew there was a reason I liked that one.” Fleur cleared her throat again. “That would be lovely. Where are we going?”

  “Tell you what, Mum, you decide. We’ll be there in an hour or so. I’ll just need a few minutes to change, but we can go anywhere you like.”

  “Hm, I’ll have to come up with somewhere good that serves potpourri.” Fleur’s cackling laugh was infectious.

  Sasha joined in the laughter. “You do that.”

  “How was the show?”

  “Wonderful.”

  “And the after-show show?” Fleur asked with a snigger.

  Sasha blushed, but there was little point trying to hide anything. Besides, her mother sure as shit wasn’t. “Even more wonderful,” she said with a sigh, feeling the warmth of memory sweep her body—just like Jac’s hands had.

  “Well, well, well, it’s about time,” Fleur cried. “I look forward to hearing all about it.”

  “What? No way. There’s a line, Mum, and that… Well, that’s like a line in another freaking country.”

  Fleur cackled again. “You’re such a prude, fruit of my loins.”

  “Ew, that’s such a horrible phrase. And I’m not a prude. I just don’t want to talk to my mum about sex. We did that when I was twelve, and you traumatised me, and then again when I came out at eighteen. A mother shouldn’t be asking her daughter for tips about oral sex.”

  “Well, you were the only lesbian I knew then. Who else was I going to ask? Your father wasn’t exactly the font of all knowledge when it came to—”

  Sasha held the phone away from her ear, wishing she could unhear most of what her mother said, waited, then tried to go back.

  “—I mean I loved the man, I truly did, but he was never gonna win any prizes for his tongue—”

  This time she held it away for longer.

  “—listening to me, or are you holding that phone away from your ear again?”

  “I’m here, Mum.”

  “Good. Well, since you won’t give me any juicy details, maybe I’ll just ask that stud you’ve bagged instead.”

  “No. Mum, just no. Please, please, don’t do that.”

  Fleur was quiet for a moment, then came back to Sasha with the tone she’d used only a few times in Sasha’s life. “You really like her, don’t you?”

  Sasha could barely whisper the word yes, but somehow she managed to get it past her lips.

  “And does she feel the same?”

  Did she? Sasha certainly hoped so, and Jac had certainly given her every reason to believe she did. She’d said all the right things. The sexual chemistry between them was, well, fucking electric. And she called her beautiful. And the look in her eyes when she said it certainly looked like she meant it.

  “I think so.”

  “Then it wouldn’t matter what I did say. She wouldn’t be going anywhere, but if it’ll make you feel better I promise I won’t ask her for details about your sex life.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll stick to generalisations from her past, ’cos I can tell she’s definitely got one of those to let me in on.”

  “Mum!”

  “Kidding, I’m kidding. You know, it gets easier and easier to wind you up, honey. You need to start smoking some of this stuff with me or try one of my brownies. That’ll chill you out.”

  The bathroom door opened and Jac walked out naked but for the towel she was rubbing over her head.

  “I’m going now, Mum. See you in an hour or so.”

  Fleur sighed. “Fine. See you in an hour.” Sasha hung up and propped herself up on her elbows, eyeing Jac appreciatively.

  “If we’re picking up your mum in an hour, you need to stop looking at me like that and go get in the shower. I’ll make coffee and find you a shirt or something that you can put on over your dress.” She bent down and kissed Sasha, grasped her hand, and tugged her to her feet, then pushed her towards the bathroom with a gentle tap to her bottom.

  “Oh, bossy.” Sasha threw her a saucy look over her shoulder. “I like that too.”

  The restaurant was bustling. Saturday lunchtime in any place was going to be busy, but it seemed as though everyone and their mother—literally—was out in force today. There was even a woman with a dog in a handbag on the table just three tables away. Jac almost wished she’d suggested Sasha bring Fleur to her apartment for lunch instead of going out, but Fleur was grinning and laughing so much she decided to sit back and just enjoy it for what it was. An afternoon with her girlfriend and her mother.

  It was a nice place. Long, white tablecloths, polished silverware, side plates, tap water served in fancy glass bottles. The full works. Sasha frowned at her mother, but Fleur looked to be in absolute heaven. Jac hadn’t seen her grin that much since, well, since the potpourri incident; so not that long ago, really. But Jac decided it was time to let go of that one.

  She reached under the heavy tablecloth and took Sasha’s hand, interlacing their fingers. Sasha glanced over to her and smiled, her head cocked to one side in silent question. Are you okay?

  Jac nodded.

  “So, Jac,” Fleur began after they’d placed their orders with the waitress. “Where are your family?”

  Jac let go of Sasha’s hand, shook out her napkin, and laid it across her lap, just needing something to do. “I don’t have any family. Well, except Sophie and Mags.” She smiled but knew it was a poor attempt by the look of sympathy etched on Fleur’s face.

  “I’m sorry,” Sasha said quietly beside her. When Jac finally managed to drag her gaze to meet hers, there was sympathy, yes, and empathy, but no pity. More of an understanding that Jac knew had come from Sasha losing her father years ago. That look compelled her to tell the truth. To tell them all her truth.

  “There’s a reason Sophie calls me Pan-pan, you know?”

  “Other than your refusal to grow up, you mean?”

  “Yes, other than that.” She paused while the waiter deposited drinks for them all, and took a sip of the Coke she’d ordered. She cleared her throat and wondered if she’d be able to get through it all, if she’d have to before they understood everything she couldn’t say. She picked up the knife that lay across the side plate and fiddled with it, wishing she had a cigarette in her hand instead. Christ, I can’t wait for that craving to finally go away. With determination, she put the knife down and took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

  “Many, many years ago,” she began in her best storyteller voice, “there was a woman, a beautiful young woman, who became pregnant. She was over the moon. Her husband was ecstatic when she told him. They were to be a true family. Happy and safe and secure, always.” Jac took a sip of her drink and slowly turned the glass on the tablecloth, watching the condensation run down the outside and blot the white cloth. “Just days after their little girl was born, the husband died, killed in an accident, and the young woman was so lost and alone and desperate that she did the unthinkable.” She swallowed. “At least that’s the story I’ve told myself since I was a child and learnt my mother le
ft her newborn child in a pram by the statue of Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens.”

  “Oh, Jac.” Sasha scooted her chair closer and wrapped her arm around her shoulders. “You don’t have to say anything else.” Sasha kissed her cheek.

  Jac studied her and smiled sadly. “I know. But I want you to know.” She flicked her gaze to Fleur and waited until the woman nodded. It was a nod that conveyed her understanding of what she was giving them both, and a nod that accepted the trust she was placing in them, a trust she’d offered so few in her life. “To this day, I don’t know who my parents were, what they did, where they came from, or even the simplest of things like where or when I was born. I was found on the third of October at seven thirty by a couple walking their dog in the park. I was in a pram, so clearly whoever had left me there had done some planning for my arrival. When I was older and the social workers told me about it all, they said that doctors thought I was anywhere up to a week old. But they couldn’t be sure.”

  A waiter passing the dog table set the little thing off yapping. Might be a Chihuahua, might be a pug…or some hybrid mutt crossed between the two. Jac couldn’t really tell; it was half-hidden in a checkerboard-style oversized bag. Whole new meaning to doggy bag. The food that set it off happened to be theirs and was set on the table before them with little fanfare. Jac couldn’t be certain, but she was fairly sure they’d all lost their appetites. Maybe that’s what the dog was yapping about. Detour request to drop the food off in his bag. She didn’t want to continue, but she wanted Sasha to know the truth of her. All of it.

  “There were no reports of missing or kidnapped children, no accidents involving new mothers, or anything like that that the authorities could point to and say, ‘There, that’s the woman. She’s the mother.’” Jac shook her head. “All they had was the name Jaclyn on my baby grow. So they stuck with it. I was placed in an orphanage, and apparently they had high hopes I’d be adopted. Babies are usually the first to be adopted. But I was sickly, so I didn’t get picked up. Who wants a snot-covered kid when the beautiful little blond baby looks more adorable, right?” She offered Sasha a self-deprecating grin and squeezed her hand.