Chemistry Lessons

by Jae

  “And since when are you the whistling type? Let me guess. You’re heading over to Regan’s for—”

  “For our Netflix night,” Ky finished the sentence before her roommate could imply something else.

  “Ooh, Netflix and chill!”

  Ky growled.

  “No? Then maybe IMAX and cli—”

  Ky pulled off the sneaker she’d just put on and threw it at her.

  It bounced off the wall next to Lilia, who ducked and laughed.

  “And to think I recommended you for the assistant cafeteria manager position,” Ky muttered. Then she froze. Damn. She hadn’t meant to let that slip, in case Fran would ignore her suggestion.

  Lilia stopped laughing. “You recommended me? I thought it was Fran’s idea.”

  “Oh, so she asked you?”

  “Yeah, yesterday, when we were cleaning up.”

  “So, what did you say?” Ky asked. “Are you going to take the job if they offer it to you?”

  “Only if you’re sure you don’t want it.”

  Ky firmly shook her head. “It’s all yours.”

  Lilia did a victory dance. “I’m gonna be your boss! But don’t worry; I’ll be the best boss ever. I’ll even put you on breakfast cart duty in the science wing every day so you can see your girlfriend.” She teasingly drew out the last word as if expecting her to object to it—but Ky didn’t.

  A key rattled in the front door.

  Wearing only one shoe, Ky padded to the wide archway connecting the hallway in front of their rooms with the living room and stuck her head out so she could see the entrance.

  “Ky? Lil?” Regan called as she entered.

  After last night, seeing her felt different. So far, being around Regan had always felt as if life was an inside joke that only she and Regan shared. Now life seemed like something precious, to be nurtured in their clasped hands.

  Even though it hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Ky had seen her…kissed her, she drank her in as if they’d been apart for weeks.

  Regan looked breathtaking in her favorite pair of blue jeans and her T-shirt with the We’ve got great chemistry slogan.

  Ky smiled. Yes, we do. After years of denying it, it felt freeing to finally admit it. She walked over to kiss her hello. That she was allowed to do so still made her heart pound with joy. “Hey, you’re early.” She brushed her lips against Regan’s, then lingered for a moment. God, she smelled good, like apricot and some kind of lotion. “And you used your key! You haven’t done that in a while.”

  Regan jiggled her key ring. “It didn’t feel right to let myself in when I picked you up for a date. But I figured after last night, we’re not just dating anymore so…”

  “Ooh, what happened last night?” Lilia asked as she joined them in the living room with Ky’s sneaker.

  Ky snatched it out of her hands and whacked her shoulder with it before putting it on. “None of your business.” The first time they had said “I love you” was too private to share, even with someone she considered a friend.

  Once they had waved goodbye to Lilia and had gotten in the car, Regan reached across the middle console and took Ky’s hand. “Thank you for last night.”

  “No, thank you—for having the courage to say it.”

  “Say what?” Regan gave her a blank stare.

  Ky stared back. What on earth…? Then she caught on and couldn’t help smiling. “Ah. You just want to hear me say it again.”

  The corners of Regan’s mouth curled into an impish grin. “I really wouldn’t mind.”

  Ky pulled Regan closer by their joined hands. “I love you.”

  A soft light shone in Regan’s dark eyes. “I love you too.”

  Their lips met for a quick kiss, which then turned into a not-so-quick kiss.

  Finally, Regan pulled back with obvious reluctance. “We’d better get going before they burn our pizza. I called the Pizza Lounge before I came over.”

  Unless Ky cooked or Regan made sandwiches, that was their usual routine for Netflix night, but Ky hadn’t been sure if that was what Regan had planned for tonight. What else? It’s just Netflix. Not Netflix and chill.

  That thought should have been comforting—after all, she was the one who had requested going slow. But now Ky found that she was actually a little disappointed. She laughed at herself.

  “What?” Regan asked as she started the car.

  “Uh, nothing.”

  * * *

  An hour later, they sat on Regan’s couch, the empty pizza box discarded on the floor because they needed the space on the coffee table for the motivational posters they were making for Regan’s students.

  They had broken with tradition and were watching Central Precinct instead of Rizzoli and Isles—a show in which the hot female detective and the cute medical examiner actually got together.

  Ky smiled. Interesting how their choice of TV shows reflected their lives. She definitely looked at Regan the way the detective looked at the medical examiner—especially because Regan’s T-shirt was a little too big and too loose at the neck, so it kept sliding off one shoulder, revealing smooth skin.

  Not that their choice of shows mattered. Ky barely paid it any attention since she was busy watching Regan.

  Muttering something, Regan clamped the pen she’d been using between her teeth so she could push the shirt back up.

  Ky pointed at Regan’s poster. “Is that supposed to rhyme, like the others?”

  “Of course,” Regan mumbled around the pen.

  “Um, I don’t know how to tell you this, but breath and best don’t rhyme.”

  Regan took the pen from her mouth and poked Ky with its end. “But they sound very poetic. And motivational.”

  “Oh, they do?”

  “Very.” Regan’s husky voice made Ky’s pulse speed up. “Want me to demonstrate?”

  The air between them seemed to hum with electricity.

  Ky’s mouth went dry, so she just nodded.

  Regan dropped her pen onto the coffee table, took Ky’s from her hand, and put both of their posters safely out of the way. Like a lithe panther, she crawled toward Ky, then knelt next to her and steadied herself with one hand on Ky’s jean-clad thigh.

  Heat swept up Ky’s body.

  “These very poetic words can be used to form a sentence like…” Regan leaned down and lowered her voice to a sensual whisper. “Regan leaves Ky breathless because she totally kisses the best.”

  Breathless indeed. Ky could barely think, much less breathe. “You’re right,” she got out. “That’s very motivational. But the only thing it motivates me to do is this.” She cradled Regan’s face in both hands and guided her down until their lips met.

  Regan’s moan reverberated against Ky’s lips. Eagerly, she deepened the kiss.

  Their tongues touched and tasted, circled and stroked.

  Regan dug her hand into Ky’s thigh as if struggling to stay upright, then slid her leg across Ky’s lap and straddled her without breaking the kiss.

  Oh God! Fire leaped through Ky. She clutched Regan’s hips with both hands.

  Something urgent flared to life between them.

  The back-and-forth of lips and tongues grew more demanding with every pass.

  Regan fisted Ky’s shirt, then tugged it out of her jeans and slipped her hands beneath.

  The slide of her fingers up her bare sides made Ky gasp.

  Regan pressed closer, softly rocking against her. As she trailed her fingers back down, she grazed the outer curve of Ky’s breasts.

  A current skittered through Ky’s body.

  Then, on the next stroke up, Regan paused and cupped one breast through her bra.

  Ky felt as if she would come undone right then and there. She arched against Regan and dug her fingers into her tight butt to pull her closer.

  Regan made a little sound in the back of her throat, jolting Ky’s senses.

  Holy shit! This was possibly the hottest moment of her life—and it was happening w
ith Regan!

  Gasping, Ky tore her lips away.

  Regan stared down at her with a hunger Ky had never expected to see in her eyes. Then Regan blinked, and her pupils widened even more in what looked like a mix of shock and desire. “Oh God. I’m touching your breast.” She pulled her hands out from beneath Ky’s shirt and looked at one of them as if she barely recognized it as her own.

  The almost comical look on her face made Ky laugh, finally breaking her tension.

  Regan stared for a few seconds longer, then her booming laughter vibrated through Ky. She slumped forward and rested her forehead against Ky’s shoulder.

  The intimate press of her thighs against Ky’s hips sent a renewed wave of heat through Ky. “God, what you are doing to me. And, to be honest, the fact that this is you doing this to me is freaking me out a little.”

  “Me too,” Regan whispered against her shoulder. Her warm breath grazed Ky’s neck, raising a trail of goose bumps. “My mind is kinda caught between ‘What the hell are we doing?’ and ‘Why aren’t we doing more of it?’”

  “Which one is winning?”

  Regan kissed a sensitive spot beneath Ky’s ear. “What do you think?”

  “I think…” Ky shivered beneath Regan’s lips. She slid her fingers into Regan’s curly hair, caressed her for a moment, then gently pulled Regan’s mouth away from her skin so she could think. This was a big step for them, and she wanted to take it fully conscious of what it meant, not in a daze of desire. She looked into Regan’s eyes and said, “I think I’d like it to be the ‘doing more of it.’ But not here. Take me to bed.”

  Regan’s sharp inhale echoed through the room. She touched her fingertips to Ky’s cheek. “Are you sure?”

  “You’ve always been the one sure thing in my life, and while a lot between us has changed, that hasn’t.” Ky caressed the small of Regan’s back. “I want this with you. I want you.”

  With a low moan, Regan pressed her lips to Ky’s once more, then slid off her lap and held out her hand.

  Ky’s body instantly protested the loss of contact so she locked their fingers together and followed her on shaky legs.

  Hand in hand, they stumbled to the bedroom.

  * * *

  A hazy fog filled Regan’s mind as she stood next to her bed. Her body ached where she had straddled Ky and rocked against her. God, had she really just done that?

  Yes, and we’re about to do so much more. This is happening. We’re about to make love.

  She wanted that—wanted it desperately, but she wasn’t sure where to start, afraid the wrong move or wrong word would break the mood. Earlier, on the couch, it had been easy because she hadn’t been thinking, only feeling.

  Then do that again. Don’t think. Feel.

  She grasped the hem of her T-shirt and peeked at Ky, who was fiddling with the hem of hers and peering at Regan.

  Both laughed nervously.

  The air in the bedroom seemed thick with a mix of nerves and desire.

  Regan decided to take the initiative. Ky already knew what parts of her body she was self-conscious about, just as Regan knew Ky didn’t like her own thighs, so Regan wasn’t shy about baring herself to Ky. She was safe with Ky, and yet her hands shook as she stripped off her T-shirt and let it drop to the floor.

  Her bra wasn’t exactly sexy—just simple white cotton since she hadn’t been prepared for this kind of sleepover—but it didn’t matter. Not when Ky looked at her as if she wanted to worship every inch of her…if she found the courage to give in to that urge.

  Regan unbuttoned her jeans and eased them down her hips and legs.

  Ky stood very, very still, the hem of her shirt bunched in both fists, her gaze following the path of the jeans down.

  When they pooled around Regan’s ankles, she kicked them aside.

  Her heart picked up its already rapid pace as Ky pulled up her own shirt, revealing inch after inch of smooth-looking skin.

  With awe, Regan took in the sexy flare of Ky’s broad hips, her slender waist, long, elegant torso, and strong shoulders. Of course, she had seen Ky half-naked before, but never when she’d been about to touch her.

  Ky dropped the shirt and stood in front of Regan in just her jeans and a black bra that was as simple as Regan’s. Her short hair was deliciously disheveled since she’d pulled the shirt over her head, making her bold features look softer.

  Regan ached to touch her and had to remind herself it was all right to want that—and to do it. She bridged the remaining space between them and ran her fingertips along one bra strap, then down Ky’s back until she reached the waistband of her pants. “I always thought you look great in jeans, but you look even better in just jeans.”

  Ky’s lashes fluttered at that barely there touch. “It isn’t just jeans yet,” she said, her voice hoarse.

  “Mmm, right. Let’s remedy that.” Regan traced a path back up along Ky’s spine until she reached the catch of her bra, where she paused and waited for Ky’s nod of approval. When it came, she undid the hooks, taking the opportunity when she was already close to press her lips to Ky’s collarbone, then trace the edge of her bra before placing a line of kisses up her neck.

  A noticeable shudder went through Ky. She wrapped her arms around Regan and brought their bodies together. Their nearly bare chests pressed against each other, with Regan’s bra-clad breasts nestled beneath Ky’s, instantly generating heat.

  A low moan escaped Regan. Ky was doing a great job at helping her feel, not think. Regan couldn’t get enough of having her this close. She touched her lips to the spot where Ky’s pulse pounded urgently.

  Groaning, Ky slid one hand into Regan’s hair and gently pulled her head up until their mouths met.

  Ky’s bare skin on her own, her tongue against hers sent tiny electrical pulses through Regan’s body. Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She had to feel all of her. She pulled back and slid the straps down Ky’s shoulders.

  The bra tumbled to the floor—along with her own.

  Apparently, Ky had somehow managed to open her bra without Regan noticing.

  Regan grinned at her. “And here I thought I knew all of your skills.” Then she stopped joking and took her in: the line where the lightly tanned skin of Ky’s upper chest met the creamy swell of her breasts; the pleasing curve; her pink nipples, lighter than her own.

  She wanted to tell Ky that she did look even better in just her jeans, but her vocal cords didn’t cooperate, allowing only a moan of appreciation, so she decided to show her instead. Slowly, she cupped one breast in her palm.

  For a second, it felt surreal to touch Ky like this, but it also felt so very right, and as she stroked its outer curve with her thumb, drawing a gasp from Ky, that surreal feeling faded away and left only passion behind.

  When Regan’s thumb grazed her nipple, Ky let out a tortured groan. She slid her hands down Regan’s bare back, grasped her hips, and kissed her, deep and demanding.

  Regan’s head spun as Ky directed her backward, onto the bed. She moved to the middle and waited for Ky to follow her down, but instead, Ky braced herself on one knee and studied her. Her eyes looked gray now, with sparks of greenish amber, as if they were smoldering.

  Their entire lives, Regan had always taken the lead in all their adventures, and this role reversal was unexpected—and totally hot.

  Too hot for Regan to wait. She hooked her fingers through the belt loops of Ky’s jeans and tugged her down.

  Still in her jeans, Ky covered Regan with her body, perfectly evening out their height difference.

  A shiver went through Regan as Ky settled in the V of her thighs. The skin-on-skin contact, Ky’s gentle weight on top of her, and the light pressure of Ky’s pelvis against her center left Regan flushed.

  Ky braced herself on her elbows and tenderly kissed the racing pulse in Regan’s neck, then followed the path of Regan’s freckles across her shoulders and down one arm.

  Ky’s lips found the inside of Regan’s forearm. Wow. Wh
en had that spot become an erogenous zone? Regan shivered and clutched her closer.

  With leisurely caresses that made Regan quiver and sigh, Ky explored her body. She kissed a mole on Regan’s arm, then the scar on her elbow from when Regan had fallen off her bike as a kid. With her hands and lips, Ky charted a blazing path down her body, pausing at each and every little mark to lavish attention on it.

  Finally, she trailed her tongue over the first of the three tiny appendix scars, this one barely visible on Regan’s upper belly.

  A gasp escaped Regan. She buried her finger in Ky’s silky hair and squirmed against her as Ky’s lips moved lower.

  Ky trailed a line of licks down Regan’s belly, then kissed the edge of the second scar, hidden in Regan’s belly button, before moving on.

  The slow glide of her mouth across her skin sent Regan’s senses reeling. It took her dazed brain a few moments to grasp where Ky was heading: to the third tiny appendix scar, right beneath the edge of her panties.

  Desire crashed through her. She bucked against Ky and clutched at her head, not knowing if she wanted to push her down or pull her up. Ky already had her slick with need, and if she slid any farther down, she’d discover how wet the cotton between her legs was. Regan’s cheeks burned.

  Ky paused, her lips hovering over the edge of Regan’s panties. She sent a questioning gaze up, into Regan’s eyes.

  The look on Ky’s face, reverent and hungry, stilled the nervous flutter in Regan’s belly. Ky wanted her, wanted this as much as she did.

  Whatever Ky saw in Regan’s own expression seemed to be encouragement enough for her to slide down the elastic and kiss the little scar. Her chin brushed Regan’s damp curls, and her nostrils flared as she breathed in her scent.

  Regan couldn’t stand it any longer. She arched up her hips and shoved at her panties. “Off. Now. Yours too.”

  Ky slid them down Regan’s hips and legs, then tossed them aside, followed by her own jeans and underwear.

  Regan barely had time to take in her dark curls and curvy thighs before Ky was back on the bed. She slid her lips up one leg, to the roller-skating scar on Regan’s knee.

  Oh God. If Ky kissed a path up her thigh to where Regan needed her most, this would all be over in ten point two seconds, and Regan didn’t want that. “Come up here.”