She wanted more.
The Last Supper, as Linda dubbed it, was as delicious as the others. Marissa had more raw tuna and no breadfruit. The sweet rice with the tuna was perfect when chased by a dab of local mashed root of some kind. She didn’t follow the French word for it but her mouth called it horseradish.
“I don’t think I should have anything to drink.” Marissa dabbed 57
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up the last of the rice with her fingertip, aware she was being uncivilized but Linda was doing the same thing and grinning. “My head is still a little dicey.”
“Now, how can I appear to be a suave and debonair financier if you’re sober?”
Marissa couldn’t resist the teasing in Linda’s voice. “You’ll just have to work harder.”
“Give me some pointers.” Linda swirled the wine glass in her hand before sipping again from the deep red liquid. “What do you like in a date?”
“Is this a date?” The question was out before Marissa thought better of it.
“Isn’t it? You dressed up, after all.”
Marissa spluttered with laughter. “Yes, I wore the clean T-shirt.”
“So it must be a date.”
Marissa wanted to ask why Linda hadn’t kissed her until their last day, almost their last evening. The kiss had been worth waiting for but tomorrow was so close now. She wanted something that sealed this vacation in some kind of Hall of Fame. But for what, she asked herself? Terror? Confusion? Crushes on Women Who Looked Like Amazons?
“I like dates that don’t end.” Marissa grinned but she was serious.
“They all end, eventually.” Linda’s eyes were in the shadows.
Marissa didn’t think Linda meant to send the chill that crept over the table toward her but she couldn’t help but shiver. “Some don’t. Some people—and I should know—find happy ever after.”
“Ah.” Linda leaned forward and her face came into the light.
Brown eyes soft, she said, “That’s not dating anymore. That’s living.”
“How did you get so wise?”
Linda’s eyebrows arched. “There are a lot of things that are easier to talk about than actually do.”
Puzzled, Marissa opened her mouth to ask but the waiter 58
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stopped to offer them a sorbet of pineapple and coconut. The cool, creamy blend was refreshing and not too sweet. By the time they were both licking their spoons for the last time and the bottle of red wine was empty, Marissa had forgotten all of her questions.
She wanted something other than answers.
“Want to walk on the beach?” Linda paused at the exit that led past the moonlit swimming pool.
“Sure.” The moon was incredible, its full splendor streaking the ocean with a path that surely led to magical realms. Don’t be foolish, said the voice of practical reality. You’re not a fairy princess about to be swept off your feet.
But I want to be, Marissa thought. I want that experience and I never let myself think it could happen to me before.
You’re going to get hurt, the little voice persisted, but Marissa shushed it with the memory of Linda’s warm lips on hers.
Flip flops dangling from her fingers, Marissa ran to the surf, aware of Linda falling behind. The warm water washed over her ankles as Marissa turned back to look at Linda’s dark silhouette.
The moonlight illuminated her own footprints not yet washed away by the tide. They were like a path that Linda could walk down if she wanted to join Marissa.
I want her to take that path, Marissa thought. Walk right down here, take me into her arms and kiss me again.
Impossibly, even though the moon seemed to be sprinkling the air with silver dust, Linda fit her feet into the prints that Marissa had left in the crusted sand. Marissa heart stopped when Linda stopped only a foot away.
“I’d like to visit you, sometime,” Linda said in a voice barely louder than the gentle surf.
“I’d like that very much,” Marissa answered.
She didn’t feel bold. She looked into Linda’s eyes and didn’t feel as if all Linda saw was her breasts. She didn’t feel like she was convenient nor that she was supposed to be grateful.
She felt wonderful.
Linda kissed her and she felt perfect.
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Their lips made the same sound as the lazy surf washing over the soft, yielding sand. Linda made a noise, something Marissa could only define as pleased surprise, and Marissa found herself tipping her head so that Linda could pull her close.
The kiss softened in pressure but increased in sensual abandon.
Marissa rubbed her lips against Linda’s as their breathing fell into close rhythm. Linda made that noise again and let Marissa go, her lips curving in a full, wide smile.
She said only, “Wow,” before she took Marissa’s hand and led her along the wet sand.
Marissa kicked the water, letting it rush through her toes. Why she felt so innocent when she was having such carnal thoughts she didn’t know but she wasn’t going to explore that conflict right now.
Right now, she was going to hold Linda’s hand and let anything and everything happen.
“I might not be able to visit for a while.”
“I still don’t know much about you,” Marissa pointed out.
“You’ve never said what it is you do.”
“I don’t have to work.” Linda’s hand tightened around Marissa’s in a rare show of tension.
Marissa wanted to ask more questions but couldn’t bear the thought of endangering the fragile connection that finally seemed to be emerging. “I gave you all my contact information. It’s unlikely I’ll be anywhere else for the next few months.”
Linda’s hand relaxed and Marissa wondered what the secret was. A mob boss’s daughter? Royalty run away from an arranged marriage? You’ve watched too much cable television, she chided herself.
“I won’t lose it,” Linda said quietly. She squeezed Marissa’s fingers, turning them to face each other.
Marissa felt gathered up and completely enfolded in Linda’s arms as she arched into Linda’s embrace. Let the moon be the wit-ness, she thought, as Linda’s mouth found hers again. I love how she makes me feel and I can handle it if tonight is all there ever is.
She hoped she wasn’t lying to herself.
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Linda’s fingers moved playfully up Marissa’s ribs. “You’re a good sport, Marissa. Thank you for this week.”
“I don’t want to be a good sport.” A little laugh escaped her. “I want to be Ginger. Just for tonight.”
“Helpless?”
Marissa shook her head. “Irresistible.”
“I’m having a very hard time resisting you,” Linda murmured.
“Why are you even trying?” Up on her tiptoes, Marissa pressed her lips to Linda’s, trying not to moan and failing within moments.
Linda made a low, almost growling noise and the playful hands turned forceful, pulling Marissa’s hips against her even as she tipped Marissa’s head back with the force of her kiss. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted.”
“I didn’t know how to say.”
Linda smiled against Marissa’s mouth. “You’ve explained algorithms, statistical sampling and the mysteries of couple dynamics and you’re going to stop talking now?”
In the moonlight, Linda’s eyes were black but the laughter in them was bright. “It’s not a language I’m familiar with. You don’t program lovers like computers.”
“More’s the pity. Want to try?”
Marissa pushed Linda back. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”
“I’m not. Really.” Linda’s voice dropped and the laughter in her eyes went away. “I’d really like to go to bed with you. I’ve wanted you since . . . halfway up the cliff.”
“You’re kidding. Those
were the worst moments of my life.”
“And you smiled through them. Fought your way through them. I was wondering if you attacked sex the way you attacked that climb.” Linda’s expression was caught between chagrin and desire. “You were incredibly inspiring.”
“I was arguing with my mother.”
“Ugh.” Linda made a face. “Okay, that ruined the mood.”
“Sorry.” Marissa could have bitten her tongue off. The fragile moment was gone. Though the sand still felt wonderful between 61
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her toes and the moon’s mystical path was as bright as ever, the moment was undeniably gone.
Linda padded out of the bathroom with a puff of steam behind her, hair still damp and hanging down her back, leaving a wet trail on her thin T-shirt. Marissa tried to look as if she was reading but she couldn’t take her eyes off the tall, lithe figure. Nor could she stop her fantasies from running through her head in full, screaming digital clarity.
“Do you want something?” Linda was looking at Marissa in the mirror over the shared dresser.
Caught staring, Marissa tried for a flirtatious smile. “Yes.”
“So do I.”
Her heart pounding more and more rapidly, Marissa watched Linda cross the room to the light switch and the last clear vision she had of Linda was the hungry look in her eyes. Then there was moonlight only to illuminate the difference between the dark and Linda’s hair.
There was only a hint of sound as Linda sat on the edge of Marissa’s bed. One broad hand cupped Marissa’s thigh, pushing her gently onto her back.
“Is this what you wanted, Marissa?”
“Yes. Please, yes.”
“It’s what I want too. Please,” Linda whispered in Marissa’s ear.
“Let me feel how wild, how sensuous you can be.”
Soft, scented hair surrounded Marissa’s face as she arched to the first tentative touch of Linda’s hand between her legs. “I want to be everything I can be for you.”
Linda gasped as her fingers slipped into heat and wet. “I’ve never felt so close . . . stayed so close.”
Marissa pulled Linda’s mouth to hers and for several minutes kisses were their only conversation. Linda’s fingers were playful but indirect. Marissa realized, surfacing from one deeply intimate kiss that they were rocking together like the motion of their 62
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lifeboat, and the idea wasn’t alarming. Fate lent a hand, she thought, smiling into the next kiss.
“What?” Linda raised her head.
Marissa shook her head. “Sorry, I was just thinking that the lifeboat was fun and it led to this and—oh!”
Linda moved firmly on top of Marissa, her hand pushing Marissa’s thighs farther apart. “This is what I want to talk about.
What you need right now. How I can give you what you want.”
“Touch me.” Marissa drew in a sharp breath. Linda’s fingers were still not as direct as she wanted and yet she was responding to the light brushes into her wetness. It felt intensely good and she hadn’t realized she could get this excited this fast and this way. Yet, what was the surprise? She’d been fantasizing about Linda making love to her for days. Now that it was happening Marissa had never felt so aware of every muscle in her body.
Linda slipped one arm under her and arched Marissa into her.
Marissa ran one hand over Linda’s back and resented that her T-shirt was in the way of skin.
She tugged the shirt upward. “Oh, please. It’s so dark and I want to feel you.”
Linda murmured something and sat up. For a brief moment they were no longer touching. Marissa yanked off her own T-shirt and tossed it to the floor, then Linda was there again, and this time they were all skin, yielding and taking.
The breasts Marissa had once upon a time resented finally seemed to make complete sense. Linda’s mouth was on them, her tongue and lips bringing tingles to the nerves. Her nipples hard-ened and they brushed against Linda’s in a spasm of awareness.
Linda moaned and this time Marissa could understand the words that followed. “No one has ever felt like you.”
“You’re making me crazy. Your hand . . . touch me.”
The drawl of pleasure in Linda’s voice was unmistakable. “I am touching you. You feel amazing. Wet and swollen.”
“I’ve been this way for a couple of days now. I want you so much. I don’t know if I’m enough for you—”
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“You are. Something about you—I’ve thought about being wrapped inside you. And this . . .”
Fingers slipped inside Marissa, drawing out a series of shivers.
“You’re so strong, oh Linda, so strong. I hope I can please—”
Linda shushed her with a kiss. The faint moonlight brought out sparkles in her eyes. “Everything about you pleases me. I love your spirit, that you’re willing to try and fail and try again. And I like women.”
“I noticed.” To her own ears, her voice had gone soft and adoring. It wasn’t at all the still-in-control-enough-to-laugh quality that would match the lightness in Linda’s voice.
“I like women and you are . . .” Linda made a little noise as her fingers began a tantalizing rhythm against parts of Marissa she’d not realized could be so responsive. “You are all woman.”
“I’m not—I’m not very—” Very what? Marissa felt as if she ought to confess to something, but she wasn’t sure what. She loved the way Linda was touching her and liked the words that she heard with her heart. I’m not very attractive, she wanted to say, and nobody has ever seemed to want to know what you are learning tonight. I’m not very experienced, she could have added, except in my own wild flights of fantasy. “You’re so very strong and I’m not.”
“Is this what you wanted? Is this okay?” Linda kissed her again with a tenderness that took Marissa’s breath away. The flutters became long, sure strokes and abruptly there were no words left in Marissa to answer. She wished the lights were on and she clutched Linda close.
“I’m here,” Linda said, her voice rising. “I’m here . . . yes, hold me tight. Hold on to me. I’m here.”
Tears were inevitable but they felt like nurturing rain on Marissa’s cheeks. Linda’s mouth was at her throat then her nipples.
“That’s right.” Linda made a small cooing sound as she slipped one leg between Marissa’s. “That’s right. I’m here. You like this, don’t you?”
She’d never been touched quite like this, for so long, with such intensity, and she had never felt that the woman touching her was 64
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getting more and more excited with every passing moment. She arched, tensing, and worried that she didn’t know what to do with all the pleasure that was building. Gasping, she thought she said,
“Don’t stop, please.”
“We’re just starting.” Linda moaned and twisted her hand, bringing her fingers firmly against muscles deep inside Marissa.
Someone cried out—that’s me, Marissa thought incredulously.
A ripple of pleasure rolled over her, starting at the places where Linda continued her caresses. She felt something hot and wet on her thigh and realized it was Linda arching against her.
Moaning with release, amazement and joy, with awe, even, Marissa relaxed against Linda for a dozen heartbeats before wrig-gling out from under her. “I want to taste you. I could feel how wet you are.”
Even in the dark it was easy to find what she wanted. She filled her mouth with the sleek, wet folds, then let her tongue swirl and dip. When she felt Linda’s tongue dancing on her she moaned, long and hard. It was the most intimate experience she’d ever shared. She luxuriated in Linda’s wetness, loving the shudders of response and feeling similar responses in her own body as Linda’s mouth explored her completely.
Just as Marissa thought the sensations betw
een her legs would make her forget all about the joys her tongue was experiencing she felt Linda gasp for breath and rest her forehead on Marissa’s thighs.
“That feels so good,” Linda said, panting between words. “I can’t believe how good.”
Marissa moaned her pleasure as Linda’s hand slipped behind her head, pulling her in even closer and tighter. Marissa slipped two fingers alongside her tongue and then held on as Linda surged to meet the first stroke, then the second, and again, and again.
Words were soft and loving as their arms found ways to wrap tight after Marissa pulled up the sheet to cover them. Against her 65
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ear she heard the steadying beat of Linda’s heart and it calmed her own.
“You’re not even a dream I had,” Marissa said softly. “So how can you be real?”
Linda, her breathing slow and even, didn’t answer. In the distance the surf quietly rolled onto the beach and Marissa rolled just as easily into sleep.
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Chapter 5
Sunrise—it was the first sunrise she’d watched since the one on the lifeboat. Marissa couldn’t find names for all the shades of blue and orange, nor for the way the ocean seemed to grow larger and larger until the rim of the sun finally limited the end of the world.
Linda was sleeping, still, and Marissa’s gaze traveled from the simple miracle of the sunrise to the beauty of the woman next to her.
In the early light of dawn, she could study Linda at last, memo-rizing the sweep of her thick, dark eyelashes and the relaxed curve of her full, rose-tinted lips. She slept in a tangle of sheet, one side of her body completely exposed, from the long, tanned, smooth leg, to the deep curve of her hip, to the narrow sweep of her waist.
A bare arm wrapped itself around a pillow, which hid breasts Marissa now knew were firm and rounded. The long arm led her gaze to the broad, muscled shoulders, brushed with the orange of the sunrise.
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Linda was beautiful. Separately and whole, she was more beautiful than Marissa had realized. Baggy shorts and boxy shirts hadn’t hidden her strength and stature but they had disguised an artist’s fantasy of the perfect female form. Sand and sweat had masked the smooth clarity of her skin and after showers Linda had always been at least partially dressed when she emerged from the bathroom.
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