by A. L. Brooks
Megan lay rigid beneath Lena, only a couple of inches of air between their bodies. Her arms were desperate to encircle Lena; her hands were aching to touch her. The sizzle between them was practically visible, and while she had entertained thoughts of when Lena might be ready to take their relationship further, now that it seemed to be happening, she couldn’t seem to move. Lena was in total control in the moment, and it turned Megan on more than she would have thought possible.
“Hi,” Lena whispered against Megan’s mouth.
Megan nodded, words failing her. Lena smiled and kissed her again, longer this time, and firmer. Megan’s lips awoke and moved against Lena’s, and she opened her mouth readily when Lena’s tongue demanded that she did so. Moments later, she groaned as Lena descended fully on top of her, pressing against her from knee to chest. Jesus, she felt so good against Megan—the softness, the weight, the shape of her. Megan lifted her arms, finally remembering how they worked, and wrapped them around Lena’s torso. Lena sighed into Megan’s mouth, and Megan pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.
Lena’s hands moved, one upwards to caress Megan’s neck, one downwards to—oh, God. Lena’s hand wrapped tentatively around Megan’s breast. She was wearing a hoodie over a t-shirt, but even so Lena’s touch, shocking in its unexpectedness, seemed to burn her skin.
“Lena,” she gasped, in between deep strokes of Lena’s tongue inside her mouth.
“Yes?” Lena was nibbling at her neck now, her mouth moving to that danger zone below Megan’s ear. The area Megan had warned her she needed to stay away from if she wanted them to go slow.
“Lena, what—”
“I want this,” Lena whispered, moving so that she could meet Megan’s eyes.
“Are you sure?”
Lena nodded and waited. Megan blinked, her brain catching up to what Lena intended. Then she lunged upwards, devouring Lena’s mouth like she’d wanted to all this time since their first kiss. Lena moaned and squirmed on top of her, her hand going crazy at Megan’s breast.
“Bedroom,” Megan murmured, reaching round to still Lena’s hand. “Please.”
Lena said nothing but moved sideways and worked her way up off Megan’s body. Once she stood by the side of the sofa, she reached out a hand, a shy smile on her face. Megan took the hand gently and let Lena pull her up.
They didn’t speak as they walked to Megan’s room; it was unspoken but both knew a sofa bed was not ideal for lovemaking. As they entered the room, Megan let go of Lena’s hand and walked to the side of the bed. She switched on the lamp on the table beside it.
“Enough?” she asked, and Lena nodded. Lena’s gaze darted round the room, and her hands twisted together in front of her. Megan inhaled slowly. “Second thoughts? It’s okay to change your mind.”
Lena finally met her gaze. “I’m…a little nervous. It’s been a while, and—” she breathed in deeply “—I’m never comfortable getting naked with someone for the first time.”
“Okay,” Megan said softly, walking slowly over to Lena. “Thank you for telling me.” She reached out a hand and stroked a loose strand of hair away from Lena’s face. “We can take this as slow as you want. Nothing actually has to happen tonight, you know. We could just kiss and cuddle in bed.”
Lena let out a soft snort. “No,” she said, and smiled. “Believe me, I want more than that.”
A spike of desire shot through Megan’s body at the words, and she moaned.
Lena’s eyes widened, then she was on the move. Her hands went to Megan’s hoodie, unzipped it and pulled it back from Megan’s shoulders. In a blur of movement, she then removed Megan’s T-shirt and unhooked her bra, her mouth kissing and licking at Megan’s neck the whole time.
Megan stood mute, her skin tingling and breaking out into goose bumps all over at the intensity of Lena’s kisses and touches. So much for slow.
When Lena’s hands cupped her bare breasts and squeezed, she gasped and pulled Lena’s head up for a deep kiss. She reached for the buttons on Lena’s shirt as she kissed her, but after a few moments of fumbling, none of them would open. How the hell did you get her out of this thing? She stopped kissing Lena long enough to look down and see that the tiny buttons were hidden behind an extra layer of fabric. Eventually, she finally got the first two open, but the third defeated her. She groaned in embarrassment.
“Is there any way we can take this off over your head?” she asked, not quite meeting Lena’s eyes. Trust her to not even be able to undress Lena properly.
“I think so,” Lena said, pulling the shirt up. It just about squeezed over her chin and nose, and finally she got it over her head and flung it to the floor.
Megan gazed down at Lena, her full breasts encased in black satin, the tops of them overspilling the cups. So much for her hands to play with. She licked her very dry lips and reached out to stroke the soft skin where the swells of Lena’s breasts met the rest of her chest. Lena’s soft moan only stoked Megan’s desire higher, and suddenly she had to see them. She reached behind Lena, and while Lena returned her own hands to Megan’s breasts, pinching her nipples slightly, her breathing quickening with each touch, Megan took hold of the clasp of Lena’s bra.
Over the years, Megan had divested a number of women of their bras in moments such as this. Up until this point, she’d never met a bra that defeated her. The worst she’d ever done was two goes at one she hadn’t realised was front-fastening until the woman in question sniggered at her fumbling around the back and finally pointed her in the right direction.
But Lena’s bra appeared to have a fastening designed by the people who built Fort Knox. There was something…odd…about the…hooks that didn’t seem to…work…the…same—
“Er, Lena? How…um, how does this open?” She hated asking, but this was getting ridiculous.
Lena’s fingers stilled their ministrations on Megan’s nipples, and her mouth pulled back from Megan’s neck long enough to murmur, “Four hooks. Do them one by one.”
Right. Okay. Megan returned to her task. Within moments she had three of the four hooks unlocked, but the fourth was playing hard to get. She tried a different position with her thumb but forgot how much more give there was in the back strap with three hooks undone, and the next thing she knew, the entire strap snapped back against Lena’s skin with a loud slap.
“Ouch!” Lena gasped, her hands flying to her back.
“Oh, God, Lena I’m so sorry,” Megan said, mortified.
Lena looked up at her, and Megan could see the effort it took her to calm her expression, and smile—although not widely—before saying, “It’s okay. It surprised me, that’s all.”
“I’m sorry,” Megan said. “Maybe you’d better get that last hook.”
Lena did so, and the bra joined the growing pile of clothes at their feet. Megan gazed in unabashed appreciation at the wealth of breast now on display. Lena’s body was exactly what Megan dreamed about: soft, curvy, no bony bits sticking out anywhere. Lena was definitely not a size ten, and Megan couldn’t have been happier as she stared at Lena. She’d never been good at verbalising stuff like that, so she did the next best thing and leaned down to lavish attention on the skin before her. She kissed Lena’s breasts, swirling her lips around each nipple, and revelling in Lena’s gasps and moans above her.
Lena’s hands were at her shoulders, pushing gently, and Megan got the hint. She walked carefully backwards, aware that the bed was somewhere close behind her, and—
With a loud oomph from both of them, Megan collapsed backwards onto the bed with Lena falling on top of her a millisecond later. Their breasts bounced painfully together and they both grimaced, clutching at their own flesh, Lena balanced precariously on Megan’s torso as she did so.
“Oh, God, sorry!” Megan said. “The bed was nearer than I realised.”
Lena smiled, but Megan could see a tightness around her eyes that hadn’t
been there earlier. This was not going well and clearly not helping Lena relax into the moment. Sighing inwardly, Megan wrapped her arms around Lena carefully and pulled her close for a kiss.
“Are they sore?” she asked, trying to inject a playfulness into her tone and nodding down towards Lena’s breasts. “Shall I kiss them better?”
Thankfully, Lena played along. “Mm, I think you should.”
Megan grinned and shimmied her way down the bed a little to bring her in line with the big brown nipples that made her mouth water. Taking one gently between her lips, she kissed it, then laved it with her tongue, feeling it harden as she did so. Lena squirmed and moaned, so Megan repeated the action on the other nipple. “Better?” she murmured.
“Oh, yes,” Lena breathed.
Megan continued her first aid, delighting in the movements Lena’s body made in response and the sounds that escaped her throat. She moved her hands down to Lena’s trousers, located the side-fastening zip, and—thankfully—eased it down without a hitch. Lena leaned on one arm to help Megan push the trousers over her hips, and she was aware of Lena kicking them off when they reached her ankles. As Lena lay back down on top of Megan, the damp warmth between Lena’s legs heated the skin of her thigh, and her breath hitched.
“Oh, Lena,” she whispered, her hand already on the move, her fingers seeking the source of that warmth, that wetness. Her hand swept over the swell of Lena’s belly, and she felt her pull it in as she passed, and wondered why Lena felt the need. Then her thoughts focused elsewhere as she brushed her fingertips over the cotton of Lena’s underwear.
Lena groaned loudly, pushing her hips further into the touch.
“Yes?” Megan said, stroking softly back and forth, feeling Lena’s clit swelling beneath the cloth as she did so.
“Um, yes, but…” Lena’s voice was quiet and small.
“What?” Megan said, trying to meet Lena’s eyes, but Lena wouldn’t let her.
“Um, well, I’m…I’m still wearing my socks. Could I… Please can we move so I can take them off?”
Megan smiled. “Of course.” She removed her hand from between Lena’s legs and stayed motionless while Lena sat up, turned away, and peeled off her socks.
“Sorry,” Lena mumbled.
“What for?”
Lena waved a vague hand. “For interrupting…things.” She looked towards the ceiling, then back over her shoulder at Megan who was still sprawled on the bed beside her. “It’s not exactly romantic, is it? Stopping to take your socks off in the middle of things.”
Megan chuckled and reached for Lena. When Lena didn’t move, Megan sat up. “Lena, it’s fine. Come on, it’s funny. And sex is allowed to be fun, okay?” Somehow, deep down, looking at Lena right now, Megan knew Lena had never been told that, never experienced it. Had Lena always expected everything to be perfect? Like movie sex, or romantic book sex? Or had her partners given her that expectation?
“Sorry,” Lena said again, looking forlorn, and she crossed her arms protectively over her breasts. Megan wasn’t stupid; everything about Lena’s posture and voice told her Lena was having major second thoughts.
Carefully, Megan extended one arm and placed a hand on Lena’s warm back. She bit back a moan at the feel of that soft skin beneath her fingers. “Do you want to stop?”
“Yes. No.” Lena shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” Megan whispered in return. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Was it because I was clumsy again?”
“No!” Lena said quickly. “Well, maybe a little bit. Sorry, it’s not your fault, it really isn’t.” She inhaled deeply and finally turned to look at Megan. “This is mostly about me. About how rubbish I am at all this.”
Before Megan could stop her, Lena stood, then bent down to gather her clothes, which she clutched against her naked torso.
“I’m really sorry, Megan. I think I need a bit more time.”
There was nothing Megan could say. She couldn’t—wouldn’t want to—force Lena to stay, to try to pick up where they left off. It was clear Lena didn’t even want to talk about it right now, and forcing her into that wouldn’t solve anything either. So Megan did the only thing she could. She smiled as genuinely as possible, gave Lena a quick squeeze of her hand, and watched her walk out of the room.
Megan flopped back on the bed, arms above her head, her bare torso cooling rapidly now that she was alone in the room. She gazed up at the ceiling, tracking back through every action from the kissing on the sofa onwards that had led them to this point. While Megan had found their stumbling and fumbling amusing, and endearing, clearly Lena had not.
Dorothy’s words, after their first date ended badly, came back to her. “Lena doesn’t do well with embarrassment.”
Was that what it was this time too? Embarrassment over all the silly things that had gone wrong as they got naked? Even though Megan didn’t particularly think they were wrong, as such. Just funny, and—she’d thought—ways that helped ease the nerves in what could have been a tense situation. They’d seemed to have the opposite effect on Lena.
Megan sighed. If Lena wanted perfect sex every time, they were in a heap of trouble.
Chapter 26
Lena tried hard to concentrate on her spreadsheet but failed dismally. Memories of the night before, and the cringe-inducing events that had led to her fleeing Megan’s room, wouldn’t let her go. She stood up from her desk and walked with determination to the kitchen to make some tea. Anything to try to distract herself. But, of course, as she waited for the kettle to boil, her mind returned to the scene of last night’s crime.
She had wanted Megan so much, from the minute she got home. Seeing her so happy to see Lena, feeling so flushed herself with the joy of the weekend, and how good it felt to come home to Megan—all of it had triggered something in her that had lain dormant for a long time. Actual desire. Not the vague, fantasy-type desire that reading her books engendered, desire for an as-yet faceless woman who would sweep Lena off her feet and ride off into the sunset with her. No, actual, real desire for a real, living woman who looked at Lena in ways that made her melt.
So what had gone so wrong in the bedroom? Where had that desire gone? Because it had, snuffed out like a candle once she’d realised she was still wearing her socks while Megan stroked between her legs. She squirmed slightly as her clit quietly reminded her how wonderful those touches had been.
She poured the hot water onto the tea bag and stirred slowly. Megan’s touches had been wonderful. Feeling Megan’s skin against her own, hearing the sounds she made as they moved together, had heated Lena’s blood and had her aching for more. And yet…the bra snapping, and the bumping into each other on the bed, had immediately stirred up embarrassment. Megan staring at her when she was naked had been hard to take too; Lena hadn’t been able to tell if Megan found her body exciting or disappointing. She’d almost squirmed under the attention, her instinct to flee building in strength by the second, but then Megan had touched her and she’d thought she’d be okay.
However, as hard as Lena had tried to tamp it down, the sock incident had exacerbated her stress, and suddenly her discomfort was all she had been able to focus on. Which she knew now was stupid—Megan hadn’t laughed at her, nor had Megan been overcome with embarrassment. She’d even tried to explain to Lena how it was just fun, and sex was allowed to be fun. But it was as if a wall came down, somewhere inside Lena, and Megan’s words couldn’t get through it.
Maybe she should have stayed. Maybe she should have let Megan touch her again, see if they could rekindle what had started on the sofa. She closed her eyes, remembering being pressed against Megan. Oh, how she wanted to feel that again. She truly did.
She sighed. This was all down to her, she knew that. Megan wouldn’t try to force anything. If Lena wanted this, she needed to go after it. And she needed to find a way to stop her old fear o
f embarrassment ruining everything.
A new fear gripped her and churned her stomach. What if Megan had had enough? What if Lena’s issues were too much for her to think she was worth it? They hadn’t crossed paths at all earlier that morning—Megan was on a late start, and even though she could have got up around the same time as Lena, to say hi, as she often had in the past few weeks they’d been dating, she hadn’t done so today. Did that mean she didn’t want to see Lena? Or was she trying to be nice and give Lena some space?
Lena wrung her hands and paced the small kitchen. She was caught between a rock and a hard place. She needed time to sort herself out, to be able to commit to a physical relationship with the woman she was attracted to. More than attracted to—Lena knew she was falling for Megan. Maybe that was part of her problem; fear of falling. And, while dealing with all of that, she had to do so in a way that meant Megan didn’t give up on her.
She stopped pacing and leaned against the counter. This was all so…messy. And Lena didn’t do mess. What happened to her neat, ordered little life? The life she’d had before that stupid roof caved in and literally turned her world upside down?
That boring life, a little voice—sounding suspiciously like Madhu—said in the back of her mind. That boring, lonely, predictable life that had you friendless, loveless, and dreaming of more.
I know, Lena thought, but it was safe.
When she got home that night, Megan had left her a note, and as Lena read the words, relief flooded through her.
Hi Lena. I hope you had a good day. Sorry we won’t see each other tonight, I’m pretty sure I’ll be back after you’ve gone to bed. But maybe tomorrow evening? Could we have dinner together? xx