“Maybe. I don’t do risky behavior anymore for exactly that reason—any kind of risky behavior. I don’t go to parties, I don’t pick up strangers. I drink modestly now, but no drugs stronger than aspirin. I was upset with myself for bringing you to my room for a one-night stand, even though I was—am—incredibly attracted to you.”
“But I’m not a druggie, surely you realized that after we began spending time together. I wasn’t going to pull you into that world.” Dez’s reasons for dumping her still weren’t making a lot of sense.
“I did realize that. I could see that you were a woman of substance, but I was afraid of starting this risky behavior again, doing one-night stands, that kind of thing. It’s like when a recovering drug addict takes a pain pill. Just one little itty-bitty pain pill. It’s not like it’s coke or heroin, right? So how bad can one little pill be? It isn’t bad, except it can start you down a road that you don’t want to visit again. With you, at first, I was afraid of that. And then . . .”
“And then the fear became something else?”
“Yes. I realized how lovely you are, Jordan. How special you are, how much I wanted to be with you.” Her eyes began to moisten and her voice grew thick with emotion. “We were having so much fun, but we could really talk too. I really connected with you. Like no one I’d ever connected with before. I feel like I’ve known you all my life.”
Jordan couldn’t keep from smiling. So Dez had felt all those things too. She wanted to dance a little jig.
“And then I got scared again,” Dez continued. “Scared you’d find out about my past or figure it out for yourself—you were already asking a lot of questions and I didn’t want to lie to you. I was afraid once you knew the truth about me, you’d dump me.”
“So you did the old preemptive strike thing. Dump me before I dump you.” It was a tactic Jordan had used many times herself. Better to hurt someone early on, before it hurt them too much. Or before they hurt you. But Dez was wrong. Jordan wouldn’t have hurt her.
“Yes.”
“Oh, Dez. Don’t you know that I’m in love with you? Don’t you know that nothing about your past would ever scare me away? Don’t you know you can trust me more than that? Jesus, I want to know every little thing about you.”
Dez began to sob—real sobs that came from deep inside. Her body shook, and Jordan clasped her in a hug. She rocked her gently. “It’s okay, honey. I’m here and I’m not going away.”
“I don’t deserve it,” Dez mumbled into her shoulder. “I don’t deserve you and I don’t deserve another chance.”
If Jordan’s love for Dez could grow more, it did now. Exponentially. “Promise me you won’t shut me out again, okay? Please?”
“I won’t, I promise.”
Jordan smiled through tears she hadn’t realized were in her eyes. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Dez pulled her head up, nuzzled Jordan’s neck. “Tonight . . . will you just hold me?”
Jordan laughed. “I thought you were going to ask me to do something kinky, or at least to make love to you all night long.”
“Oh, there’ll be time for that,” she purred. “Later.”
“Good because I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Amanda
The party was in full throttle, the guests dancing wildly to Lady Gaga. Shannon had already shed her sexy garter belt—Dani having removed it with her teeth in front of a cheering crowd that raucously urged her to go further and further. The event was cheesey and campy but worth a good laugh. Unsurprisingly, the music and alcohol were quickly stripping away everyone’s sense of decorum. Heather was dancing dirty with the burly young bartender. Dani must have thought she’d suddenly transformed into a break dancer, the way she was spinning on her back on the floor like a top. Shannon stood over her, giving her a little show beneath her dress that bordered on obscene. The guy who’d won the contest for Shannon’s garter belt had it around his neck like a choker and he was dancing like a 1980s robot. Jesus, I hope nobody gets hurt tonight!
Amanda’s wedding had not been a public celebration like this, just a quick trip to city hall with their two best friends, then a nice dinner out. She’d never had dreams of a fancy wedding, thank goodness, because she could never afford one anyway. But she did desire something a little more public, a little more celebratory than her lame excuse for a wedding with Jennifer. If there ever was a next time for her, she would do things differently. She would do everything differently!
Claire materialized by her side. “Is there something in that champagne fountain I should have tested at a lab?”
“Yes, but I doubt you’d find anything. It’s that crazy phenomenon unique to Vegas.”
“Ah! The old what-happens-in-Vegas-stays-in-Vegas. I’ve been warned about that.”
“Yes. A license to make a fool of yourself.” It was nice to share a laugh with Claire again. The tension between them since that kiss had been driving her nuts. The kiss—she had not been able to stop thinking about it. She only wished Claire did not regret it, but that was a wish that was not going to be fulfilled. Claire obviously did regret it. Very much. “Claire? Have I been making a fool of myself with you this week?”
Clearly surprised by the question, Claire verbally fumbled for a moment. “No. No, you haven’t.” She sighed quietly, but if she was frustrated, she didn’t let it show. “I’ve been . . . confused this week. I don’t know what to think, what to do. One minute I want to run away and ignore all of this, and the next . . .” She looked helplessly at Amanda.
The music switched to a slow song. Amanda grasped Claire’s hand, giving her no option but to follow her out to the dance floor. If they were going to have a heart-to-heart, at least they could dance at the same time, because if Amanda were honest with herself, she wanted, needed to touch Claire right now. Words alone were not enough.
They danced to an Anita Baker song, neither speaking. Amanda inhaled the scent that was Claire, brushed her cheek against Claire’s soft skin, felt the wisps of Claire’s short hair against her cheek. She tingled where Claire’s hand perched at the small of her back, and she considered how different her feelings were for Claire than they’d been for Jennifer. With her ex, it had strictly been a chemical reaction—lust and combustible feelings that resulted in a lot of sex or fighting, and not much companionship in between. But this! This was a perfect balance of companionship, friendship, sexual and physical intensity—an intimate connection that seemed to transcend all boundaries. When she was with Claire, the past, present and future all collided into the same spectrum. It was as though Claire had always been a part of her life, always with her, to the point where she would sometimes refer to something in her life from years ago as if Claire already knew, and she’d have to stop herself and fill in the blanks for Claire. It was a strange and yet totally familiar sensation. Instantly she understood Dani and Shannon’s wedding vows about no beginning and no end, because that was exactly how it felt with Claire.
“I want us to figure this out,” Amanda whispered, near tears. She was not above begging. “You’re too important to me, and I don’t want to let you go. Please.”
Claire pulled back enough to look into her eyes. “You’re important to me too. I’m just . . . I’m all over the map with my feelings, and it’s not like me. I always know exactly what I’m feeling. I always own my feelings, even when it’s sadness or grief or futility. But this week, with you, it’s like I don’t recognize myself anymore. I’m a different person.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Claire considered for a long moment. “No. It’s not a bad thing. I’ve felt happier this week than I’ve felt in years. Younger, lighter, freer somehow. Like a weight’s been lifted.”
“Okay, that’s good then, right?”
“Except it scares the hell out of me.”
“Why, because these feelings are so new to you?”
“Not r
eally. It scares me because you are . . . you.”
“Huh?”
“Shannon’s niece. And the age difference, and—”
“Okay, wait. All I’m hearing are negatives. And frankly I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you treating me like I’m some kind of pox on your life, treating me like I’m a kid, like I’m a different species than you. I am not trying to wreck your life, Claire Cooper.”
Claire stared at her in shock, wordless, as the song segued into Lady Antebellum’s “Need You Now.”
“I’m a woman, Claire. Like you. Everything else is just a stupid excuse.”
Claire had the wisdom to keep quiet and not dispute her. They danced to the remainder of the song in silence—not an angry silence; more like a respectful truce.
“Okay,” Claire finally said after the song ended. The music grew loud again and she yelled over the noise, “You want to talk about it all, then okay, let’s talk.”
Finally, Amanda thought, twisting her mouth into a wry smile. “I think that’s the first thing you’ve said in the last couple of days that I agree with.”
Shannon stepped up to them before they could make their escape. “Oh no, you two, you’re not going anywhere yet. I’m about to toss my bouquet.” She smiled wickedly at Amanda, as if dangling something covetous. “Got your catching mitt with you?”
Amanda frowned. “If catching that thing means I’m the next to get married, no thanks. Been there, done that, don’t need to do it again.” It was the first time she’d ever joked about her failed marriage, and it felt kind of good.
“When did you become such a cynic? You were always my sweet little sunny Amanda, innocent to the world. Damn, I miss her.”
Had she really been sweet and sunny and innocent? Years ago maybe, but she had not been the mythical creature her aunt was making her out to be, at least not for many years. She stole a glance at Claire and made a face as if to say, Family can be such a pain in the ass sometimes.
Obediently, Amanda and Claire joined the small throng of women clustered behind Shannon, waiting like a pool of sharks to be fed. Well, they could have the bouquet and the stupid symbolic meaning that went with it. If she ever got married again, and it was a big if at this point, things were going to be a lot different. She would not rush into anything again. A long courtship, like Dani’s and Shannon’s, was exactly the right way to go about it. That and picking the right person next time!
She tried to hide behind Claire a little, but since they were the tallest, there wasn’t much hiding to be had. The bouquet breezed through the air, smacked her on the shoulder and dropped at her feet. She stood looking at it like it was a snake that might bite her, until the others told her it was hers and that she had to pick it up. She shot an accusing glare at her aunt, who only smiled victoriously.
“All right,” Claire said firmly. “How about a drink in the bar so we can talk?”
“How about a drink in my room where we can talk privately?”
Claire didn’t look very happy about the suggestion but she relented with a short nod.
A few minutes later in her room, Amanda poured them each a glass of wine. They sat respectfully on the sofa, separated by at least of foot of precious real estate. Amanda didn’t want to spook Claire. She could and would behave herself, even though she wanted to feel Claire’s lips on hers again, feel Claire’s mouth greedily pressing against hers. She couldn’t help but remember the last time they were together on this couch, kissing like a couple of teenagers who wanted more but didn’t dare. She would love to move onto Claire’s lap, pull her face to hers, kiss her madly, and run her hands along those strong shoulders. But she didn’t dare.
“So,” Amanda began, growing bolder. “Tell me this. When we’re together, does it feel to you like our age difference is some huge gulf between us? That we can’t relate to one another?”
“No. But I know that you’re so much younger, that you haven’t had the same experiences—”
“I asked how you felt, not what you know.”
Claire nodded to acknowledge the point.
“How do you feel when we spend time together?”
The worried frown between Claire’s eyes flattened and disappeared. Her face softened. Her eyes too, and it told Amanda all she needed to know. Claire’s spontaneous smile lifted Amanda’s heart. “Like the happiest woman in the world.”
“I feel the same way too,” Amanda added quietly, deciding to take a chance. “With you, I feel like I’m with the woman I’m meant to be with.” She swallowed. “And that’s never happened to me before.”
Claire grew nervous but she didn’t try to talk Amanda out of her feelings, thankfully. “There’s Shannon,” she said, but the warning sounded lame. She was weakening.
“No. No one else belongs here with us. This is about you and me and no one else.”
“Okay. You’re right.”
Amanda slid closer and reached for Claire’s hand. “For once, I want you to feel and not think.”
Claire’s eyes fluttered shut. Amanda moved closer still, so that her shoulder touched Claire’s. The contact sent a noticeable shiver through Claire—Amanda could feel it. She put her mouth to Claire’s ear, brushed the lobe with her lips, and whispered, “I want to touch you. So much. Everywhere. All night long. I want you, Claire. Goddamnit, I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone before. And if it doesn’t feel right, you can stop it anytime you want. But I don’t want you to think about anything. Okay? Just let me do the things I so want to do.”
Claire nodded. She seemed paralyzed but in a pleasurable way. Her eyes remained closed as Amanda’s lips moved to hers. She kissed her softly, lengthened the kiss, and Claire responded instantly. Her arms slipped around Amanda, pulling her close, and soon they were both breathing hard, both pressing their mouths and bodies hard into one another, as if by doing so they could become one.
“Make love to me, Claire. Make love to me right now.” It was as though she’d never spoken words more important in her life. Making love with Claire was all that mattered now, all she needed—the culmination of her life to this point.
Claire answered with her actions. She stood, held her hand out, and guided Amanda to the king-sized bed. Amanda sat on it and Claire knelt at her feet. Softly Claire began kissing her throat, her chest, the point at her cleavage where the dress ended. Claire inhaled her, tightened her hands at her waist. Amanda was happy they didn’t speak; she wanted them both to feel one another with every part of their bodies. The anticipation of Claire inside her made her squeeze her legs together. Yes! She wanted Claire inside her, knew it would feel like a bird coming home to nest. Emotionally, Claire already resided in her, and now she needed her physically inside her to consummate their relationship—to close the circle.
No beginning and no end.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Claire
Feeling and not thinking wasn’t so tough after all. Amanda helped make it that way. She made it so easy to let her senses take over, and God, did it feel good! The creamy satin of her dress as she slowly slipped it from her body, the lightly perfumed scent of her skin with its buttery softness that age had not yet encroached upon. Claire’s lips, as they caressed her shoulders, felt the warmth of her desire. The pulse at her throat was like a tiny life of its own in Claire’s mouth. The urgent moan that escaped Amanda’s mouth quickened Claire’s pace, like a starter’s pistol signaling the beginning of a race.
Making love was absolutely the most perfect thing to do right now, no question. She was anxious to suck Amanda’s nipples, to push her mouth between Amanda’s legs and make her come, to feel Amanda’s fingers bring her own desire to fruition. She wanted to lie on top of Amanda, press her nakedness against Amanda’s, pulsate against her, unite their skin, their breasts, mingle the liquid between their legs. But she also wanted to go slow, to stretch it out all night, to taste and touch every part of Amanda until all those tastes and touches became second nature to her—a part of her.
She shed her tuxedo jacket, let Amanda pull her tie loose and toss it to the floor. She enclosed her fingers over Amanda’s as they methodically released each button of her shirt.
Shirt, bra, pants, underwear in a pile on the floor, they lay on the bed together, touching softly, exploring patiently. Claire closed her eyes, melted an inch at a time with every kiss Amanda planted on her neck, shoulders, chest. No. She needed to take Amanda first, to erase the strands of thoughts and memories of Ann that were trying to edge into her consciousness. She needed to own this beauty beside her if only for a few moments—to consume and assimilate, absorb and consolidate. Become one with her.
She moved onto Amanda, smiled into her eyes, kissed her lips ever so gently. Her fingers found a breast, circled the hardening nipple, thumbed it to a stiffer peak. Amanda moaned into her mouth, arched against her. Claire dipped her head, sucked on that nipple and then the other as Amanda undulated rhythmically beneath her. Claire’s mouth continued to work Amanda’s nipples until the movements beneath her became more frenzied and irregular. Amanda’s moans quickly grew more insistent.
“Oh, God, I’m going to come just from this. Oh my God—” She bucked against Claire and cried out. Her body trembled and Claire tightened her hold on her until she stilled.
“Oh, God,” Amanda said in astonishment, still gasping for breath. “I can’t believe that happened, just from my breasts. That’s never happened before.”
Claire nuzzled her neck. “I can’t wait to see how else I can make you come.”
“Oh, I can’t wait either.” Amanda’s eyes twinkled. “And I’m more than up to the challenge.”
“Be careful you don’t bite off more than you can chew.”
“Oh, I plan on doing some biting. And some chewing!”
Claire stifled her with more kisses, pressed her body into her. Amanda felt slender beneath her, but strong. Very strong. She was sure the younger woman would be able to take anything she could dish out and then some. If anything, it would be Claire biting off more than she could chew.
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