The television was forgotten as we fell into a quiet, warm space where touching seemed like the best thing in the world. It was sweet, tender but always edged in ripples of earthy desire. I caressed her naked flesh, feeling more and more of her as I unbuttoned her top. I buried my face in her hair, kissing her neck. I cupped her breast over her bra, insinuating my leg between hers, then pulling her upper leg over mine, opening her up.
I still wasn't reading her mind, but I did reach out some feelers to see if she was liking this, and she was. Very much.
I ran my tongue the length of her neck. She moaned and rolled onto her back.
Leaning on one elbow, I brushed her hair off her face. "I'm going to go get us some drinks. Why don't you get undressed and slide under the covers?"
"What?" I could feel her heart speed up as a surge of adrenaline hit her system.
"I was thinking you could use a full body massage. I give good ones."
"Oh." Our gazes tangled and she knew what I meant, and I knew she knew.
When I returned I could sense she was anxious and untrusting, but nude nonetheless. In my bed. Under my blankies. I put our drinks where we could both reach them. I lit a candle with my mind, and flew my massage oil into my hand.
She wasn't watching me. I poured the oil into my hands, warming it before touching her skin. I used lots of oil as I started with her shoulders, working the tense muscles there. I ran my hands down her back, then focused on the tight areas.
I worked and kneaded her back, her arms, her shoulders... her hands and fingers... I moved the sheets so they only covered her butt, and I massaged her feet, her shins and thighs, caressing her flesh and letting her know by my touch how much I loved her.
I knew she was getting wet, turned on, as I worked her thighs. But she was too embarrassed to stop me. So I stopped myself.
I pulled the sheet up to cover her completely again, and said, "Roll over."
We snuggled, not saying much. I had never been much of a snuggler, but the feeling of her in my arms was heaven after so many years of searching.
We eventually fell asleep.
When I woke the next morning she was wrapped around me, her head resting on my shoulder, her leg tossed across mine in a possessive manner. God, her hair smelled wonderful. She smelled wonderful. Simply intoxicating.
I didn't want to leave her, but I was sure she'd freak if she woke to find me caressing her so-soft, warm, naked flesh. Also, I was reckoning she might enjoy a nice breakfast—maybe enough to remain in my bed for a while. Naked.
When I brought in breakfast (pancakes, eggs, sausage patties, toast and Kona coffee), Sydney was awake. The sheet was draped almost artistically across her nude form. I put the tray in front of her, and she tucked in. I sat next to her, devouring my own plate of chow.
The way she ate was a wicked turn on. She feasted, she ravaged, she devoured.
"Glad you enjoyed," I said, moving the tray to the side when we were done.
I had a sudden flash of me touching her, and it took me a moment to realize it wasn't my thought—Sydney was projecting her thoughts so completely that without even trying I was reading her mind—and she wanted me to touch her.
I laid a hand on her cheek, leaned forward and kissed her. As my tongue entered her mouth, my hand dropped to her shoulder, caressing her naked flesh. I slowly pushed the blanket down so I could cup her full breast.
She gasped and arched into my hand, her nipple hardening. She squirmed and I crawled on top of her, moving the blankets so they covered only the apex between her legs.
I caught a brief image of her fantasizing about sitting in front of me, naked, with her legs spread wide. She wanted to masturbate for me, and just thinking about it turned her on.
Dear god, that was... this was... she was...
A dream come true.
Our tongues tangoed as I learned her again, caressing her breasts, squeezing her nipples, making her groan and squirm. I nibbled her earlobe and then tasted her down to her breasts until I bit her nipples, taking them each in turn as she pushed up into me, struggling under me.
I insinuated myself between her legs, forcing them open farther, until I finally yanked the covers away so she was naked beneath me. At that moment her mind, her fantasies, became naked to me, too.
She'd read things in books, things that scared her but also excited her. Especially when she thought about them in conjunction with me. She wanted to feel me inside her. She was projecting her thoughts so loudly I couldn't help but hear them.
I rolled to the side, letting her curl her body around me and then climb on top. We kissed, intensely, as I enjoyed the warmth of her body on top of mine, feeling her everywhere. She took my hand and placed it between her legs, so I felt how wet she was.
She gasped.
I looked into her eyes as I wrapped my arms around her. "I love having you naked in my arms."
She buried her face in my neck. "Ty, just touch me. Please. I've been wet since you got me naked last night." She sat back in my lap so we could look at each other.
My hands were everywhere. I let my tongue and lips wander— down her neck, over her shoulders and collarbone, between her breasts. I settled her on her back and I worked down... Worshiping her breasts, sucking her nipples, cupping the warm weight of them... pulling her hips up into me, against me, while I pushed down against her...
I loved that there was plenty of light here, in the day, so I could study every inch of her body. She was a natural blonde.
I reached down and touched her there. Felt her wetness. Enjoyed the way my fingers glided through her slickness until they slid up into her. Inside of her.
She bucked against me when that happened. Squirmed and jerked and forced my fingers into her more deeply.
Once they were there, I left them there.
She opened her legs wider.
I caressed inside her while I tasted her mouth, neck and breasts. "I love you. I've always loved you."
She pushed against me, riding my fingers, her eyes closed.
"Look at me, look at me!" I insisted, wanting to feel that deep connection.
She opened her eyes and came while we stared into each other.
Then I reached over, lubed my hand, and continued my magic as I did what she had been thinking about since yesterday. Gently, carefully, I slipped my whole hand into her.
"Oh yes!" she screamed.
She was naked in my bed, giving herself to me. She didn't realize I'd been stalking her for eons, for more years than either of us could conceive.
She was mine.
Chapter 8
I was holding Sydney's sweat-dampened body, lightly caressing her while she trembled with the aftermath of the many orgasms she'd just experienced. The doorbell rang and I ignored it. I had no need for Jehovah's Witnesses or the cross-eyed Midwest version of such. Nobody knew I lived here, so those were the only options as to whom could be calling.
But when it rang again, and then again, I let my brain wander down to identify the pest. As soon as I did, I jumped from Syd, threw on jeans and a shirt, and charged downstairs.
After all, this woman wouldn't go away. Not yet. Not soon. Not now. Not after she'd obviously come so far to see me.
I'd actually studied acting somewhat—done workshops and classes and gone to university and everything, so why I didn't do better answering Michele's knock is anyone's guess. "What are you doing here?" I said. I didn't even attempt subterfuge. Or even contemplate disguising that I knew who it was before I opened the door.
"I was worried about you. You weren't returning—or even taking—my calls, and I kept having horrible dreams of bad things happening to you." She took my hands in hers as she stepped into my home. "I was worried."
Syd came down wearing only my bathrobe. "Uh, Ty? What's going on?"
I saw her look from me to Michele and saw that moment of recognition when she realized who Michele was.
I ste
pped from Michele and said, "Syd, this is Micky—Micky, this is Syd, my neighbor."
"Pleasure to meet you," Michele said, tilting her head and smiling just so.
"Oh my goodness," Syd said. " 'Micky?' Michele Anne Browning? Ty..."
I took Syd's hand in mine and looked back at Micky. "Syd's my neighbor. And maybe more."
"And you've always said your life wasn't interesting," Michele said.
Syd turned bright red and pulled the robe more tightly about her lithe body. "Ty, you could've warned me!" She ran up the stairs.
The silence that fell could not have been more awkward. I struggled for anything to say. "You have a bag with you. I don't suppose you were bringing that with you to my door wondering about the nearest hotel?"
"This trip was so last minute, I didn't have time to make reservations or anything, so I was hoping I could crash with you the few nights I was in town."
"And you got here from the airport... on your magic carpet?"
"I grabbed a taxi."
"And what were you gonna do if I wasn't here?"
"That wasn't in the game plan. Do you think I ever plan for failure? I'm an actress, and forward optimism is the thing."
"Micky, I know you have to have fucked a lot of auditions, and lost a bunch of jobs before you got this one, so you can't feed me that crap."
"Yes, yes, and I guess I would've done what I did before—suck it up and keep moving. Now, here, I guess that would've been to either camp out on your property till you returned, or else grab a cab to a hotel. Since there's no cabs here, I would have either been screwed, or worked my improv."
I knew she was telling me the truth, and I was only being hostile because I was embarrassed. "Let me take your bag up to the guest room and get you settled, then you can explain exactly what you're doing here."
"Nice place you have here," Michele said, following me up the stairs. "Why don't you give me the tour?"
"Y'know me too well. I always forget the little hostessy details like that." I led her to the guest room. "Fortunately, I'm pretty much moved in so I'm not too embarrassed by the joint."
"Uh, Ty," Sydney said, coming into the room, fully attired now. "I'm just gonna go home now, seeing as you're all busy with your friend..."
"Oh, Syd," I slipped an arm around her waist. "Why don't we make this official? Sydney Pierce, meet Michele Anne Browning. Michele."
"Ty said that was you on the phone the other day, but I thought maybe she was just trying to impress me," Sydney said.
"You two seem to have gotten to know each other quite well in a short time," Michele said.
"I think I'm just going to rush on home now," Sydney said. "And lock myself in a room to dwell in my own embarrassment and let you two catch up."
"I'm sorry," Michele said with a smile as she touched Syd's arm lightly. "I'm just harassing you. Ty here's a real catch, so I'm not surprised you jumped on the chance, though there's gonna be a lot of girls back home who'll be awfully disappointed."
Sydney blanched. "Ty, give me a call later, okay?"
"Hey," I said, "why don't you come on over later for dinner? I'll grill something up for the three of us. Say, about six?"
"I'm just going to take a moment to unpack," Michele said.
"Why don't I walk you out?" I said to Sydney, leading her downstairs while Michele remained in her room.
"I... I've enjoyed spending time with you," Sydney said.
"Me too. I just can't understand why Michele suddenly decided she had to come visit. We're friends, but not bestest or nothing like that."
"Well, it looks like maybe she's got something in particular on her mind."
I frowned, unsure of what she meant.
"I think she likes you, Ty."
"Naw, she's not like that."
"Neither was I." She wrapped her arms loosely around my waist. "Now, I know you've made jokes about all the Hollywood gossip and stuff, but seriously, you've got to wonder just what someone like her has to gain by coming all this way to see you. She's got to want something from you."
"I think she's just concerned. I mean, she was worried about me even before I moved out here." I had thought I would spend the next few days figuring out how Syd and I fit, and reflecting on everything I had found in this house. I wanted life to get simple again, for a while at least, before I went on to the next step. As it was, it was getting kinda scary.
Syd ran her hand over my cheek and leaned in to kiss me. "Just watch out, okay? I have a bad feeling about this."
"No worries," I said, kissing her. "I'll see you at six, baby."
"So you two have known each other for how long?" Sydney asked Michele.
"Ever since the pilot," Michele said. "How long have you been living here, anyway?"
"Just about six months now. You ever meet Ty's parents?"
"Just in passing. You always live in Michigan?"
"Born and raised. You a native Californian?"
"Grew up in San Diego. So what do you do out here?"
"Funny, I never thought of here as 'out here' before."
It was like listening to a ping-pong match, with everything moving so quickly I barely had time to think about what was going on. I concentrated on my grill, the chicken, steak and my glass of wine.
"Well, both Ty and I come from the West Coast," Michele said.
"But still, we're all here now," Sydney said.
"Fine. So what is it you do here?"
"Is that a nice way of asking how I pay the bills?"
"Yes."
"I'm in advertising. So how'd you pull all this time off work?"
"We just finished filming the season finale, and I have a bit of time before I start on my break project."
"And you came here why, exactly? I'm still not quite clear on that. I mean, it doesn't seem as if you two were best friends before Ty moved here."
"I'm hoping to talk Ty into coming out to help me on my break project. I've yet to find a double as talented as she. Plus, she's fun to work with and gets everything done perfectly. She's By-the-Book Black for a reason."
"So how long are you in town for?"
"We don't start filming till a week Monday."
"And you want to spend all your time off here, in Michigan?"
I missed Michele's response because this was getting wicked intense. I was waiting for smoke to start pouring out of their ears, and could only wonder what sort of challenge had erupted between them during the few minutes they were downstairs selecting a few bottles of wine to go with dinner.
Part of me wanted to ask Michele to leave, since she had come here uninvited and Sydney seemed to be my girlfriend now. But then again, I'd known Michele longer, and I did like her, and she could either help or hinder me with getting further work—if I wanted more work. Of course, I was still wondering why Michele had come visiting, and if she had been trying to seduce me back in California, and maybe Sydney was jealous and why the hell Michele lied about how well she'd known my parents? And when we first worked together?
I just wanted to scream because nothing was making any
sense—nothing was adding up to anything that meant anything at all, and dear sweet Hecate, I could only hope that it hadn't all fallen into the dark, evil realm of calculus, with all its imaginary numbers and equations that proved two-plus-two did not equal four.
"I'm not hiding anything—they did work on the show, I did meet them, but it's not like I was a regular visitor to their house or anything. We all knew each other in passing. It's Ty that I worked with regularly," Michele was saying.
I could not figure out why they were back to that or why Michele was so adamantly denying things she had said to me before I left California.
"Then why did several publications quote you talking about how they were good people and that you'll miss them?"
"What?" Michele whispered. I'm guessing she was kinda stunned, 'cause that's exactly what I was.
"
I Googled you when you two were off grocery shopping." Sydney shrugged. "I was a bit jealous, and worried. I wanted to find out more about the relationship you had. And I've got to say, it didn't seem as if you two were all that close—'specially not so much that you'd come all the way out here on the spur of the moment just because she didn't return a couple of phone calls. I have to say, it makes me wonder what it is you're doing out here."
I reached out with my mind to gently caress each of theirs—not to calm or affect them in any way, but instead to figure out what was going on. Then I thought about what I was doing and who these women were, and paused.
"We may not have been going-out-to-the-bar-to-get-drunk-once-a-week buddies, or 'Gee, we just met, but let's go screw like bunnies' types, but we've known each other more than a few days," Michele said.
I wasn't going to totally violate their minds, or make them do anything they didn't want to—I was just gonna figure out what the hell was going on. And I needed to do this because of how everything was heating up.
"We didn't just meet," Sydney said to Michele. She was concerned for and worried about me, and worried Michele had some nefarious reason for being here. The only idea she could formulate about it was that Michele wanted to use me. I could understand her reasoning—Michele didn't seem the type to risk everything, including her career, especially when she was starting to maybe make it big, for a lesbian relationship.
"—and that means something to me," Michele said. "I was concerned about her, and I had the time and means to come visit, so I did. But as far as I'm concerned, I still don't quite understand why you decided to research me so thoroughly." I'm guessing Michele suddenly realized she had my close regard, because she turned to me with a questioning look, as if wondering why I was staring at her. See, the thing was, I couldn't read her mind—not at all.
"Dinner's almost ready," I said, glancing at the food and pulling off the finished steaks. The corn still needed a bit, but no way was I waiting for it, so I sent a spark of energy flying toward each ear to finish it off so we could eat and—please, god!—finish off whatever the flip was going on that was so evil between these two women.
Bell, Book and Dyke - New Exploits of Magical Lesbians Page 14