Double Grades

by Kristine Robinson

  My lips formed a seal around her clit, and I tongued it. I kept a steady pace, never changing my rhythm. Quick, firm flicks of my tongue back and forth while I fucked her with my fingers. I kept everything not too fast, not too slow. I wanted to feel every second of the glide of her inner flesh around me.

  When she came, her back bowed off the bed, and she yelled wordlessly.

  I felt the entire thing. I felt the twitching of her clit under my tongue and the pulsing of her walls around my fingers. I felt the slick rush of warmth as she grew wetter, soaking my fingers and leaving a puddle on the sheets beneath her.

  I like to think for my first time, I did a damn good job.

  Chapter Four

  As was so often the case, when morning rolled around and I woke to find Natalie beside me, her face serene in sleep, reality hit me like a truck on the freeway. I’d slept with Natalie. I’d kissed her. My mouth had explored nearly every inch of her. I’d touched her. I’d had my tongue, my fingers, inside of her. I knew what she sounded like when she climaxed, and I knew how it felt to have her inner heat squeeze around me. With the heat of the moment a thing of the past, it all seemed very surreal. My insecurities paraded back in like ants to a feast. I really liked her, the kind of head over heels thing that I’d only read about before. But I couldn’t imagine this was anything to her other than a fling. She was lonely and I was there.

  How was I going to survive this?

  The blank ceiling provided no answers.

  I looked to Natalie’s sleeping form. She was curled facing me, her lips parted and her thick lashes fanned out. Her lips were the kind of puffy that occurred after hours of kissing. Her hair was spread all over the pillow, messy and tangled from my hands being in it so much the night before, and her arm was extended halfway between us, her fingers curled into her palm. The sheets were pulled above her breasts, but they dipped on her side, revealing the curve of one. From this angle I could see the start of a bruise, sucked into the pale skin by mouth. A glance at her neck revealed several similar bruises. I’d left my marks all over Natalie. She looked like the kind of woman I’d seen in lingerie ads, and I couldn’t wrap my head around how this was my reality. If she weren’t laying next to me, I’d think last night had been nothing but a really fantastic dream brought on by my pining.

  I was starting to panic.

  Should I wake her and demand to know what last night had meant? Should I slide from the bed and flee the scene? What time was it anyway? Did I have to go into work today? Was there a class I was forgetting about?

  Natalie’s hand landing on my stomach scared me half to death. She lazily rubbed the spot just below my belly button as I startled. After last night her touch shouldn’t have felt like such an extraordinary thing. I should have become used to it. But heat rushed through me, and I felt myself becoming wet from nothing more than an innocent touch. “Don’t ruin the afterglow,” she said, her eyes still closed. “Last night was good. Hold on to that.”

  I could feel my eyebrows furrowing with confusion. What did that even mean?

  Huffing, Natalie moved quickly for someone who was moments before asleep, draping her sleep heavy body over mine. She was warm, and she let the covers fall from around her. Her naked body was pressed against mine, breasts pressing against my stomach. I could feel the hard points of her nipples. “I’m happy,” she said, lips moving against my skin, words muffled. “Chill out.” She curled her fingers around my wrist and notched her head underneath my chin. I didn’t know how that could be comfortable for her. She was taller than me by several inches, and I couldn’t help but wonder if her feet were hanging over the edge of the bed.

  Natalie’s free hand came to rest over my mouth. “Shush,” she said. “Everything is perfect.”

  That was a word I’d been thinking a lot lately. It was something I rarely ever had used before. All of this was starting to seem too good to be true. I attempted to will myself back to sleep, but no matter how many sheep I counted or how hard I tried to regulate my breathing to something more relaxing, it wouldn’t come.

  Natalie wasn’t having the same problem. She was snoring quietly, every exhale ghosting over my collarbone and raising goosebumps on my skin. The tip of her nose was cold against my neck, and I could feel the fluttering of her lashes over my skin whenever she moved. Her hair was like a second blanket around me, and I concentrated on not accidently laying on any of it. This somehow seemed more intimate—and intimidating—than anything we’d done last night.

  Eventually I could lie still no longer, and very carefully I extricated myself from Natalie’s hold, sliding from the bed. I left the warmth of her for the cool of the air, and I felt her absence against me immediately. It was more than surface level. She grumbled in discontent and I froze, but a moment later she rolled over, reaching for one of the pillows. She pulled it against her stomach, replacing me with it, and went right on sleeping.

  Sighing in relief, and refusing to let myself stare at just how incredible a figure she made in the bed, I bent to find my scattered clothes. My feet were chilled against the tile floor and the apartment’s air conditioning was starting to get to the rest of me. I hadn’t realized how cocooned I’d been in the bed until now. It wasn’t a problem to find my jeans or my top, but it took me what felt like hours to find my panties and socks. Once I’d collected everything, I quietly slipped from the room with it all balled up in my arms.

  I stood in the hall for a minute, debating between dressing and bolting or taking a shower first. Maybe the water would kick start a part of my brain that didn’t run entirely on panic. I could use the clear thinking.

  Rather than return to the bedroom and the master bath, I headed for the guest bath. It wasn’t as fancy as the master one, but it was still incredibly luxurious. From my times cleaning off after swimming, I was well aware of just how magical the water pressure in this building was.

  I stood under the spray, my back to it and my head tilted to properly soak my hair, for a long time. The pounding of the water along my spine and shoulders worked loose tension that had been building since the moment I woke. I didn’t move for the soap or the shampoo. I closed my eyes and focused on the sound of the falling water, the heat of it spreading over my skin, the feel of it pelting me. I let myself sink into the sensation and block reality for some time.

  When my skin started to prune, I reluctantly began to wash. I took in the bruises on my own skin, left there by Natalie’s mouth. By her teeth and the press of her fingers into my flesh as she held me down. My nipples were tender from her attention, and my thighs were littered with purpling marks and faint bite indentations. I felt better about things—Natalie wouldn’t have slept with me if there wasn’t some interest on her part, she wasn’t the type of person to use others—and I was willing to risk facing the morning ahead. If I didn’t stay and see it through, I’d never know for sure what the outcome would have been.

  Cleaning felt a lot like washing the night before away, and I told myself I was being dramatic. Nothing was so drastic. I stepped from the shower into the cold air and proceeded to dry myself with speed. I’d redress and go make coffee for myself and one of Natalie’s gross smoothies for her. I’d watched her do it enough times now to know what went into the blender, and while I shuddered to think of drinking it, Natalie loved to start her morning with it.

  Health nuts, man.

  Natalie wasn’t anywhere to be seen, so I figured she was still sleeping. Even better. I’d surprise her with the smoothie in bed.

  I got things started in the kitchen and was in the midst of chopping kale for the blender when the doorbell rang. I glanced to the time on the oven. It was barely past eight in the morning on a Friday. Who came over that early? Conscious of my wet hair and my wrinkled clothes from the day before—I painted an obvious, embarrassing picture—I went to open the door.

  The woman on the other side was drop dead gorgeous. Her legs went on for miles and her smile was something you’d see in a dental advertisem
ent. She wore a pair of skin tight jeans and a shirt that bared her impressive midriff. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was probably a model like Natalie.

  “Um, hi.”

  Her eyebrows rose as she stared at me. The smile that quirked her lips was—in my humble opinion—like the spider’s to the fly. I resisted the urge to step back a foot. “Hello,” she said, and her voice was accented, distinctly British. As if she hadn’t been enough of a knockout before. “And who’re you?”

  It was tempting to say, “No one.” My manners took over. “I’m Amber.” I paused. “I’m a friend of Natalie’s.”

  Her smile grew wider, blossoming into what I considered a smirk. “Aren’t we all?” Her voice was so crisp, so polite it left me blinking for a moment before I parsed what she’d said and the meaning beneath it.

  I could feel my face flushing, the heat rising to the tips of my ears. My panic from earlier was rushing back in. If Natalie could have someone like this woman, there was no way she seriously planned to settle for me. Things like that didn’t happen in my world. Dignity kept me from fleeing around the woman in the doorway and leaving with no shoes and no phone. I didn’t want her to know she’d frazzled me.

  Against my better judgment I let her in. She practically sailed by me, her heels clicking on the tile, and she headed for Natalie’s bedroom as if she owned the place. I was left gaping after her, and it took some effort to pick my jaw up from the proverbial floor. The nerve. Flustered and more than a little angry, I went to the kitchen and scanned the countertops for my phone.

  Natalie would have to finish making her own smoothie.

  Where was my phone?

  I realized I’d left it in the bedroom. Joy. I could leave without it, but I couldn’t exactly afford a new one. I’d have to go in there and get it. Double joy.

  Dread roiling in my stomach, I went to the bedroom as one might approach a guillotine. I found the model sitting on the end of Natalie’s bed, a hand on Natalie’s leg under the cover. I cleared my throat, feeling distinctly like I was interrupting. “Sorry, I forgot my phone.”

  Natalie smiled when she saw me, and she put her arm out. She wasn’t dressed, nothing more than the sheet covering her. She had it tucked around her, under her armpits like one did a towel. Her hair fell in waves around her face, sticking up and tousled in spots. She looked debauched, and it hit me. I’d done that. “Come here. I want to properly introduce you to Chloe.”

  Confused—this wasn’t the reaction of someone who wanted rid of me—I approached slowly and allowed Natalie to tug me down and against her. Her arm was firm around my shoulders, and she stroked me with her fingers while she talked. I didn’t know if the touch was intentional or unconscious. “Amber, this is Chloe. We’ve worked together. Chloe this is Amber.” She was rubbing my arm. “My girlfriend.”

  There went my jaw dropping again. What? Since when? How? What?

  Chloe laughed, and I imagined I must have appeared pretty gobsmacked. Her laugh didn’t sound mean, and when I managed to glance at her instead of Natalie’s calm features, I found she didn’t look petty or hoity at all. Had my vision been colored by jealousy? Embarrassment of a new kind began to filter through me.

  I tried to get up, to leave. I needed time to think and process everything. But Natalie kept ahold of me, not letting me move from her side. She was strong, and I was blindsided by the memory of her pinning me to the bed the night before. Of her licking and teasing me until I didn’t know up from down. “Chloe,” she said sweetly, “my ankle’s a bit sore. Would you mind getting a painkiller for me?”

  Chloe grinned. “No problem.”

  It was the least subtle thing ever.

  When she was gone I turned to Natalie. “What?”

  Natalie rolled her beautiful green eyes. “I told you to stop overthinking. I don’t sleep with people if it doesn’t mean something.” She traced her thumb under my eye. “How close were you to running out on me?”

  I swallowed heavily, embarrassment settling heavy on my shoulders. “Very.” I sounded sheepish. “I still feel like it,” I admitted. Everything I wanted was right in front of me, and I couldn’t help but think it seemed too good to be true. Where was the catch? “This is a lot to process.”

  Natalie looked thoughtful, and if you glanced at the tilt of her lips a little sad. I felt awful for putting that expression on her face. “Why don’t you take the time to think about it, and let me know what conclusion you come to? I don’t want to push you into anything.”

  It was the cowardly thing to do, and I knew it. I let my insecurities win in that moment. I took the out Natalie had given me.

  Chapter Five

  The morning of the marathon dawned. I hadn’t seen Natalie since the confusing morning after, and I’d texted her only a handful of times to let her know I was still figuring things out. I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Happiness was right in front of me, but doubts were picking at the edges and rendering me mute.

  If I embarked on this relationship, I’d be all in. I was already in love with her, I could admit that now, and I’d known her for all of five seconds in the grand scheme of things. Acknowledging that was overwhelming. I was inherently a practical person. There was nothing practical about any of this. It was the kind of thing that happened in fiction and not real life. And fiction never showed the aftermath. What would happen when Natalie came to her senses? I’d be left heartbroken. That’s what. And what if I was always jealous? What if my reaction to Chloe became a common occurrence? I didn’t want to be the kind of person who let the green monster ride on her shoulder, making her doubt her partner’s every move. Truthfully I trusted Natalie more than that, but once again my own insecurities stepped into play. These other people Natalie would be around were much better options for her.

  The thought of Natalie with anyone else made my stomach roil. The image in my head of someone else kissing Natalie’s bare stomach, their fingers playing with her soft folds and drawing those delicate, mewling whines from her parted lips made me sick. Those were reactions for me. I wanted to be the only one to elicit them. The only one to know exactly what she felt like, sounded like.

  Ever since that night, I’d been able to think of little else. I dreamed of it. I dreamed of moving over her, our lips connected and our breaths shared. I dreamed of her hands on my body, drawing an equal response from me. And when I was awake I was no better. Even though the bruises had faded, I remembered where each had been and found myself pressing against the spots at the most random of times.

  I huffed at the ceiling, prone with indecision in my bed. I was being ridiculous. I didn’t have the right to decide for Natalie what she really wanted. And if I was being honest, she could have been my equal in money and there’d still be a chance it wouldn’t work. Every single thing we did in life ran that risk. Was I going to be brave and put everything on the line for her? Or was I going to tuck my tail and slink off like a coward?

  I’d continued, in my spare time, to condition for the marathon. Which said a lot right there. I wasn’t a quitter. I didn’t run when things got hard or dicey. I stuck it through with the hope the outcome would be worth it. I needed to get off my ass and go get the girl.

  I was behind on time, so I rushed through getting dressed and my morning routine, only slowing down to eat what Natalie would have termed a proper breakfast. I texted her on my way out the door to meet me at the marathon, and I told her I had something to tell her when it was all said and done, if I didn’t pass out midway through the insanely long affair.

  Roads had been closed for the event, and there were so many people milling around that it was overwhelming. I looked and I looked, but I couldn’t see Natalie. My stomach rolled with stress. She had to be here. She wouldn’t not show up.

  Numbers were handed out, and I was moved to stand in a clump of spandex clad people. It was probably foe the best I couldn’t see anything outside of my immediate vicinity. I was doing this for Natalie, and I didn’t want to trip
and fall on my face because I’d been too busy staring at the crowds. I’d find her after, and everything was going to be okay. No. It was going to be perfect.

  The marathon started, and I paced myself. It wasn’t a race, though a few people did charge ahead of the pack, but most of them stayed loosely in the formation they’d started in. There was a feeling of unity in it. We’d all cross the finish line together, not as individuals but as a whole.

  It was the most exhausting thing I’d ever done. There were times where I thought I couldn’t go on, where my chest felt fit to burst with the effort to draw in air, but I thought of Natalie and her steely belief in me. I was doing this for myself, but I was also doing this for her.

  Crossing the finish line felt like release. I’d done it. I doubled over, hands on my knees, and I panted. My legs were rubber, sore and shaking, and I suddenly didn’t know if I could take another step without keeling over.

  The bottom half of a pair of crutches appeared in my vision, and my breath caught for a whole other reason. Through sheer force of will, I straightened to find Natalie standing across from me. Her hair was shiny in the sunlight, and her lips were glossy. Her cheeks were rosy, and she was smiling. So big and so wide. The one that went always to her eyes.

  I’d had a speech prepared for this moment. I’d worked on it the journey here. It was long and heartfelt. I opened my mouth, and what came out was, “I love you.” The words were filled with naked honesty and so much emotion, punching from me without any say so on my brain’s part.

  Natalie engulfed me in a tight hug, dropping her crutches as she did so and putting all of her weight onto me. Her breasts pressed against me, and I was hit with a wave of longing so strong that I wasn’t sure whether it was that or her weight which rocked me back. I nearly fell, but I managed to stay upright and I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing tight as I buried my face against her shoulder. I luxuriated in the closeness of her, the familiar scent that I was beginning to associate with only her. “I love you,” I said again, on purpose this time.