by Belle, Jove
Simone liked Abby’s conversation starter better than her own, but it only led to disaster. Fucking straight girls with boyfriends had lost its appeal for Simone a long time ago. Except for this girl, apparently. As much as her brain said this was a bad idea, Simone’s body was at full attention, rapt and ready to act if given a chance.
Simone edged nearer to Abby—close enough to be suspect if anyone was paying attention. “Don’t let your boy hear you say that.” Simone wanted to press her lips to Abby’s ear, to let her breath caress Abby’s skin, but she held back.
Abby stiffened. “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend.”
“Right. I forgot.” Simone couldn’t afford to believe Abby. She’d watched the two of them together. She might not be his lover, but she definitely loved him. Simone didn’t want to learn exactly where the line was drawn in Abby’s heart. “Maybe you should tell him that.”
“He knows.” Abby spoke with the conviction of truth. “What can I do to make you believe me?”
Simone shook her head. She leaned in closer to Abby, unable to avoid temptation. It was such a bad idea, but just as she’d thought, once hadn’t been enough. Abby was so deeply infused in Simone’s consciousness she feared she might never be able to remove Abby’s mark. She lied to herself, promised she could control the fall if she could just keep Abby from talking about real things. For Simone, it didn’t get much more real than her decade-old, unrequited love for Abby. Her only hope was to walk away, but her feet refused. And her mouth betrayed her as well. “Tell me what you’ve been thinking about me.”
“About you, the way you feel.” Abby took a breath and her eyes slipped shut. “The way you make me feel.”
Simone waited. She wanted more from Abby. She wanted to hear Abby say that she was unraveling, that Simone made her fray at the edges, the same as Abby did to her. She said nothing and they stood together, breathing each other in, capturing the other’s exhaled breath.
“God, Abby, I want—”
“There you are,” Gavin said, relief in his voice. “I thought I’d lost you.” He slipped his arm around Abby’s waist, pulling her into his bubble and out of Simone’s. Simone was getting goddamned well tired of him interrupting their near-intimate moments.
“I was just catching up with Simone.” Abby smiled, her mouth a tight, small line, and inclined her head in Simone’s direction. The dark edges of her eyes cleared as she spoke to him, re-casting herself as devoted girlfriend.
“Oh, yes. I forget the two of you know each other.” Gavin squeezed Abby indulgently, then his hand edged upward toward her breast. “Remind me how?”
“High school.” Simone answered for Abby, leaving out their recent exchange of bodily fluids in the Holts’ driveway. “If you’ll forgive me, I’m going to head out. I’ve absorbed as much holiday cheer as I can take.”
Simone slipped out with a wave to Dmitri and Holt, who were propped up together at a table with several empty bottles of champagne. As the newest associate, Simone had to attend these events. Fortunately, staying long enough to see the three senior partners make complete drunken asses of themselves was not. She’d seen more than enough for one night.
Simone glanced toward Abby one last time as she collected her coat. Abby stared at Simone from across the room, her gaze never wavering despite Gavin’s presence at her side. Simone wanted to look away, to prove she was unaffected. Instead, she maintained eye contact until the doors closed on the elevator, a physical barrier reminding her of the distance between herself and Abby.
*
The phone was ringing when Simone entered her apartment. She answered without checking the caller idea and instantly regretted it. She’d momentarily forgotten she was screening her calls.
There was no response when she said hello.
“And that was fun, but now I’m hanging up.” Simone had her finger on the END button when she heard a faint voice.
“No, wait.” Abby sounded distant, hesitant.
“Where did you get this number?” Prior to this point, Abby had limited her stalker behavior to Simone’s cell phone. “Gavin would have my cell, but not my home phone.”
Abby laughed. “I didn’t ask Gavin for your number.” Abby’s answer was a slap in the face to Simone. Why wouldn’t she get it from him if they weren’t lovers?
“Why not?”
“He’s my best friend. I’m not exactly eager to admit that I keep throwing myself at you, even though you’ve said you’re not interested. More than once. It’s embarrassing.”
“Best friend?” Simone blew a raspberry between her lips. It just looked and sounded like bullshit.
“Yes, Simone. We’re friends. How many fucking times do I have to say it?” Abby was angry and Simone thought it was sexy.
“He’s all over you. Every time I see the two of you. Tonight he practically copped a feel with me watching.” Simone was still pissed about that move.
“And that bothered you?” Abby’s voice was full of hope that Simone thought she didn’t deserve to have. Their relationship, for lack of a better term, was a non-starter.
“Of course it bothered me. Jesus, Abby. I don’t want anyone else to touch you. Ever.” That was more honesty than Simone had prepared for. It left her throat raw and her heart vulnerable.
“Why not?”
Simone focused on her breathing, one slow, easy inhale followed by a metered exhale. This conversation just needed to end.
“Simone?”
“I need to go.” All she had to do was hit the disconnect button. It was so simple and yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it.
“We need to talk about this.” A soft breath. “Please.”
Simone wanted to hang up. She needed to hang up. Maybe she could force Abby to do it for her. “Let me change out of this dress first.” She sighed and dropped the phone onto her bed without putting it on speaker. She needed a few minutes to clear her head. Perspective came with distance, and with Abby she needed a lot of distance, more than a few minutes’ reprieve from a phone call. Simone slipped out of her dress and into a well-worn T-shirt and shorts. She left the phone sitting long enough to remove her makeup and brush her hair and teeth. If she left it long enough, maybe Abby would give up and disconnect the call.
“I’m back.” Short of simply hitting the disconnect button—which she knew wouldn’t work because Abby would just call back—Simone had no choice but to push forward with the conversation.
“Good. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”
“I was hoping you’d think that.” Simone settled into bed. Unable to admit she hadn’t been able to forget about Abby for the past ten years, she figured a few minutes while she changed for bed was no threat to her memory.
“You never answered my question.”
“And I’m not going to. Where are you now?” Simone had left Abby at the party, but there weren’t any telltale party noises in the background.
“I just lay down. It’s been a long day.” Simone heard a light rustling of fabric and pictured Abby settling into her bed.
The image of Abby stretched out wearing something small and black and lacey with her hair down, probably mussed, hit Simone in the gut. She’d worked hard after high school to put Abby out of her mind. But all that work unraveled a little bit more every time Abby so much as exhaled in Simone’s direction.
“Tell me what you wanted to talk about.” Simone hated how soft her voice was, how needy. She purposely thought of the threat Abby posed to her well-being, to how close she was to falling apart completely. It didn’t help.
“Simone…” Abby paused. “I just…”
“Yes?” God, she sounded so eager. It was embarrassing.
“I just can’t stop thinking about you.”
Simone refused to jump on the statement. She already sounded like an eager puppy begging for more. It felt far too familiar, and she refused to relive the fantasy created by her sixteen-year-old self. It was bad enough that she was once aga
in on the phone with Abby, listening to her breathe and trying to build up the courage to ask for more.
“What about me?” Simone shifted her phone to her left hand and gave her right permission to roam. If Abby was going to call her up and revive a long-dead fantasy, Simone was going to take full advantage. Besides, whether her brain wanted to do this or not, her hands and body were fully engaged. “Tell me what you think about, Abby. Do you think about how we used to be friends? Or do you think about the kind of friends you’d like us to be now?”
Abby gasped, her breath ragged, but still she didn’t speak. Apparently she’d called Simone up to let her do all the heavy lifting. And that pissed Simone off.
“You want to know what I think about?” Simone stopped playing. She twisted her nipple between her thumb and forefinger. They were really doing this, and by the sound of Abby’s breathing, Simone was behind. “I think about how it felt to finally get inside you.”
“Oh, God.”
“Are you touching yourself, Abby? Are you touching yourself and imagining it’s me?” Simone pushed her shorts down, and they got caught around her ankles. She kicked hard but could only get one side to come off. She left the other hanging and shoved her hand inside her panties. She hissed as her fingers slid over her clit. It had been at attention for the past month, since first seeing Abby again. “Jesus, Abby, the things I want to do to you.”
“Yes, please.” It came out more a moan than words, but it was enough. Simone wanted to hear her shudder through a climax.
“What are you doing? Tell me.” Simone tried to sound stern, commanding, but she was too desperate to pull it off. Instead, she sounded like she was pleading for her life.
“Touching myself.” Abby’s voice came to a stuttering stop between “touching” and “myself.” Two words and she could barely get them out. Thank God she was having just as hard a time focusing on the conversation as Simone was.
“More.” The lack of details wasn’t working for Simone. She wanted to know all the dirty, naughty thoughts in Abby’s head, and she wanted to hear Abby say them over the phone while touching herself. “Tell me how.”
“My…ugh…clit.” Abby gasped, and Simone pressed her fingers in tighter circles over her increasingly hard bundle of nerves.
“Go inside.” Simone dipped her fingers lower, teasing herself, remembering the feeling of her fingers sliding into Abby, hot and wet and so, so open. She pushed inside with two fingers. “God, you feel so good.”
“Yes.” It came out as a long, heavy groan. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to come?” Simone slowed, letting her fingers explore but not push. “Do you want me to make you come?”
“Please, yes.” Abby’s voice was honey-heavy, dripping with desire. “I want you so bad.”
“Not yet.” Simone sat up in bed and wiped her fingers on the bedspread.
“Simone…” Abby whimpered. “Please, Simone, I need…”
“Here’s what I want you to do.” Simone leaned into the phone, her lips pressed close to the receiver. It was the only kiss she could get from Abby at the moment. “Either finish by yourself…”
“No,” Abby said, a bare, desperate whisper. “Simone.”
The way she said Simone’s name was hypnotic, a whisper through the trees in the summertime—lulling, beautiful, promising. As always, it left Simone wanting more.
“Or you can put your clothes back on and get your ass over here. Do that and I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll forget everything but my name.” Simone finished in a whisper, her finger over the END button.
Simone disconnected the call and threw the phone onto the bed. She pushed her hands through her hair and blew out a frustrated sigh. Her thighs were sticky, her cunt needy, and her brain foggy. No part of her agreed with the words that had just come out of her mouth, and a full-scale riot was guaranteed if she didn’t get a little release. She pushed herself to her feet. First, she’d take a cold shower to cool off, not that she thought it would help, and then she’d wait.
Chapter Five
Simone poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the sofa sipping it. Either Abby would show up and be impressed with the wine selection—it was a damn fine bottle—or Simone would move from sipping to gulping and finish off the damn fine wine by herself. Nothing pathetic about that. Not at all.
She’d debated waiting naked, but the possibility that Abby would be a no-show compelled her to dress. She’d rather have Abby take her clothes off than have to get dressed alone later when she was drunk on a bottle of wine she also drank alone. When she’d told Abby to get her ass to her place, Simone had felt brave. The sound of Abby on the verge of release, the heady power of knowing she’d caused the desperate way Abby gulped air, her breathing choppy and uneven, had made her overconfident. The longer she waited, the more foolish her demand seemed. An orgasm with the woman who twisted her insides, even via phone, was better than not having one at all. Wasn’t it?
She was on her second glass of wine when she heard a faint almost-not-there knock at the door. It was so soft she wondered if she’d imagined it out of desperation. A few seconds passed and she heard it again. Definitely not a hallucination.
Simone finished the glass of wine in a final gulp before opening the door. She needed the brief reprieve before she crossed the point of no return. When she opened the door, there’d be no turning back.
Abby looked as uncertain as Simone felt, like she wasn’t in complete control of the actions her body was taking, but she knew it probably wasn’t the smartest thing she could be doing at midnight on Thursday. Simone invited her in before either one of them could change her mind. Again.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Neither was I.” Abby clutched her long overcoat tight around her body. Her knuckles were turning white.
“You want me to hang that up?” Simone touched her fingers to the lapel of Abby’s coat, just let them rest there lightly for a moment. She’d demanded Abby’s presence so she could touch her with a lot more than just two fingers skimming along fabric, but the action still felt overly intimate to her.
Abby chewed her bottom lip. “Ummm…” She unknotted the belt slowly. “I think so.”
What the hell was the big deal? It was just a coat, for Christ’s sake. Abby’s hesitance confused and annoyed Simone. What did Abby think would happen when she took it off? She’d be trapped in Simone’s apartment forever?
Then Abby parted the front and let it slide off her shoulders and Simone was staring at breasts. And legs. Perfect breasts and legs that made her want to prostrate herself in worship.
Every thought in her head shuddered and ground to a halt. Abigail Nelson was standing naked in her foyer, and all Simone could do was gape, open-mouthed, and wait to wake up. No way was this real.
“Simone? I need you to say something or do something or…something.” Abby shifted her weight from foot to foot, her hands moving restlessly. “This was a bad idea. I knew it was a bad idea, but I couldn’t help but hope. I’m just going to get my coat and go.”
Simone didn’t register her words until she bent to collect her coat from the floor. Simone growled when she realized that Abby was gathering herself to leave. “No.” She took the coat with a little too much force and pulled Abby into her arms as well. She caught her easily, the coat between them. Abby here, in her home, was a great idea. She held Abby for several moments and stared into her eyes. She had so many questions, but there was no clear answer in sight. Every thought led her to the same conclusion. A relationship with Abby spelled disaster. The tenuous grip Simone had on her own emotions would slip and fall into the abyss with one wrong move.
“Let me take that.” She released Abby and moved back a careful half step. She wanted to stay and simply look at Abby. She was perfection, and any time spent with her was pure decadence. The smooth line running from the base of Abby’s neck to the top of her ass begged Simone to touch, to caress the flesh and run her tongue along the trail of h
er spine.
Simone snatched the coat from Abby’s hands and turned abruptly toward the coat closet. She needed to clear her head, to stop herself from thinking about this moment like a scene from a bad romantic comedy and figure out what to do next. Clarity would never happen while she was looking at Abby. All that skin was way too distracting. Who could be bothered with mundane things like thinking? Simone kept her movements metered and slow, taking her time to carefully hang the garment on a wooden hanger, then place it on the bar in the closet. Each movement gave her another moment to collect herself, or so she hoped.
When she turned back to Abby, whatever calm she’d managed to scrape together was lost. She swallowed once, but it did nothing to clear the desertscape in her mouth and throat. She needed a drink.
“Wine?”
Simone started pouring before Abby could answer, and the glass was half full before Abby spoke.
“I really didn’t come here for wine, Simone.” Abby took a slow, shaky step toward Simone, and then another, until the only thing between them was Simone’s half-full wineglass. Abby took it from Simone’s fingers and set it on the coffee table. “And that’s not why you invited me here, is it?”
“Definitely not.” Simone wanted to ask about Gavin, about Abby’s willingness to lie on his behalf, but if she did that, she’d be forced to think about reality. That wasn’t nearly as appealing as the very naked Abby. Instead of speaking, she closed the gap completely, moaning when her lips met Abby’s. This was such a bad idea. A perfect, disastrously bad idea, until the “disastrously bad” part fell away under an onslaught of kisses and all she was left with was “perfect.”
“God…” Simone moaned into Abby’s mouth, desperate to say more, share how she felt, how the sensation of Abby’s skin against her fingertips, her tongue sliding along Simone’s, how just the sight of her vulnerable and needy standing in Simone’s entry made Simone willing, how it made her want to take self-destructive chances with her career, with her life, with her heart.