Just My Luck

by Andrea Bramhall

  “Please don’t stop.”

  I keep my pace slow, my thrusts deep, and gently twist my hand so that I can reach her clit as I move inside her. I feel her muscles contract around my fingers, and I know she’s close.

  “Don’t come until I tell you to.”

  “Oh God.”

  Her thighs tremble as she pushes back to meet each thrust. I straddle her leg and use my free hand to spread my own soaked flesh open and pump against the firm muscle, desperately in need of some relief. I drive into her harder as I near my own climax, and I want to feel her come around my fingers.

  “Now, baby. Come for me now.”

  She doesn’t hold back. Her head snaps up and she tries to keep the scream from passing her lips. The arch of her back is so deep I fear her bones will pop, but I can feel all her internal muscles contracting before they push me out of her body with a gush of liquid. I almost forget my own orgasm as I stare at her, dripping with come, and then I have to taste her again. I just have to. I use my tongue to push her into another orgasm until she collapses and lies shuddering on the bed. She manages to turn herself over onto her back and grins at me.

  “I need to make you come in my mouth, but I can’t move,” she says, her voice barely audible.

  “I can fix that.” I kiss her, then crawl up her body until I have one knee on either side of her head. “Is this what you had in mind?”

  She doesn’t answer with words. Her tongue’s already busy, her lips sucking at my clit, her hands squeezing the cheeks of my arse as I ride her face. By the time she makes me come twice, I feel as boneless as she is. Sleep eventually claims me, but it could easily be a sex-induced coma.

  CHAPTER 22

  GENNA

  The sun is just peeking over the horizon when I open my eyes to see it filtering in through the blinds. The scent of sex fills the room, and I hope like hell that it wasn’t just a dream. I stretch my arms over my head and feel the tightness in my muscles. I turn over and smile. It wasn’t a dream. Abi’s facing me, her hands tucked under her cheek. A small smile lifts the corners of her mouth. The fine lines at the corner of her eyes crinkle when her smile deepens.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” she says quietly and kisses me on the tip of my nose.

  “You’re still here.” I stick my hands under my cheek, copying her pose.

  “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

  Her eyes are gentle as she watches me slowly wake up. Her hand is soft on my arm, stroking up and down as if she just can’t get enough of touching me. There’s no awkwardness, no uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach like I had after my first night with Ruth. It just feels right. It’s like the incredible intimacy we shared is exactly what is meant to be between us. I feel like I belong. With her.

  But I’m still worried. There’s no denying that Abi seems more comfortable with sex than I am. Okay, much more comfortable than I am. But I’m still scared. I mean, she said last night that this is her first time with a woman. Sort of. And she said relationship. Does she want a relationship with me? Is that what she meant? If so, why? I mean, why now? Is it about the money? No, that’s ridiculous. Abi isn’t like that. Besides, she knows that as her friend, I’ll give her everything I have if she ever needs anything. She didn’t need to sleep with me for money. So then why? Why me? Why now? Is it just sex?

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “I’m just trying to get my head around it all, I suppose.”

  “What? This? Us?”

  “Is there an ‘us’?”

  “Do you want there to be?”

  With every fibre of my being I want there to be an ‘us’. I want to hold her and never let go. I want to love her for the rest of my life. I want to take care of her and hold her when she cries. I want to make her laugh and smile. I want to be the person she wakes up next to every morning. The first thing she sees when she opens her eyes, and the last thing before she closes them.

  “Yes.” My voice is barely a whisper. I hold my breath while I wait for her to decide my fate. Happy ever after or dash my heart against the rocks of cold, lonely despair.

  “Me too.”

  I feel like I’m flying as we kiss. I want to tell her that I love her. But I don’t. I want to tell her that I’ll always be there for her. But I don’t. I want to tell her that everything I have is hers. But I don’t. It’s too soon. We need time. I need time. I need time to be sure. Not of how I feel, or anything. I need to be sure of how she feels about me, about us. Well, I’m actually getting a pretty good idea of how she feels as she tugs me close to her, her hand palming my backside roughly before she starts to kiss my neck again. God, I love when she does that. Her breasts are pressed against mine, and I love the feel of them, her nipples hardening against my own. I’m breathing heavily as she lifts my leg over her hip and slips her fingers between my thighs. I’m already wet and wanting and eager to pull her inside me.

  “Tell me what you want,” she says.

  “You know what I want.”

  “I want to hear you say it.” Her fingers play at my entrance. Teasing and dipping, withdrawing and circling until I feel I’m going crazy.

  “You like to hear me say dirty things?”

  “It turns me on to hear what you want. Asking for your own pleasure isn’t dirty, Genna. It’s owning your own body and being comfortable with it. You have a beautiful body.” Her fingers skim over my clit. “So fucking sexy.” She nips my ear. “I want you to believe that. I want you to believe that I want to please you. I want you to know that I will do anything for you. Anything you want me to.” Her fingers stray along the crack of my arse and back again. “Anything. All you have to do is ask.”

  I’m bucking my hips toward her moving fingers. I want her to claim me, to make me hers. I want her to own me.

  “All you have to do is ask, baby.”

  “Oh God, Abi. Fuck me, please.”

  Then she’s there, in me. Her mouth covering mine, her tongue plunging in time with the driving thrusts of her arm, and all I can do is hold on as she pushes me higher. I grind my hips against her hand, seeking release until I can’t hold on any longer. I scream my orgasm into her mouth as she milks the last tremors of pleasure from my body and holds me as I calm down. She shivers when I slide my hand between her legs, and in only seconds of my fingers rubbing her clit, she comes. For me. Because of me.

  “You’re amazing,” I whisper.

  “Mum, I’m hungry.” Rosie pushes open the door and walks into the room. I manage to pull the sheet over my head. Abi doesn’t even blink.

  “Go get dressed, then, and we’ll go to breakfast.”

  “Why’s Genna hiding?”

  “She isn’t, sweetie. She lost an earring and she’s trying to find it.”

  “Oh, do you want me to help, Genna?”

  “No thanks, Rosie. I think I found it.”

  “Okay.”

  “Close the door behind you, Rosie.”

  She skips out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her. I jump out of the bed and try to find some clothes quickly.

  “Genna, stop.”

  “What?”

  “Stop panicking.”

  “I’m not panicking.”

  “Yes, you are.” She holds out her hand. “Come here.”

  I sit down again and look at her. She’s totally calm. I’m talking zen calm here. “Why aren’t you panicking?”

  “Because Rosie has no idea what’s going on in here. She’ll only notice something if we act any differently.”

  “Like hiding under the covers?”

  “Exactly. Rosie’s seen me naked, on many occasions. By accident and by design. She doesn’t have any problem with it. Hell, she follows you into the toilet whenever she can, so she’s probably seen more of your arse than I have.” She laughs, and I feel my cheeks start to burn. “And as far as sex goes, well, I haven’t spoken to her about it yet, but I don’t intend to hide it from her. She’s high functioning. There is
no reason why one day, she might not have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. When that happens, I don’t want her to feel that it’s a bad thing or something she can’t talk to me about. I don’t ever want her to feel that sex is something she has to hide from me. So things like nudity or having someone in my bed are all stages along the way. I’ll answer her questions when she asks them and keep my own discomfort and embarrassment out of the equation.”

  I mull that over. It makes a lot of sense. “So what do you want me to do?”

  “Just don’t panic. She knows we’ve been staying in the same bed because she wants her own room. She’s not going to see anything different unless we show her something different. If she comes in and we’re naked under the covers, she doesn’t know that. So don’t panic.”

  “What if she comes in and catches us kissing or making love?”

  “I’ll deal with it.”

  It all sounds so reasonable. And logical. But there are still parts missing. “Do you intend to tell her about us?”

  “Not right now.” She kisses me and holds my hand. “Right now, I want to keep this between us and just enjoy being with you. Is that okay?”

  A little warning bell sounds in the back of my brain, but I silence it. It’s new, right? Who wouldn’t want to just enjoy it at the beginning, right?

  “Sure. I think we should get up now. Rosie will be back in a minute.”

  “Then I suggest you go and jump in the shower before I can’t resist you anymore.”

  I walk away from her, grinning. Grinning and floating and totally in love. I just hope she’s in love with me.

  CHAPTER 23

  GENNA

  I am ready to burst. There’s no other way of putting it. I’m up to my eyeballs in love and hormones, and if I don’t talk to someone about it, I’m going to explode. I have limited options at this point, so thank the Lord for the ship’s Internet cafe. It’s about as fast as dial-up used to be, but it’s contact with the home front. Or in this case, Claire. I boot up the computer and log on to Facebook.

  Hey, shrimp, what’re you up to?

  I was having a day of rest. That means no gym, a break from my diet. Again. A whole day in my jammies, on the sofa watching Halle Berry films.

  Halle Berry again, huh?

  Indeed, my friend. I like to start at the beginning of her career and work my way forwards. So we start with The Flintstones. What can I say, she brings out the caveman in me. Then it’s time for Executive Decision. By eleven in the morning, I’ll be making it to X-Men. Swordfish, Monster’s Ball, and Catwoman are but a few of the delights ahead of me today.

  It’s all go in your world.

  That it is. So, where are you now?

  Heading to Sri Lanka.

  Cool, cool. How’s it going?

  Meh, okay, I guess. Wanna take a guess at who got lucky?

  What? No fucking way. You’re out there with Abi. No way are you going out on the pull.

  Abi got pissed and totally laid one on me in Thailand.

  You’re fucking with me.

  She’s jumping up and down on the sofa. I can practically see it from here—in my imagination, but I can see it. And I’m grinning like the cat that got the cream.

  Did you fall off the sofa yet?

  Fuck off.

  Lol.

  I don’t believe you.

  Pinkie swear.

  The pinkie swear was our most sacred of promises. It had been since we were four years old, when I decided I wanted a perm so my hair would be just like Claire’s. We stole my gran’s rollers, and she stole my mum’s powder compact to try and make her face as pale as mine. It was never going to happen.

  Oh man.

  Anyway, we’ve been imitating rabbits ever since. We’re keeping it quiet at the mo, so don’t go blabbing. And don’t tell my mother! I mean it, bitch! If she hears it from anyone but me, I’ll skin you alive. While Rosie tells you all about pirates!

  Spoil all my fun, why don’t you?

  I’ll tell you all about it when we get home. Just one thing, though—get yourself an older woman. The sex is fucking amazing!

  I don’t believe it. Well, I do. I know you’d never make up that shit. That’s my job. But, oh my fucking God! You’ve got to be the luckiest woman on the fucking planet. I mean, come on, you win millions on the lottery, and now you’ve bagged the woman of your dreams? I’d have to hate you if you weren’t my best friend. It’d probably be a law or some shit like that.

  We need to get you sorted next. I’m making it a mission.

  Maybe we can start a film company and get Halle Berry to work for us. I’m having this whole casting couch fantasy right now. Don’t interrupt me…

  I wait.

  Bear with…

  I wait some more.

  Bear with…

  And a little more.

  No, just fuck off now. I’m busy.

  I laugh to myself and sign out of my Facebook account. Okay, I don’t feel like I need to explode now. Well, not for a few minutes, anyway. Now, where has that woman of my dreams got to?

  CHAPTER 24

  ABI

  “Abi, I can’t see a thing!”

  “That’s why it’s called a blindfold, baby.”

  “Ha ha. Where are you taking me?”

  “It’s a surprise. Hence the blindfold.”

  “But I’m going to fall!”

  Granted, walking without being able to see is pretty difficult. On sand, down gangplanks, and on uneven concrete, it’s even trickier. However, there was no way I was going to let anything happen to her. It’s Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake.

  “I promise, I will not let you fall.” I hold her hand tight and lead her down the dock to a jetty with speedboats tethered to it. The Maldives are a stunning collection of island atolls in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and the capital, Malé, is no exception to the rule. Turquoise-blue water, crystal-blue sky, hot sun, white sand, and the promise of adventure. Today’s adventure is an ocean safari on the hunt for dolphins and whales. The speedboat we are heading for is bobbing on the water like a red-and-white jewel, the sun glinting off the hull and the deck hands scurrying about, readying it for our trip. I nod to the guys on the boat and hand over our bag of towels, sun cream, and snorkelling gear. We’re already wearing swimsuits under our shorts. The men are all smiling at us as I lead her towards the edge of the jetty. One reaches out and takes hold of Genna’s arm, making her jump.

  “It’s okay, baby. Now take a big step slightly down.” With a white-knuckled grip on my hand, she steps. Her breath catches as she lands on the seat at the back of the boat. I jump in behind her and help her sit.

  “Can I take this off yet?” She moves her hands to the scarf tied around her eyes.

  “No. Not yet.”

  She lets out a huge sigh and drops her hands back to her lap. I reach over and hold one, and I smile when she interlaces our fingers. It’s such a simple gesture, isn’t it? Weaving your fingers with someone else’s. But it means so much. There’s a trust inherent to it, a deeper meaning to that physical contact. The symbolic joining that simply holding hands doesn’t quite convey.

  I watch the smile grow on her face as the boat roars out into the open water. The crew stares out to sea, looking for the day’s quarry. The wind is whipping through our hair, the sun beats down on us, and the salt spray splashes as we skip over the waves with increasing speed. She leans her head against my shoulder and I can’t stop myself from wrapping my arm around her back. I spot flying fish off the bow and know she’d want to see.

  “Take it off now and look.”

  She squints against the sun when she pushes the scarf away from her face before. She giggles at the fish jumping out of the water and flying in small groups.

  “I wonder what they’re running away from,” she says.

  “Nothing good, I’ll bet.” I kiss the side of her head where it rests so close to my mouth. I hear chuckling coming from some of the crew members and turn to see what they are la
ughing at. I can’t see anything. Maybe one of them made a funny comment. I shake it off and concentrate on Genna again.

  “So where are we going?”

  “Well, the guys here are looking for some critters that we can go swimming with, and then we’re going for a picnic on a deserted atoll.”

  You’ve heard the phrase “her face lit up,” yeah? Yeah, me too. I thought it was a load of shit. Romantic fools making some pretty excuse for gas or high blood pressure. Well, maybe she does have gas, or maybe she has got high blood pressure. Hell, she might even just have sun burn! But what I know, right this second, is that her face just lit up. I want to take credit for that. I want to be the reason for that look on her face. The one that says she is blissfully happy. The one that says I got this right.

  “That is so wonderful. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  She kisses me quickly on the lips. It’s a chaste kiss, one that says “thank you” rather than “I want you.” But I feel it all the way into my soul.

  And I hear that little snigger again.

  All the guys are looking outwards, so I can’t tell who it was. Maybe it’s just my imagination. My own little bit of paranoia creeping in. After all, being out in public with my girlfriend is pretty new to me. Displays of affection were never something I was a huge fan of before, but the thought of not touching Genna whenever I feel like it doesn’t sit right with me. Maybe I just need to adjust? Get used to a new dimension of my own psyche? In all the time I’ve fantasised about being with Genna, I don’t think I’ve ever really followed through on what it would really be like to be with her. I thought about the sex. A lot. I thought about the conversations we’d have. I thought about living in a house with her. I never thought about walking down the street with her, holding her hand, then watching the reaction we got from people around us. I never thought about doing the weekly shop and what people might say when they realised we were arguing over whose turn it was to cook and what we should buy. I never thought about what it would be like to visit her mum and what she might have to say. Would she be pleased that we were together? Or would she think I was some perverted cradle snatcher? Would she welcome me as her daughter’s partner or grow cold towards me? Would she keep me at arm’s length like she did Ruth? I thought about how we would be with Rosie, but I never actually thought about telling her. I never thought about the words that I would actually have to say to try and make her understand. Could she understand? Does it really matter either way?