The Way We Are

by Sally Graham

  The Way We Are

  A Lesbian Romance

  Sally Graham

  Lite Bite Publishing

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

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  Chapter 1

  Carrie reached over, groped for her smartphone, and turned off the alarm.

  The woman next to her whimpered and rolled over. “It’s still dark,” she groaned. “What time is it?”

  “Time to make a move, you sexy girl,” Carrie whispered, leaning across and planting a wet kiss on Riley’s bare shoulder. Was it Riley? Rachel? Ripley? She couldn’t remember. But she always told herself she didn’t need to. Carrie wasn’t into long term relationships.

  “I told you I had to get up early for an important meeting.”

  “I didn’t think you were serious!”

  “Okay - I’ll use the shower first and you can have a lie-in. But when I’m finished, there’ll be no hanging around. I mean it!”

  Carrie slipped out of bed and walked to the window. Her tall, toned body was silhouetted against the thin, about-to-be-dawn London light as she pulled a drape to one side and looked out across the skyline crenellated with skyscrapers and low-rise office buildings.

  Then she turned and glanced back at the figure curled under the sheets before walking into the bathroom. It had been quite a night, she remembered, but she was glad she hadn’t drunk too much. Riley, on the other hand……

  As Carrie stood under the steaming water she ran through the previous evening. She allowed herself a night off every couple of weeks, otherwise she felt she would go stir-crazy working in the frenetic, get-the-deal-done-today hothouse atmosphere of Frankle, Masters and Joyce.

  FMJ, as the investment bank was better known internationally, paid their key staff well, and the annual bonuses always attracted howls of outrage from the tabloid press. But largesse came at a cost, and Carrie had very little time for fun in her life.

  And fun meant checking anonymously into a luxury hotel before playing the bars and - if she was lucky - finding a beautiful gay girl to take home with her. There was usually always someone who wasn’t with a partner who liked the idea of finishing the evening in bed with this attractive, rich, banker.

  Carrie was always upfront. “I’m not looking for a relationship, darling,” she would say. “But you’re gorgeous and we’re having a good time. Why don’t we have one last drink and then you can come back to my place. I’m staying in the Regent.”

  Riley was a young Ph.D student at London university who had split up from a girlfriend and hadn’t planned on anything special that evening: maybe see who was hanging around in the clubs, and perhaps catch up with some friends.

  She had been surprised to find herself chatting to the attractive older woman who worked in banking, but she relaxed as the casual chat showed that she - Carrie, she discovered - was funny, a good listener and, let’s face it, sexy. Those mesmerising dark eyes had a way of catching hers, and spoke a parallel language to their conversation: you’re hot, and I fancy you.

  Riley was smart enough to sense that the evening could go several ways, and after an hour or so she found herself moving from wondering, to hoping, and then knowing that the two of them would end up somewhere together.

  “So what brings you all the way from Australia?” Carrie asked, looking into the smokey grey eyes that held hers over their wine glasses.

  “I’ve been travelling. I left Perth to do my undergraduate degree in Sydney, and then came here to do my doctorate. In data modelling,” she added, “before you ask.”

  Carrie smiled, turning up the voltage she was feeling. “I’m one of the few people in this room who might understand a fraction of your work - it’s critical in banking, you know.” Then she put her hand on Riley’s arm. “But don’t let’s mix business with pleasure.”

  Riley enjoyed the touch of her new companion’s hand, and leaned forward, her glass clinking against Carrie’s. “What else would you like to understand about me?” she asked, her voice husky and flirtatious.

  “Whatever you want to share,” Carrie answered, smiling, wanting to lean forward there and then and kiss Riley’s mouth. She sipped her wine and looked at the clock behind the bar. “Time for one more?”

  Their first kiss in the doorway of Carrie’s hotel room was a mix of cautious exploration and heady release, their lips pressing gently at first before they pulled away to look questioningly in each other’s eyes, and then holding each other tight as their kissing became more intense, their tongues questing and exploring, searching and adventuring.

  Carrie brushed Riley’s hair away from her forehead. “We can just go to bed,” she whispered. “We don’t have to - ”

  “Mmmm - we don’t have to do what?” Riley teased. “If you dragged me here just to kiss me, I’m going to ask the banker standing in front of me for my money back!”

  Carrie looked into those dancing eyes again and unfastened the top button of Riley’s cotton blouse. “No refunds, I’m afraid,” she whispered. “And I think we both want to do more than kiss.”

  Riley leaned forward as her blouse and bra were slipped off her shoulders, before she pulled Carrie’s denim out from her skinny jeans and undid her thin woven leather belt. “I want to make love to you,” she murmured, “It’s been too long since I came.”

  “Shhh - you’ll wake the neighbors,” Carrie smiled in the darkness as she pulled Riley’s jeans down her legs, holding her close, and then slid her hand under her panties, her fingers brushing past curly public hair and resting on the wet folds that betrayed Riley’s arousal.

  Carrie wriggled out of her jeans and quickly undid her bra. “Let’s lie down,” she whispered, guiding Riley across the bedroom.

  In a moment they had pulled back the coverlet and were pressing against one another, hands stroking, mouths exploring, thighs gripping, breath shortening.

  After kissing Riley’s breasts until she betrayed a small breathless moan, Carrie slid down her body, feather kissing her belly, her hair, the meltingly soft skin on the inside of each thigh, before allowing her mouth to rest against Riley’s swollen excitement.

  The other girl squirmed in frustration, opening her thighs wide, lifting her hips so that her wetness filled Carrie’s mouth.

  In a moment the older woman’s firm tongue was pressing inwards, licking and sucking until she held Riley’s hard clit between her lips, her tongue rolling over its slippery, pearly, hardness.

  “Yessssss!” Riley hissed, moving in unison with Carrie’s insistent love making, her fingers raking Carrie’s hair.

  Carrie felt her own arousal pooling heat between her legs, sparks of electricity shooting through her body, and in an instant she pulled back, and slid on top of Riley, end to end, pressing her own pussy against Riley’s willing mouth.

  They moved slowly for a few moments, each gauging the best position for the most intimate of lovemaking. Riley exulted in Carrie’s clean taste, the excitement of a new, older lover who was turning her on so powerfully. It was all she could do not to throw her head back and beg Carrie to focus on her, and her alone. But she was equally caught up by Carrie’s physicality - even at the bar she had caught the woman’s supremely anim
al presence, like a lioness in the wild. She tongued Carrie up and down, up and down, harder and harder, until her mouth was fixed upon Carrie’s clit, forever restless until she forced her partner to come.

  “Ahhhh-hhhhhh!”

  A moment later Carrie sagged against Riley who gasped as her own orgasm fired through her body, a tsunami of pleasure wrecking her senses.

  As Carrie soaped and lathered herself, her fingers lingering between her lips remembering the passion of only a few hours previous, she was tempted to suggest to Riley (how could she have forgotten her name?) that they kept in touch, maybe meet again when she next decided to indulge herself.

  The girl had been so incredibly hot.

  But as she turned off the shower and began to dry herself, she knew it wouldn’t work. She was not someone who went in for relationships. She valued her independence too much.

  Besides, she enjoyed her work: the deal making, the fierce pace, the travel - and the rewards. Freedom to do what she liked, with whoever she liked.

  When she walked back into the bedroom Riley was sitting on the edge of the bed rubbing her eyes.

  “Morning, beautiful,” Carrie whispered to her, kissing the top of her head.

  “Did I dream it, or did we have the most mind blowing sex?” Riley asked, lifting her mouth towards Carrie.

  “You dreamed it, darling. You came back here, fell into bed and I slept on the couch!”

  Those dancing eyes laughed. “Oh yeah? Then why does the bed reek of good, old fashioned sex? I need to shower!”

  Twenty minutes later they were standing on the hotel steps.

  “Honey- ”

  “No - don’t say anything. You were totally upfront. We had a great evening. Maybe we’ll bump into each other again?”

  “Maybe,” Carrie lied. “Good luck with the dissertation!”

  Riley kissed awkwardly, as though they hadn’t lain pulsing with lust only a few hours previously. She smiled shyly, and walked down the steps before joining the crowd of commuters heading towards the Underground. One last look backwards, a quick wave, and she was gone.

  As Carrie sat back in the cab that wound its way towards London’s financial centre, she found her thoughts returning to the sexy Ph.D student. There had been chemistry there, she thought. Could there have have been mileage?

  But almost as quickly as the warmth between her legs still reminded her of her last tumultuous orgasm, she pushed the memory away.

  She wasn’t ready to settle down. And she wasn’t into longterm relationships anymore. Ever again.

  “Carrie! Where the hell have you been? I’ve been messaging you all night!”

  The glass plate door had barely closed behind her before Marc Delaney had pushed past her. “We’re in trouble. There’s a last minute hitch with the Wickfann deal. You’ve got to sort it!”

  “Hey! Whoa! Slow up, Marc!” Carrie walked round to the screens that carried market data. She liked needling her boss who always overacted if he thought the firm was going to lose money on a transaction. She had never known a takeover - especially a hostile one - go smoothly. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Mark Delaney, VP Frankle, Masters and Joyce, was about to shout but he managed to slow his breathing. “I thought you said that you were on top of the woman who’s selling?”

  Carrie’s voice was crisp. “She’s not selling. You know that. She doesn’t want to sell. Her company is being taken over. It’s a good deal for her shareholders. But she still thinks it isn’t a good deal for her. She’s being emotional.”

  Mark held his phone in front of her.”Have you seen the headlines in the financial press? Or the screens? She’s saying that we have manipulated her share values!”

  “If you believe that, Delaney, you’d better go and lie down in the basement. When you surface, the takeover will be complete. Our client will own Wickfann, our fees will be eye-watering, and the world moves on. Oh - and I hope my bonus will reflect the twenty-hour days I have put into this.” She walked past him. “You couldn’t get me last night because I was doing what I haven’t been able to do for the last three weeks. Sleep!”

  At that moment Carrie’s assistant, Josie, knocked on the door gently and came in with several office files in her hand.

  “Here’s the latest information on Wickfann that you emailed for, on your way into the office,” she said.

  Carrie looked at Marc. “Like I said, I’d checked the markets before I got here. And I asked for the background. And I’ll do any firefighting that’s required.” She looked at her boss and smiled sweetly. “Was there anything else, Marc?”

  “You better be right,” was the grim reply, before he turned and yanked the door open.

  “One of these days he’s going to break that damn door,” Carrie smiled at Josie and turned back to her computer screen. “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. Let’s get started.”

  Chapter 2

  Eighteen Months Previously

  “What d’you mean you’re not coming? You told me you were free. Are you telling me something? ”

  Carrie looked at her lover. Georgie was standing in her bra and knickers, her short dark hair wet from the shower. “It’s been horrible at work, honey,” she said, anxious in case Georgie was going to throw one of her tantrums. “I haven’t had a break all day and my head is pounding- ”

  “Listen - It’s not as though it’s the first time you’ve stood me up- ”

  “I’M NOT STANDING YOU UP!” Carrie immediately regretted losing it as Georgie looked at her venomously.

  “OK - you stay here,” she snarled. “But I’m going anyway. And don’t blame me if I’m back late!” She grabbed her towel and pushed past Carrie who sighed and stepped out of the way.

  “Anyway, you know I wasn’t keen on that club,” she muttered as Georgie walked into their bedroom.

  Georgie spun round. “So it’s the club, is it? The scene? It’s too in your face for you, is it?” She took a breath. “Too dykey?” Stepping into a pair of tight black jeans up her legs she snapped the leather belt shut before tugging a white t-shirt over her head.

  Carrie waited. She knew what was coming next.

  “You know what? You’re running away. Running away from who you are. Running away from admitting your sexuality. Being up-front that you’re gay. That you’re a lesbian. Coming out!”

  “That’s just not true,” Carrie countered, her voice calm in spite of her raging headache. “We’ve been an item for nearly a year, we’ve been on demonstrations together, we’re known on the scene - ”

  Georgie grabbed her wallet and stuck it in her biker jacket. “We’re known where it’s safe, you mean. You’re ok when it’s safe to be two girls together.” She grabbed her boots. “But queer? No, darling. I don’t think so.”

  Carrie sagged against the kitchen table. “I can’t just party, party, party the way you do. There’s my work -”

  “The bank? Oh - the high and mighty bank. Mustn’t offend anyone there, must we?” Georgie’s voice was coldly sarcastic.

  “It’s the so-called high and mighty bank salary that’s allowing us to live in this high priced apartment and pay for the the lifestyle it appears that you like a lot,” Carrie answered icily, hating the conversation’s ugly turn.

  Georgie pulled her slouch beanie over her damp hair. For a moment Carrie saw her as she had looked the first moment they had met. Her heart had melted, and the first time they kissed later that evening she felt that she had found her soulmate. But her memory was dashed by Georgie’s parting words as she slammed the door.

  “You can fuck off then. You’ve always resented paying for this place. I’m going out without you - and don’t bother staying up for me!”

  Carrie stood for a moment. She and Georgie had been arguing too much for their relationship to take much more. Georgie never seemed able to land a permanent job, preferring temporary contracts. Carrie could easily afford the eye-watering mortgage and a fun lifestyle that saw them eating out most nights a w
eek, taking short haul holidays every other month or so, but Georgie always wanted more.

  They enjoyed a fabulous sex life: Georgie’s tongue and lithe body aroused Carrie more than any girl she had been with, but Carrie also discovered that Georgie was easily tempted, and she had never really forgiven Georgie for her recent infidelity a few months ago.

  “God - she’s hot, isn’t she?”

  Carrie didn’t mind Georgie looking at other girls, so long as it stopped there, and the Pink Lolly club that Friday was crowded. It was the Friday of a holiday weekend, and everyone was out to have a good time. She and Georgie had just moved into their apartment in Chelsea after being an item for almost a year.

  “Which one?”

  “There - at the end of the bar,” Georgie breathed. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

  “You’re hopeless, darling!” Carrie laughed, leaning across and kissing her on the lips. “C’mon - up for a dance?”

  The pulsing music was calling everyone onto the crowded dance area and in a few moments they were part of the swaying crowd of happy clubbers. But Carrie couldn’t help noticing the way the Georgie kept moving so that she could keep an eye on the girl she had eyed at the bar. Still, by the end of several tracks Carrie was hot, excited and ready for a break.

  “I want you to take me home and fuck me, darling!” she whispered, holding Georgie’s hard body close to her.

  Georgie hugged her. “See you in a minute, hon. Look after my jacket - I need to take a break.”

  Carrie watched her disappear across the club floor towards the rest room, and finished her drink.