by Sally Graham
“It’s just that - I love you, and I love you so much it hurts. And I’m scared. You’re making me feel so happy - it’s different to anything - anyone - I’ve been with before. I - I don’t want to mess up.”
Blake paused, her heart thumping, as she listened in the silence. “You mean, you’re worried that there’s someone left on the planet that you haven’t slept with?” She felt Carrie smile in the darkness. “If I thought for one moment you were still going to chase someone else,” Blake went on in the darkness, “there’s a pair of blunt sheep shearing shears in the shed. And I’ll come after you. I’m warning you!”
Carrie laughed and kissed her tenderly, and rolled over beside her. “I’m serious. I’ve never felt so committed. So desperate for this to work, for both of us. Ever since we met I’ve felt different. Different about other women.” She propped herself up on one elbow. “I don’t think I knew the meaning of the word ‘love’ until I met you!”
Blake leaned over again and hugged Carrie, pulling her back on top of her. She felt Carrie’s lips on hers, felt her tongue searching for hers, felt her heart beating against her own.
“I love you so much,” Carrie whispered again. “So much.”
“Please, I need you to kiss me again,” Blake said. “Please, Carrie.” She felt carrie take a breath and start to whisper. “No, you don’t have to say anything my darling.”
Carrie squeezed her arm, her fingers pressing into Blake’s flesh. “We can’t lose each other now. We’ve got to be together always. With no secrets, no shadows.” Her voice sounded as strong to Blake as the granite that held the glens together around them in the darkness. “I promise, darling.”
Blake hardly dared breathe; she had never wanted to give herself as deeply as she felt now. “We’re together now, Carrie. And we’re going to be. For always. For ever.”
Carrie moved softly down the bed until her lips found Blake’s breast. She heard Blake sigh, like the breeze softening over reeds and rushes by the loch’s side, and then the sigh deepened into a groan, the way that the wind changed from a gentle breeze to a strong gale on a summer’s evening, high in the glen.
But Blake knew that it was for her to take Carrie, for her to conquer Carrie in a way that had never happened to the banker before. Until this night, this blessed darkness, Blake had never felt she could enjoy sex with another woman in her own right. She had always allowed her hang-ups and fears to dictate how she responded to someone else’s advances. But now, as a primal surge of passion coursed through her, she wriggled from underneath Carrie.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Carrie’s voice was frightened. “Darling - ”
“Shhh - it’s okay. Keep the bed warm for me. I’m looking for something.”
Carrie heard Blake opening a drawer and search around. Then the drawer was closed, and there was the sound of something being placed on the oak dresser. Carrie strained her eyes; she could just see Carrie bending over to reach for something, the smoothness of her back, her thighs and legs melding into one tantalising, indistinct and barely visible, outline. She was tempted to tiptoe across, to hold Blake in the night, feel her breasts under her hands, press her belly against Blake’s back, bury her mouth in the soft nape of her neck.
There was a quick movement, the sound of a match being struck, a flash as the match ignited, and Carrie was momentarily dazzled by the sudden flare, her eyes barely taking in the vision of Blake standing naked in front of her as though lit by a flash of lightning, before the soft glow of a large three-wicked bees-wax candle spread its reassuring softness around them.
Blake straightened up and turned around slowly. Carrie was sitting up in bed, her hair tangled, shielding her eyes against the sudden light, her lips parted first in wonder, then in delight, as Blake walked forward a few steps, took a deep breath, and slowly raised her arms to the ceiling so that her fingertips almost touched the pine beams.
“How do I look?” she whispered.
Carrie didn’t - couldn’t - speak. The woman in front of her stood tall, unafraid, confident, and indescribably sexy. Blake was standing with her feet slightly apart, and Carrie’s eyes drank in her ankles, and calves, and thighs that led her to the dark curls of her pubic hair which crowned her swelling lips, pink-purple in the flickering light.
“Do you still want me?” Blake’s voice was husky, throaty, and she lowered her arms slowly, turning them slightly until the thin skeins of scar tissue caught the light.
As if in a trance, her blood pounding, Carrie pushed the rest of the sheet away from her to the end of the bed, and walked across the bare floorboards towards Blake, her feet soundless on the polished wood. Wordlessly, she kissed Blake’s neck, her throat, her ear, hardly daring to kiss her lips until Blake pulled her close.
Carrie’s tongue searched for Blake’s, while she trailed her fingers down Blake’s arms, down her firm, toned muscles and then over the faint ridges that criss-crossed her forearm, uncaring and unconcerned. Blake was kissing her back with an intensity and ardour that betrayed her growing desire, but Carrie pulled away, in spite of Blake’s whimper of frustration, and bent down, slowly, to trail her tongue along each line, each silver thread etched across her forearm in the flickering candlelight.
She felt Blake stiffen for an instant, but then she relaxed and pressed herself against Carrie who went on worshipping the softness beneath her lips. “I love all of you, every line, every scar, every memory…..” Her voice trailed away as she kneeled further and buried her face between Blake’s legs, who moaned with delight, thrusting her hips forward.
Carrie brought the palms of her hands down Blake’s waist, past her hips, and rested them, fleetingly, on her thighs before reaching around to grip Blake’s bottom, soft and full, to pull her hard against her mouth.
Blake moaned and bent her knees slightly, moving slowly up and down, her breath guttural with desire as Carrie’s tongue drove inward, pressing forward and thrusting as deep as she could into Blake’s wet heat. She tasted of heather, and honey, and clear loch water; of the pure highland air, and the frothing burn that cascaded down the glen.
As if from miles away, as though Blake was standing on the peak of Ben Ruachan itself, Carrie heard Blake’s voice calling her to their bed, and felt her hands reach behind for hers to guide her as she stood up. They kissed hungrily for a moment, and then - laughing with delight and pleasure - flung themselves back on to the bed, the candle light casting flickering shadows of feverish abandon on the white washed wall behind them.
Chapter 17
Eighteen months later
“Hold my hand.”
“You are so pathetically romantic. Is this the same girl who wouldn’t let me see her naked?”
“Is this the woman who had to chase somebody different every night?”
Blake and Carrie walked slowly down the track towards the Firth. Romy dived into clumps of reeds to pursue real or imagined prey; to their right, a sea gull perched on the gate bar of a new building whose timber walls glowed in the sunlight.
“We should get the last one completed in a fortnight,” said Carrie, pointing to another wooden house that was still surrounded by scaffolding. “The other three are booked solid for the rest of the season.”
“That’s good news. We ned the the cash flow. And that will please Dad.”
“David’s really enjoying ‘cooking the books’ as he calls it, keeping an eye on the accounts.” Carrie turned to Blake. “You know, asking your father if he’d like to move up here was such a good idea. I never thought he would leave London.”
“I think once Hazel died there was nothing for him in the south, and he’d had enough of the law. He was looking forward to retirement, but he wanted something to do, too. And his asthma is so much better, being here. Besides, having him in the east wing of Dundrannan means we can get away. And I can’t wait.”
Carrie squeezed Blake’s hand. “Nor can I. I’ve never been to New Zealand. It’ll be good to meet your other family. And then th
ere’s that little hideaway I’ve booked. We haven’t had a break since I moved up here.”
Blake pouted her lips. “How can you say that? What about that weekend in Venice? You told me you’d never been before you met me because you could only visit the city with your lover, and you never had one! We had a great time!”
“Maybe for you - dragging me around the palazzos and piazzas when I just wanted to lie in bed and make love. There won’t be any distractions where I’ve booked, I can promise you. It’ll be non-stop sex!”
Blake tapped Carrie’s bottom affectionately. “Correction. It’ll be non-stop love. There is a difference, remember?”
“I know,” Carrie answered, her voice serious. “And you taught me that, my darling.”
They reached the line of seaweed that marked the water mark of the last high tide, and turned around. Dundrannan’s stepped gables and small turrets rose above the dark green spruce tree line and formed a backdrop to the rough pasture that sloped towards them.
“Look at those llamas,” Carrie laughed. “They look as though they own the place sometimes, with their heads in the air. They look so snooty!
“They can be as snobbish as they like,” Blake answered, “so long as their wool fetches a good price. They seem to like being further up the hill in the summer. People get a shock: they wonder what the sheep have been eating until they realise what they’re looking at!”
Just then there was a high pitched whine that came from the direction of the sawmill hidden in the trees, and a flight of birds skittered out of the trees in surprise.
“When will we hear if we’ve got the architecture award for the holiday houses?” Blake asked, looking at the low timber buildings that fronted the loch.
“Maybe we will, maybe we won’t. It’s a long shot. We tick all the boxes - sustainable living, eco-friendly, boosting local tourism and so on. But who knows?” Carrie said, picking up a piece of wood and throwing it for Romy to chase.
“Who knows?” Blake echoed, stopping by the gate that led back to the house. “Who knows how things ever work out in life?”
Carrie put her arm around Blake’s waist as they walked further along the shore, their boots scrunching on the pebbles, the waves running up, and then falling away from them with a soft, lapping sound.
After a few steps they stopped, and looked at each other.
“You don’t know how things will work out until they do,” Blake whispered, and laid her head on Carrie’s shoulder. “And they’ve worked out perfectly for us.”
Carrie stood still, and then lifted Blake’s chin. “You’re right,” she murmured, stroking her cheek before kissing her lips. “It’s worked out perfectly. And all because of you. Because of the way you are.”
Blake looked at her. “No, my darling. Because it’s way we are.”
They kissed each other tenderly, and then turned, slowly, and walked back towards Dundrannan, together.
The End
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The Runner on the Sand
Have you read The Runner On The Sand yet?
This was my first lesfic novella - and still one of my favourites.
I hope you enjoy it too.
From the Amazon site:
“Two women meet by accident. One is a computer professional who has built her own firewalls to keep people out. The other creates advertisers’ dreams but yearns for real love. Is it really possible to leave the past behind?”
You can buy it on Amazon.com and Amazon.co.uk or your local Amazon site.
Here are some comments from Amazon readers:
“Life can really throw you curves but sometimes those blind spots are what help. This story is a sweet reminder that no matter what happens your heart can help you heal. Wonderfully written.”
“Sasha is an TV editor who nurses a broken heart and Chandler is a computer genius and ex military who is grieving....it's spicy and hot.”
“A very good book about how lucky it is to find love the second time around. “
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Sally
Dolceacqua, Italy, 2019
Three hot lesbian romances
THREE HOT LESBIAN ROMANCES
The Florence Trilogy
These novels follow the lives and loves of four gay women, Cal, Lena, Paola and Manda as they love and support each other in Florence, Italy’s most beautiful city.
If you love lesbian romance, banter between friends, hot scenes in the bedroom and a lyrical Italian backdrop, you’ll love these three stories.
‘More Than She Dared’ tells how Cal and Lena got together, while ‘Oh My Love’ tracks Paola and Manda’s tempestuous love affair. Circle of Love - well, I’ll leave it for you to discover!
There are 350 pages to enjoy - so put on your pyjams, snuggle down and binge!
If you love the heartbeat of lesbian romance, don't miss this emotionally gripping series!
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A note on self harm
Hello - I based Blake’s self-harming on a member of my family who harmed herself in her teens. She is absolutely fine now, but if this story reminded you of unhappy times, or you know someone who has gone down this path, do reach out to them, and search on the Internet in your country for the help that is available.
Support is out there.
Sally x
Legals
© Sally Graham 2019
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by nay means, electronic or mechanical, including printing, photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction originally published as The Beautiful Shepherd (c) 2016. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organisations events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Lite Bite Publishing 2019