Waking Up Gray

by R. E. Bradshaw

  Gray wasn’t finished. “They had been having an affair for a year. It began when I came here to watch my mother die. They even came to the funeral together. To top it all off, my dog was really sick and I had to leave him behind so she could take care of him. I packed. I left. I have only talked to her a few times since. The last time she called to tell me my dog died.”

  Gray hung her head and cried quietly. Lizbeth thought Gray was probably afraid to all out cry, too afraid just to let it all out, too scared she couldn’t stop if she did. Lizbeth had been there, too. It had taken her nearly five years to get back on her feet when she first discovered James’ infidelity. She spent the next five plotting her revenge and the last four reveling in it. Gray never got any revenge. Lizbeth rubbed her hand gently in circles on Gray’s back.

  Gray finally raised her tear-streaked face to Lizbeth and said, “I don’t want to fall in love with you. What good will it do either of us? You’ll go back to Durham and I’ll be here.”

  “Gray, I want you to listen very carefully to what I am about to say. Then you can make your decision. You have two choices. You can continue your life as it has been for the last almost five years, never letting anyone get too close. You can try to kill the loneliness by sleeping with strangers. It hasn’t worked, as far as I can tell, but you can keep trying. You can walk out that door right now and I promise you will not see me again.”

  Gray tried to interrupt, but Lizbeth put up her hand to silence her. Lizbeth continued, “Or, you can give us a shot. It isn’t perfect. Granted, there are some logistics to work out, but how will we know if we can work them out, if we don’t try?”

  Lizbeth took a deep breath, because she was laying all her cards on the table. If she bet wrong, this was all going to backfire miserably. “Gray, if you can walk away and not wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of your life, then do it. But I’m telling you, if kissing me feels anything to you like kissing you does to me, you’re going to wonder.”

  Lizbeth stood up, placed her wine glass on the table, and went All-In on the river card. “There’s the door. You can take it or you can follow me upstairs. That’s entirely up to you. Choose wisely.”

  Lizbeth held her breath as she walked away. She took an oil lamp from the mantel and climbed the stairs. She exhaled loudly, sitting on the edge of the bed to await the outcome of the ultimatum she had just given Gray. The house was deadly quiet except for the occasional creak or rattle caused by the wind. She heard Gray clear her throat and then set the wine glass on the table. Her heart sank when she heard Gray’s footsteps heading for the front door. Lizbeth had overplayed her hand.

  Lizbeth threw herself back on the bed. Her own tears flowed freely now. She never heard the door open and close, because she was too wrapped up in misery. She would be the one always wondering “what if.” Lizbeth would spend the rest of her life reliving the first seven days of knowing Gray and trying to forget them. Lizbeth couldn’t understand why this had happened at all. Here she was crying over a woman of all things. This was cruel and unusual punishment and Lizbeth thought that she had already had her fair share.

  Lizbeth felt the weight of someone sit down on the bed with her. She bolted upright to see Gray sitting there.

  “I heard you go to the door,” Lizbeth said in disbelief.

  Gray smiled and gently brushed a stray hair from Lizbeth’s face. “Lizbeth, I just went to lock the door.”

  “Then you’re not leaving?” Lizbeth asked, still not believing Gray was actually sitting there.

  “No, I’m not going anywhere,” Gray said.

  The amber light from the oil lamp flickered on the walls in the room. Gray’s eyes were dry now. The tears had been dried from her face, only a smear of moisture left on one cheek, glistened in the lamplight. Using the fingers of both hands, Lizbeth wiped her own wet face. Now that Gray was there, Lizbeth didn’t know what to do. She hadn’t thought beyond getting Gray to give in. They sat beside each other, looking into each other’s faces, neither speaking.

  There was a lot of soul-searching going on in that little bedroom. The wind had begun to howl against the windows. Rain was being driven sideways into the house and drumming loudly on the roof just above their heads. The cottage creaked around them. Earl was closing in. The storm outside played out in vivid symmetry with the whirling thoughts inside the room. Lizbeth sighed loudly.

  Gray smiled. She guessed Lizbeth’s quandary. Her mood was lifting and the twinkle was returning to her eyes. She reached again for Lizbeth’s face, tucking a stray wave of hair behind Lizbeth’s ear. She spoke softly, “Now that you’ve got me here, you don’t know what to with me, do you?”

  Lizbeth chuckled. “No, I hadn’t really thought it through, before I started talking.”

  Gray teased her. “What would you normally do in this situation?”

  “I’ve never been in this particular situation.”

  “What’s so unique about this one?” Gray asked, grinning broader now.

  Lizbeth blurted out, “Well, you’re a woman for one thing.”

  Gray raised one eyebrow, saying, “And?”

  “And… Well, I don’t know. I should say that’s plenty,” Lizbeth shot back.

  The island rogue began to pour on the charm. “That didn’t seem to bother you this afternoon.”

  “That was different. I remind you I was fully clothed.” Lizbeth’s voice raised an octave and her true deeply southern accent revealed itself. It always did when she got excited or stressed. She was both.

  Gray let out a sultry laugh, followed by, “Five more minutes and you wouldn’t have been.”

  The warm glow of anticipation once again returned to Lizbeth’s body. She was melting under the smoldering look Gray was giving her. Lizbeth’s inner Scarlet reappeared, batted her eyes, and said, “Gray O’Neal! My mother warned me about rogues like you.”

  Gray’s eyes bored into Lizbeth with pure lust. Lizbeth had awakened the sleeping beast and it was hungry. Gray turned and leaned into Lizbeth. Lizbeth withdrew, falling back on her elbows, overwhelmed with the full force of a seduction by Gray O’Neal. Gray kept coming, reaching over Lizbeth, which now pinned Lizbeth beneath her.

  Gray’s eyes were sparkling and behind them were not so veiled intentions. She was inches from Lizbeth’s face. In a voice that stopped Lizbeth’s heart in mid beat, deeper and dripping sex from each syllable, Gray said, “Your mother never warned you about me.”

  Not too many minutes later the windows rattled and the house shook, rivaling any noise ol’ Earl was making.

  Chapter Eight

  Lizbeth awoke the next morning enveloped by Gray. She was spooned into Gray’s naked body behind her. The memory of last night flooded into her and she blushed warm all over. Gray had been right. No one had ever warned Lizbeth about someone like her.

  Lizbeth couldn’t believe the places Gray had taken her. She made Lizbeth feel things she had never experienced, let alone knew existed. Gray’s lips and hands had explored Lizbeth’s body, driving Lizbeth over the edge repeatedly. Gray had begun with a full-fledged ravaging of Lizbeth and ended their night of lovemaking sweet and slow.

  Molly had been correct that Lizbeth would know what to do. After a complete and very thorough demonstration, by Gray, of what a woman could do to another woman, Lizbeth had no trouble following her lead. The sight of Gray’s naked body had been enough to quash any nervousness. Gray really did look like a Greek statue. Her skin was smooth, tightly sculpted over the surface of a long toned body. Gray’s skin under her fingertips was soft and silky, much different from any of Lizbeth’s previous lovers. Lizbeth found she couldn’t touch her enough.

  Gray was breathing deeply, still lost in sleep. Her arm was around Lizbeth, her hand cupping one of Lizbeth’s breasts. Lizbeth’s thoughts of their night together had heightened her awareness of Gray’s nakedness against her. She moved her body in a little closer to Gray’s, feeling her entire nervous system go on high alert. The thing that had caused it so much
pleasure was close by. Her body began to crave Gray’s hands, and that tongue, oh my.

  Lizbeth could stand it no longer. She turned over so she was facing Gray. She ran a fingertip down Gray’s jaw line and then touched her lips. Gray’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled, pulling Lizbeth closer to her.

  “Good morning,” Gray said softly.

  Lizbeth squirmed against Gray’s body, running a hand down her side to her hip. In a sexy, hushed voice, Lizbeth said, “I need you to wake up.”

  Gray slid her hand into the small of Lizbeth’s back and pulled Lizbeth’s pelvis in contact with hers. In one smooth move, Gray pushed her leg between Lizbeth’s, her thigh brushing up against Lizbeth’s now throbbing crotch. It had only taken seconds for Gray to turn Lizbeth into putty in her hands.

  Lizbeth only said, “Ummm,” as she began to move against Gray’s body.

  The charming grin showed itself, as Gray said, “You need me, huh?”

  Lizbeth let out a breathless, “Yes.”

  Gray laughed, then kissed Lizbeth down her neck and onto her chest, where she found Lizbeth’s breasts, who were on the inside screaming, “Pick me! Pick me!” In a matter of moments, Lizbeth was digging her fingernails into Gray’s back, repeating, “Oh God! Oh God!”

  #

  “Come on, Lizbeth. We have to get up.” Gray was standing, pulling on the covers that Lizbeth, who was still in the bed, held tightly.

  “I don’t want to get out of bed. I want to stay here all day,” Lizbeth whined.

  Gray dropped the covers and started putting on her clothes. Lizbeth reluctantly relented and got up.

  “I thought you wanted to stay in bed,” Gray teased.

  “Not without you and you seem hell bent on getting up, so I guess I have no choice.”

  Gray, who was only wearing her shorts, took the still naked Lizbeth in her arms. “Okay, here’s the deal. I need to check in with Fanny and see about my boats. I’m going to go across the street, take a shower, grab you some breakfast, and then I’ll be right back. Unless you want to come with me.”

  Lizbeth grinned. “No, I don’t think I could get this just fucked look off my face. Fanny would know.”

  “She probably already does,” Gray said, laughing.

  “I guess she knows you pretty well. She did call you the village tomcat.”

  “About that,” Gray said, suddenly serious. “I’ll admit to being… let’s just say a little cavalier of late with my love life, but I want you to know this is different.”

  Lizbeth tightened her arms around Gray’s waist. “I could tell.”

  Gray grinned. “And how’s that?”

  “Because if I had been one of your conquests you would have slept with me the night you took me to the Sound, but you didn’t even try. You kept leaving me at my doorstep.” Lizbeth added, giggling, “I was beginning to wonder.”

  Gray laughed loudly. “Oh, you need not have worried. I had impure thoughts about you from the first moment I saw you.”

  “What took you so long?” Lizbeth said, squeezing one of the cheeks of Gray’s ass.

  “I told you, you were different. Fanny knew it, too. She kept dropping hints.”

  Lizbeth cocked her head to one side. “Why, what did she say?”

  “She told me yesterday morning that I could mope around for the rest of my life, or I could open my eyes and see what was right in front of me. Not too subtle, huh?”

  Lizbeth thought a second, then asked, “What will she think of me? She won’t think I’m one of those women running around here throwing themselves at you, will she?”

  “No, she’ll know you’re special,” Gray said, her eyes twinkling.

  “How’s that?”

  “She knows I don’t spend the night,” Gray answered.

  “Ever?” Lizbeth asked.

  Gray kissed Lizbeth on the lips and then pulled her into a tight hug, whispering in her ear, “Never.”

  #

  Gray brought over sausage biscuits from Fanny’s kitchen. She was wearing her customary board shorts, and added a sweatshirt against the still blowing wind outside. Her hair was wet. Gray had hurried. Lizbeth had also taken a shower, putting on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, and a light sweater for the chill. With the windows boarded up the cottage was dark and cold.

  Lizbeth suggested they eat on the front porch. Luckily, Lizbeth discovered that her kitchen came with a stovetop coffee pot and was equipped with a gas stove. She poured them each a cup and followed Gray to the front door. Gray stopped before opening the door, turning to kiss Lizbeth sweetly on the lips, and then they went out into the tropical storm weather that remained from Earl’s passing.

  Howard Street was shielded, but Lizbeth could hear the more powerful winds whistling through the treetops. It had rained hard in the night and brief periods of rain were expected all day. Gray had gotten a full report on the storm from Fanny, who was up early this morning, getting a damage report from the locals walking back and forth in front of her house.

  Gray was laughing when she said, “Yeah, she made some wisecrack about me being too lazy to see to my own boats, so she had to ask on the street.”

  “She’s quite feisty for her age,” Lizbeth commented. “Have you ever known her to miss a sunrise?”

  Gray darkened a little, before answering, “Only on the day my granddaddy died. Momma said they weren’t up when she came downstairs, so she went to check on them and Fanny was lying there, just holding his hand. He’d passed in the night. That’s the only time I know of.”

  Lizbeth sighed. “She must have really loved him.”

  Gray’s eyes misted over. “Yes, she did, very much. I never heard a cross word between them. There was plenty of teasing and lots of laughter, but never a raised voice.”

  “That’s so sweet.” Lizbeth wished for a love like that, a lifetime with the one person you were meant to love. Fanny had been lucky and found hers when she was a teenager. They had lived more than a half a century together and Fanny had loved Laurence until the day he died. It seemed the O’Neal women loved hard and long.

  Gray changed the subject. “Fanny says the word is minimal damage. The dock down at the Harbor Inn fell in some. A tree went down on a roof, but didn’t punch through. The tide came up in places but it’s gone now. We stayed pretty dry here on Howard.”

  “How hard did the wind blow?”

  “Gusted up to near seventy, they say. Knocked the power out for good around four in the morning.”

  Lizbeth winked over the edge of her coffee cup. “I didn’t notice.”

  Gray chuckled. “We were kinda busy.”

  Lizbeth blushed, a memory flashing in her mind. She finished her biscuit, thinking about the next memory she was going to make with the sexy blonde seated beside her. Lizbeth ran the back of her hand along Gray’s forearm absentmindedly, as her thoughts of Gray pressed against her took on a life of their own.

  Gray put her hand over Lizbeth’s to stop it from moving. Gray’s eyes revealed the thoughts she was having, too. Her voice was smoky when she said, “Just hold that thought. We have to go check the boats and then I plan on spending the rest of this rainy day in bed with you.”

  Thrilled at the prospects, Lizbeth leapt to her feet. “Well, let’s go.”

  Gray squirmed in the chair. She looked a little distressed. “Give me a minute.”

  Lizbeth asked, “What’s wrong?”

  Gray shifted in her seat again. “Nothing’s wrong.” She grinned up at Lizbeth. “I just need a sec.”

  It dawned on Lizbeth that Gray couldn’t move because she was as horny as Lizbeth. Lizbeth took no pity on her. She moved closer, stepping in between Gray’s open legs, touching one of her calves to Gray’s. Lizbeth batted her eyes and said, “Is it anything I could help you with?”

  Gray swallowed hard. In an instant, she stood up, grabbed Lizbeth’s hand, and pulled her back into the cottage. Once inside the cottage, Lizbeth turned into the aggressor. She yanked at Gray’s sweatshirt, pushi
ng it up over Gray’s chest. Gray obliged by taking it the rest of the way off. They banged down the wall, across the room, and onto the couch.

  Lizbeth’s fingers made quick work of the little cotton string at the waist of Gray’s shorts. Gray slid out of her shorts and underwear with Lizbeth’s assistance. Lizbeth stood up, peeled off her sweater, and threw it across the room. Her shirt followed shortly after. Lizbeth’s pants and underpants took Gray one swift tug to remove.

  Gray, who was sitting on the couch, pulled Lizbeth down onto her lap, Lizbeth’s knees straddling Gray. Gray was strong and she moved Lizbeth around like a feather, but she was gentle with her, taking her time, building the tension to a climax of earth shattering proportions. She held Lizbeth with one hand in the small of her back, the other between her legs, as Lizbeth arched backwards in a shuddering orgasm and then fell forward against Gray’s chest.

  Gray moved her arms to wrap them around Lizbeth while she tried to catch her breath. Little shivers of delight repeatedly cascaded through Lizbeth. She didn’t know just how much further Gray could take her before she just keeled over and died from pure pleasure. Gray was a skilled and practiced lover. Lizbeth didn’t begrudge her those other women. Gray had honed her skills and Lizbeth was reaping the benefits.

  Lizbeth had also discovered that giving was as good as getting. When she had stopped trembling and caught her breath, she pushed Gray down on the couch and had her way with her. Gray groaned loudly when her back arched off the couch, sending shockwaves through Lizbeth. Gray came and Lizbeth with her, falling into Gray’s body. They lay there, not speaking, trying to calm their breathing.

  Lizbeth’s head rested on Gray’s chest. Their legs were entwined. Gray ran a hand through Lizbeth’s hair. Very few times, Lizbeth had seen into Gray’s heart. Gray covered her true emotions with humor and the island rogue persona, but every now and then, she said something that sounded heartfelt. This was one of those times.