by Roz Lee
“It’s getting kind of late. I think I’ll go on home. One piece of chocolate isn’t going to kill me.”
She stood as Rachel gathered her things. “I’m serious. There’s a first-class gym here in the building. We could get in a workout then come back here. But I understand if you have other plans….”
Her guest paused with her hand on her coat. “I don’t have any plans.” She glanced at the bubbly and heart-shaped box on the coffee table. “Maybe if I put in a mile or two on the treadmill, I wouldn’t feel too bad about having a few chocolates.”
She couldn’t remember ever being as nervous on a first date. This isn’t a date. It’s a—she didn’t know what it was, but it sounded a lot more fun than watching chick flicks by herself. “You can borrow some of my workout clothes if you—”
“Thanks, but I have mine.” She lifted the tote bag she’d brought with her. “My original plan was to go straight there after work.”
“Then we’re all set. The bathroom’s that way.” She pointed to the hallway leading off the living area. “I’ll put the champagne in the fridge to chill while we’re gone.”
Sophia tied her cross-trainers, replaced the lid on the tempting chocolates then took the sparkling wine and roses to the kitchen. Since she didn’t cook much, finding a place in the refrigerator for the bottle was easy. Finding a vase for the flowers proved more difficult. After locating one in the far reaches of the corner cabinet, she arranged the bouquet and set it on the bar.
“He has good taste.” Rachel stood in the pathway between the kitchen and living room. With her blonde hair swept up into a high ponytail, she resembled Workout Barbie in black spandex. Sophia felt like a pudgy fraud in her yoga pants and loose-fitting T-shirt.
Yes, Damon has very good taste. She swallowed hard. “Yes, he does.” She fiddled with the roses. “The bubbly looks expensive, too. Though you could put all I know about wines on a three-by-five note card and still have room for a tutorial.”
“I’m an expert on wine.”
“Really? What’s the most important thing I should know?”
Her smile lit up the room. “It tastes best if you drink it from a glass.”
“Oh, you!” Sophia laughed.
“What? You already knew that?”
She wiped tears from her eyes. “Everyone knows that.”
“Is there anything else a person needs to know?”
“I don’t think so. Unless it’s how many bottles you can buy for twenty bucks. That’s a big one in my book.”
“Good point.”
She reached for a dish towel and wiped down the counter top where she’d spilled some water while filling the vase. She smiled at her guest. “Thanks for the laugh. I guess I kind of needed that. It’s been a long time.”
Rachel’s smile dimmed, and she looked away. “Yeah, well. I’m ready to go. How about you?”
“Let me grab a water bottle.” She withdrew two chilled plastic bottles from the fridge, handing one to her new friend. “All set.”
They chose treadmills side-by-side despite the gym being deserted. Sophia started out at a slow walk while her companion began with jog, quickly switching to a punishing run. She’d never keep up with that pace, wasn’t even going to try. One advantage of a slow, steady pace was that she could watch her companion without risk of falling off the machine.
She’d always been a sucker for an athletic body, and her workout buddy more than fit the bill. It was all she could do not to drool at the sight of bouncing breasts and sweaty skin on display. Determined not to get caught gawking at a virtual stranger, she plugged in her earbuds and flicked through the television channels available on the treadmill’s built-in monitor. Settling on a local news channel, she tried to focus on the reports of murder, theft, and assault while the woman next to her powered through her workout like the hounds of hell were nipping at her feet.
Sophia would have given anything to be able to run like a gazelle, but her body wasn’t built that way. A brisk walk followed by a group exercise class—that was more her style. But this was Friday and there were no classes scheduled. Determined to keep her mind off the hot body on the neighboring machine, she switched over to an audio station that looped fast-paced music then kicked up the speed on the rotating belt. Exhaustion was her only hope of getting through the evening without making a fool of herself with a woman she hardly new.
Idiot. You never should have invited her to hang out.
Rachel had to be approaching a five-mile run, and Sophia had managed less than two. Determined to work herself into a numb state, she jabbed her finger at the increase-speed button only to be caught off guard when the front of the platform rose. Alarmed, she grabbed for the handrails, but it was too late. Her center of gravity shifted, propelling her backward, her feet tangling. One minute she was jogging along like she knew what she was doing—the next she was on her butt, one foot in the air, the other twisted painfully beneath her. Somewhere in the midst of her flight, her arms had flayed and an embarrassing squeal came from her lips.
With the emergency kill-button ripped from its moorings, the treadmill slowed to a stop. Rachel aborted her run and, in an instant, knelt beside her. “Are you okay? Oh my God! What happened?”
“I don’t know. I must have punched the wrong button.” She glanced up at the offending machine. “I meant to increase the speed but hit the incline button instead. I should have looked closer, I guess.”
The woman’s hands were all over her, checking for injuries. Sophia groaned, as much from the probing touch as from the sharp pain radiating from her ankle. “Oh God. You’re hurt.”
“My ankle. I think I twisted it.” Rachel helped her straighten her legs. Sure enough, her left ankle had already begun to swell. “Shit.”
“Do you think it’s broken?”
“No. It hurts, but not broken-bone hurt. I think it’s just sprained.”
“We’ve got to get you upstairs. Get some ice on that.”
“I can walk.” She managed to stand, but when she tried to put weight on her left foot, pain shot up her leg. Rachel moved in, catching her before she crumpled to the floor. Ripples of sexual awareness traveled across her skin, settling deep in the pit of her stomach. Inappropriate, Sophia. Get your mind out of the gutter.
“Come on.” With her helper supporting her left side, they inched their way back up to her apartment. Bypassing the sofa, they headed straight to the bed. After removing Sophia’s shoe and propping the injured ankle on a pillow, Rachel headed for the kitchen to get an icepack.
Sophia closed her eyes and stifled another groan. Her ankle wasn’t the only thing throbbing. Having Rachel’s hands on her, feeling her body pressed close and inhaling her scent, and knowing she had no right to want what she wanted hurt more than her abused ankle. Those capable hands brushing the underside of her breast as she helped lift her weight had ignited a fire inside her. It seemed her tight-fitting workout clothes did nothing to protect her from the sensation of the other woman’s touch.
She could still feel Rachel’s hip rubbing against hers as they’d stumbled their way to the elevator and back to Sophia’s apartment. God, how she wanted to rub up against her again. But that wasn’t going to happen. She was probably in the kitchen, plotting her escape from the klutzy woman who couldn’t even stay upright on a treadmill. Sexy, athletic types didn’t go for inept, out-of-shape types like her.
Rachel braced her hands on the edge of the counter and willed her body to calm down. Shit. She never should have touched Sophia. Having her hands on that soft, curvy body made her want more, and Lord, she had no right to want more.
She’d been watching her out of the corner of her eye, admiring the way her generous breasts bounced with every step she took, and imagining how they would feel in her palms. In an effort to keep her libido under control, she’d pushed herself hard, running faster and longer than usual. The extra-hard workout had her muscles screaming but had done nothing to ease her growing attraction to her hos
tess. Then, the other woman had lost her balance. Before she could shut off her own machine to assist, her workout partner had landed on her ass.
Holding that luscious body next to hers, bumping hips, and feeling the weight of her tit on the back of her hand all the way back to the apartment had been sweet torture. There’d been no choice, though. The woman had needed her help. Still needed her.
Rachel rummaged through cabinets and drawers until she found a box of plastic storage bags. Opening the freezer door, she leaned in, letting the cold air cool her heated skin for a minute before filling the bag with cubes from the built-in ice maker.
Zipping the bag closed, she sighed. There was no way around it. Even if she hadn’t already agreed to hang out for the evening, she couldn’t leave her new friend alone with a sprained ankle. She’d just have to keep her desires under control until she could get the hell out.
Grabbing a dish towel to wrap the ice pack in and a glass of water, she headed back to her patient.
“Got you some ice.” She held up the clear bag. “And some water. Got something for the pain? Ibuprofen maybe? It will help with the swelling.” She adjusted the ice pack so it wouldn’t slip off.
“Thanks. There’s a bottle of generic ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet.”
“Don’t move. I’ll get it for you.”
Smooth, Rach. Like she’s going anywhere. She found the bottle, shook two brown tablets into her palm then placed the bottle back in the cabinet. Her gaze landed on an elastic bandage on an upper shelf. Remembering something she’d heard before about treating sprains, she grabbed the roll. When she returned, Sophia was bent, trying to readjust the ice pack. “What are you doing?”
“It slid off.”
She almost laughed at the woman’s petulant tone. “Here. Take these.” She handed over the painkillers. Holding the rolled bandage up, she said, “The recipe for treating a sprain is RICE—rest, ice, compression, and elevation. This should take care of the compression and hold the ice pack in place, too.”
Sophia downed the ibuprofen then returned the water glass to the nightstand. “Before you put that thing on, can you help me get out of these clothes? Once the ice pack is strapped to my leg, I won’t be able to get these pants off, and I hate sitting around in sweaty workout gear.”
Her blood went from simmer to boil in an instant. Oh, no. Her palms had been itching to touch those generous curves since the woman first opened the door. Undressing her and not indulging her desires would be too much to handle.
Sophia’s gaze met hers. Her libido was playing tricks on her. The desire swirling in the other woman’s eyes had to be a product of her own lusty imagination. They’d only known each other for two hours, tops. Sure, she’d felt an attraction for her the minute she laid eyes on her, but imagining the woman had the same feeling bordered on insanity. She had to put the brakes on her desire before she did something stupid, like rip the woman’s clothes off and see if her skin was as soft as she imagined it was. “Seriously?”
Heat crept from Sophia’s chest up to her cheeks. She was an idiot. She’d known it was too much to ask for a goddess like Rachel to be attracted to someone like her, but she’d given it a shot anyway, practically inviting the woman to undress her. Smooth. And beyond embarrassing to be turned down. The woman had actually taken a step back as if afraid the dumpy woman on the bed with a sprained ankle might leap up and grab her.
“I’m sorry. That was the lamest come-on ever. Please, forget I said anything.” She adjusted the pillows at her back for something to do so she didn’t have to look at the woman she’d just propositioned. The shock on her face when she’d asked for her help was something she would remember in the future—like every time she considered approaching someone she was interested in. “I appreciate your help, but I can take it from here.”
The edge of the bed dipped, and she looked up to find the blonde sitting beside her. “Here. Let me help you with that.”
She froze, her hands still on the pillows, her gaze locked with Rachel’s. Heat blazed in those brown eyes. Shock gave way to something else—something hot and maybe a bit uncertain. “You don’t have to…if you don’t want to.”
Her lips lifted on one side. “I want to…if you do.”
They weren’t talking about pillow fluffing or removing sweaty clothing anymore. “We just met.”
“Two hours ago,” the goddess agreed as she reached for the hem of Sophia’s shirt. “I know. Crazy, huh?”
“Crazy.”
She raised her arms above her head. Pink spandex blinded her for a moment then it was gone, exposing her breasts encased in a hot-pink sports bra.
“I tried to tell myself it was too soon, but ever since you opened the door I’ve been thinking about what you would look like naked.”
“I’m fat.”
“Christ! Why does every woman with flesh on her bones think she’s fat?” Her gaze traveled over Sophia’s torso. “I wish I was built like you, but I got the skinny genes.”
“You aren’t skinny. You’re athletic. Sleek.” She longed to see her naked. “Two things I’ll never be.”
“I wouldn’t want you the way I do if you were.” Rachel traced a finger over Sophia’s bra, bringing her nipples to life beneath the heavy fabric. “I like something to hold onto.”
Breathless, she didn’t even try to respond to the woman’s comment. Instead, she closed her eyes and sank back into the pillows, inviting more of her touch. The same capable hands that had tended to her ankle caressed her breasts, testing their weight, measuring their size. Moaning, Sophia arched into her embrace.
“I want to see all of you.” She slid the bra straps down to trap Sophia’s arms at her sides. “Raise up. Let’s get this thing off.”
As soon as she obeyed, Rachel wrapped her arms around her. But instead of releasing the back clasp on her bra, she held her for a moment, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder that sent waves of desire skittering across Sophia’s skin. “You smell so good. And, Christ, you taste even better.”
Wanting to sample her, too, she nuzzled against her neck. Her firm skin smelled of exertion from her recent workout, and beneath that, lingered a citrusy note that reminded her of her favorite lemon cake. She swiped her tongue out then immediately went back for more of the salty sweetness she’d captured with the first lick.
“Sheesh, woman.” The goddess tilted her head to the side, allowing for a more thorough examination of her neck. “If you want candy, there’s a box full in the other room.”
“This is better.” She pressed her open mouth to the pulse point beneath her ear and sucked.
Groaning, Rachel attacked Sophia’s neck while her fingers worked the wide band of her bra loose. As her breasts sprang free of the confining garment, Sophia gasped with relief, only to gasp again when the woman took one aching peak in her mouth.
Sophia slid her hands up to bracket Rachel’s head—half holding on for dear life in the storm of feelings rushing her body, and half needing to guide her to the other breast. Wanting to feel her long hair, she pulled on the elastic band. Waves of blonde strands cascaded over her arms, carrying that same citrus scent she already craved. The very tips brushed featherlight across her abdomen. Falling back on the pillows again, she brought Rachel down with her.
“Feels. So. Good.” She’d forgotten all about her ankle until the other woman bumped her leg while attempting to crawl on top of her. She cried out as pain knifed through her leg.
Rachel braced over her. “Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I forgot all about your ankle.”
“I’d forgotten about it, too,” she admitted. “Please, don’t stop.”
“We’ve got to do something about your ankle.” She moved off to the side. “As you said, these pants need to go.”
Rachel paused with her fingers curled beneath the waistband. “Are you sure?”
Sophia’s heart raced at the softly asked question. Only a candidate for the loony bin got naked with someone they’d met hours earlier
. But there was something about this woman that made her want to do crazy things—to take chances in a way she never had before. Looney bin, here I come. “I’m sure.”
“I’ll be careful, I promise.”
Pain shot up her leg when she raised her hips. She bit down on her lower lip, but a small cry still escaped as Rachel tugged the tight capri-style pants along with her panties past her hips. Warm lips kissing a spot halfway between her belly button and her mound startled another cry from her lips.
“Sorry for hurting you. The worst should be over.” A soft hand stroked her rounded belly. “You’re beautiful.”
The blast of heat from her touch made Sophia forget all about her injured ankle. She groaned and tightened her stomach muscles.
“Let’s get these off. The sooner we stabilize your ankle, the sooner we can get to other things.” She shot Sophia a look that was more lecher than concerned nurse. She’d never had a medical fantasy before, but one was quickly forming in her mind. God, Rachel would be hot in a naughty-nurse uniform.
Beginning with her uninjured leg, Rachel peeled the body-hugging fabric away, kissing every inch of exposed skin as she went. Sophia endured by pressing one fisted hand to her mouth and biting down. The slightest movement on her part reminded her to remain still, but that was nearly impossible with Rachel’s lips on her and the woman’s hair tickling and arousing her sensitized skin.
Once the garment slid free of her swollen ankle, Rachel wrapped the stretchy bandage in a figure eight around her ankle, below the arch of her foot and back again. Replacing the ice pack, she used the last length of the bandage to secure the pack in place.
“There you go. Not too tight, is it?” The woman fondled Sophia’s foot, stroking and poking at the flesh. “Nice and pink, which means good blood flow.”
She raised to her elbows to get a better look. “Thanks. It feels better already.”