High Note (Pitch Perfect Book 2)

by H. L. Logan

  Her kisses came down to my chest, and she flicked her tongue against my nipples, cupping my breasts and squeezing gently. I moaned softly, the sensation unexpected, and closed my eyes and lay back as I realized she was going down, further down, her fingers flicking against my lips.

  Was she finally going to touch me?

  I hoped so. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had give me an orgasm—and certainly not someone I actually cared about, someone who wanted to make me feel good. Knowing that this was Brianne, and not just any random person, was even more of a turn on.

  Brianne reached down and stroked my clit, spitting on her fingers so she’d be lubricated. Not that she needed the help—I was already dripping wet with desire for her. And to have her hand on my most intimate place… it blew my mind. The feeling was incredible, and I was already so wet that I thought I was going to explode.

  But I had to hold on until Brianne actually put her fingers inside me. When she did, when her finger tips reached my very core, I whimpered, amazed at the feeling. I didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good.

  “This… this is incredible,” I said, figuring I should say something to let Brianne know she was doing a fantastic job.

  She just looked up at me and smiled, her fingers slick with my juices, her eyes languid and almost smug. It was devastatingly sexy.

  I was surprised I could actually keep myself under control as she used her fingers to bring me closer and closer to the edge, where I was threatening to fall off, into the freefall of pleasure…

  “I’m going to—” I said, cut off as the orgasm overtook me. I moaned as I shuddered, trying to hold myself still against the bed, though Brianne held me tight.

  I was left panting and covered in a sheen of sweat.

  Brianne smiled at me with an eyebrow raised. “Good, huh?”

  I laughed, tension leaving my body. “Yeah. Yeah, that was fucking great,” I said, still amazed at what had just happened. “Maybe… maybe I can return the favor?”

  “Yeah? Show me what you got,” said Brianne, and we switched positions so I could return the favor. I was so eager to pleasure her like she’d just pleasured me.

  She had a gorgeous pussy too, and I was excited to finally touch it. I pressed my fingers to her clit, loving the velvety feeling of her lips and her natural scent of arousal. I felt like I was being granted a privilege, somehow, that I was being allowed entrance into some closed off part of Brianne’s world. She seemed like a reserved person and I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t the kind of person to get intimate with others too easily.

  I looked up briefly and saw her eyes closed, a lazy smile on her face. She was cupping her own breasts and rolling her nipple between her fingers, which was a gorgeous sight. She looked so beautiful that my clit twitched again, amazingly signaling that I might be getting aroused yet again. I turned my attention back to her core, fondling her clit with my finger tips and sliding my fingers inside her. I was rewarded with a soft moan, which only spurred me on further.

  I could feel her body tensing, and I knew she was getting close. I slowly increased my pace and stayed at the same rhythm. Even though I didn’t have any experience doing this to another person, I had the same parts, so I felt fairly confident with what I was doing.

  A louder moan from Brianne warned me that she was going to come, and then she did, her sounds of pleasure music to my ears. I tried to keep my movements consistent as she came, delighting in how wet she was for me.

  I sat up and looked at her, eager for her assessment of how well I’d done.

  “That was great,” she said, grinning, then beckoning me closer. “Thank you.”

  I lay down next to her and we held each other, enjoying the feeling of slightly sticky skin against skin, and the sounds of our heart beats and breathing slowing and becoming a soft, peaceful backdrop to what felt like a peaceful scene.

  I snuggled up closer to her, feeling drowsy, and soon enough, sleep overtook both of us.

  11

  BRIANNE

  T he next morning, I woke up on the couch cuddled with Margie. We woke at the same time, blinking blearily and getting our bearings.

  “Oh, hey,” said Margie, smiling at me adorably. Just seeing her draped over me, naked and beautiful, was making me wet already.

  But I had stuff to do. I had so much work to catch up on, and I couldn’t afford to waste another minute, as much as I wanted to waste all the time in the world with Margie.

  I tried sitting up, and we faced each other on the couch. It was extremely difficult to resist her, now that the sunlight was filtering in and I could see her lovely body and beautiful face…

  I leaned forward and kissed her softly, and we made out a little at a leisurely pace. Her skin was warm and she smelled like sleep. The air in my apartment was cool, and I felt the urge to press my body against hers.

  We pulled away.

  “I wish I could keep going, but…” I said apologetically.

  “I know. Finals are coming up and I have some essays and projects I really should get a head start on if I don’t want to be completely screwed.” Margie laughed.

  “Same,” I said.

  We found our clothes, which were strewn all over the floor and even the coffee table, and put them back on.

  “I’ll see you soon, though,” said Margie. “Let’s plan another date for this coming week.”

  “Or you can just stop by and see me at lunch.” I smiled. “We’ll pretty much always be there.”

  She nodded. “Got it.”

  I walked her to the door, and she made sure she had all her stuff. “See you soon,” I said. I couldn’t resist, so I pecked her again on the lips, and of course, it turned into a kiss with tongue.

  She pulled away and smiled at me. “See you, Brianne.”

  I watched her as she walked down the street, joining the crowds of other revelers from the past night who were making their way back to their own apartments and houses. Soon enough, I couldn’t see her anymore, and I turned to go back inside.

  I couldn’t believe what had happened last night. The Margie who’d opened up to me so much had started off as someone unimaginably shy. When she’d bumped into me that day, I had no idea it would turn into this.

  I sighed as I returned to my bedroom to get ready for a shower. I had so much work to do today. At least now I could see the light at the end of the tunnel because graduation was coming up soon. Soon, I’d be free. At least until I found a job.

  Shit, that reminded me I had to get on that too. Seized by a burst of energy, I opened up my laptop and decided to write an email to my supervisor from my internship. If they gave me a job, I’d be golden. If not… Well, I’d have to figure something else out.

  My phone rang—it was my mother. I picked it up, even though I didn’t really feel like talking to her right now.

  “Hi, honey, how are you doing?” she asked.

  I was suspicious of her tone. It sounded like she was going to bring the smackdown on me for some reason… But I couldn’t imagine what that reason might be.

  “Fine,” I said. “Just finishing up some homework before class tomorrow.”

  “Good. I wanted to ask you… Have you thought about your plans for the summer?”

  There it was. And I’d just been thinking about it, too. I had no idea what to tell her because I hadn’t really thought about it at all.

  “I uh, emailed the people from the internship at Robinson so we’ll see what they say,” I started. “And I plan to look for other options… as well…”

  “What position will Robinson offer you?” she asked.

  This is what I hated about talking with her. She asked way too many detailed questions when I didn’t know the answers myself. It always made me feel like I was falling behind, even though I knew I was doing my best.

  “I’m not sure what yet,” I said honestly. “Probably Marketing Associate, I think that’s their entry level position.”

  “
Entry level position? You can’t wrangle something better? After all, you did do an internship with them…”

  I tried to keep my anger under control, remembering the lovely time I’d had with Margie. “We’ll see,” I said curtly, hoping to get her off the topic. I’d learned a while back that one of the most effective techniques for dealing with her was “gray rock”—just be as boring as possible so she stopped asking questions. It worked sometimes.

  “What about dating? Have you found a date for Marcy’s wedding?”

  I froze. I’d completely and utterly forgotten about my cousin Marcy’s wedding. I was glad my mother had reminded me, actually, because I would have simply not shown up.

  “Um, yeah,” I said, thinking of Margie. Even if she didn’t want to go, I could take Miriam or someone. But was Margie even my girlfriend? And would I want to introduce her to my mother so soon? Would she even want to—since she was still so new to being in a same-gender relationship?

  “Oooh, who?” asked my mother, suddenly sounding a bit like a schoolgirl.

  “Um… Just a friend,” I said, unwilling to get into that whole conversation. “I was thinking I’d take Miriam if she’s free, remember her?”

  “Maybe…” said my mother. “What about Nicole?”

  “Nicole?”

  “Your girlfriend?”

  “Mom, we broke up like, a long time ago. Years ago, even.” What the hell was she doing bringing her up?

  “She was a nice girl. Maybe you should get back together?”

  “No, Mom. We broke up for a reason.” I really wanted to tell her I was dating someone else now, but I couldn’t. I would be on the phone with her for another hour as she interrogated me about every aspect of Margie’s life.

  “Hm. Well, I liked her. I’d certainly be happy if you were dating her again.”

  “Good to know, Mom,” I said, though I was sure she missed the sarcasm in my voice.

  “Anyway, just make sure you have a date and your clothes are ready.”

  “Got it,” I said, scrambling to find my planner so I could write down the date of the wedding. It was in just two weeks—I knew because it was the weekend before graduation. Not ideal, with finals, but it was here in Rosebridge, so hopefully it wouldn’t take up too much time.

  “Anything else?” my mother asked.

  “Um, no,” I said. She was the one who’d called, after all, so I had no idea why she was even asking.

  “Me neither,” she said. “Talk to you later, Brianne. Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  I hung up and wondered what my next move was. It should have just been easy to text Margie and ask her if she wanted to come to the wedding, but I knew asking her that question would imply more than she might be prepared for. She was just building up her self-esteem and self-confidence, and I was reluctant to throw her into that situation.

  Maybe I should just take Miriam. It would solve a lot of problems. But then what if Margie felt hurt that I hadn’t taken her, considering she was my… well, not my girlfriend, but on the track to becoming one.

  It was even more shit that I didn’t need to think about.

  And it hurt that my mother wasn’t warm like other mothers I’d seen. Her calls were always like this—like she was a taskmaster, not someone genuinely interested in my life. It would have been nice if she’d asked how my music was coming along, and then I could have told her about the street performance group. Though I had a hunch she’d dismiss it as a waste of time.

  I sighed. I was so anxious that I didn’t really feel like doing anything, even though I had everything to do. I yearned for Margie’s touch again. I found it comforting in a way I’d never felt before. Maybe with all the change happening in my life, I needed her to help me feel grounded.

  I glanced at my phone. Would it be too much to text her again? Ask her if she wanted to hang out again tonight? I desperately wanted to see her again. And it was weird, because I couldn’t remember the last time I felt like this.

  I decided to text her and see what she had planned. I didn’t want to be the kind of person who simply didn’t text someone she really liked just because she thought it’d be too forward. I didn’t want to play games.

  The reply came instantaneously.

  > MARGIE: Sooo there’s actually a EAC potluck later tonight… Would you want to go?

  My chest tightened with even more anxiety. I didn’t really want to go to a potluck, but if I said no, I felt like I’d be letting Margie down. Honestly, I’d been hoping for another quiet evening inside with her, since it was Sunday, after all… But maybe my accompanying her to the potluck would be the boost she needed to feel even more confident.

  I texted her to say yes and ask for the details. My heart rate increased a little when I thought about how I’d have to fit all my work in around this potluck… and maybe even cook something for it, but I knew I had to do it for Margie.

  And I did. I spent the next several hours working feverishly on all the readings, group projects, essays, and études I had to complete. While I didn’t get to everything, I felt okay about my progress.

  Margie had told me she was bringing the food, so I didn’t have to worry about that. The house where the potluck was to be held was in my neighborhood, so I set out to walk there, having no idea what to expect.

  All I knew was that Miriam didn’t like the EAC folks for no discernible reason other than the beef between EAC and EAN. It sounded stupid to me, but what did I know. A lot of people clearly hadn’t left their high school attitudes in high school.

  It was strange to be a senior about to graduate and stumble upon a scene I’d never encountered before. I had no idea who these people were. In fact, it would be up to Margie to help me out a little.

  I saw her walking up from the opposite side of the street and waited for her. She smiled, and we kissed a hello.

  “I couldn’t go so long without seeing you,” she said shyly.

  “Me neither. That’s why I texted you. Anyway, what’s up with this potluck?”

  “Apparently it’s a monthly thing,” said Margie, as we approached the house. “It’s just a social event, so members can hang out. I know a couple people…”

  “I thought you didn’t like these people because they were cliquey,” I said.

  Margie flushed. “I felt like I should give them another chance. Maybe… maybe if I showed up with my cool friend…”

  That was honestly too cute, but I worried that she wasn’t developing actual self-confidence. The EAC people had to like her for who she was, not because I was cool. I also doubted that the EAC people would be impressed by my perceived coolness.

  “Well, we’ll see,” I said. “I’m sure they’re perfectly nice.”

  We knocked on the door, and a girl opened the door, her red glasses framing her wide eyes and beaming smile. “Oh hey! Margie, is it? And your friend?”

  She reached out and hugged Margie—who looked startled but pleased. She turned back to glance at me with raised eyebrows.

  We entered the house, and it turned out that a lot of people knew Margie’s name. She introduced me to several people, some of whom were familiar faces around campus. But I didn’t know anyone here personally, which was a new experience for me.

  I was starting to suspect that the EAC people weren’t that cliquey—it was just that Margie hadn’t had the confidence needed to break into the group.

  We got paper plates and loaded them up with food, all of which looked fantastic, and then sat down. There were about twenty people in the house, so some people sat on the floor of the living room, while others sat on the sides of the couch, because the couch itself was stuffed.

  A few people trickled in, but still, no one that I knew.

  And that was when I saw her—Nicole!

  My jaw literally hung open, and I turned around quickly so we wouldn’t make eye contact. What in the world was Nicole doing here, so soon after I’d discussed her with my mother? Today was turning out to be a da
y of coincidences.

  My heart started to pound. It wasn’t a big deal that Nicole was here—it wasn’t like we’d left on bad terms, and honestly, she was a decent person. It was just weird. I didn’t like getting this blast from the past, especially when I was so close to escaping Beasley forever.

  I couldn’t keep sitting in this room, pretending she didn’t exist. I had to face her at some point. And I probably should inform Margie, too. I wondered how she’d take it. Was she the kind of person who was weird about exes?

  I took a deep breath. Looked like I was about to find out.

  12

  MARGIE

  Brianne stiffened where she was sitting next to me, and I wasn’t sure why. I looked around, but I didn’t see anyone familiar. She was staring at her plate, her eyes slightly wide, and a small frown on her face.

  I nudged her. “Hey. What’s the matter?” I asked quietly.

  “Oh, um…” She paused to pull her phone out. “Check your texts in a minute.”

  I picked at my food, intensely curious. Then I saw my phone’s screen light up and I scrambled to read the text.

  > BRIANNE: The girl in the dark blue striped sweater is my ex from freshman year, Nicole. We’re cool but we haven’t talked since then so I just feel weird.

  “Oh,” I said, unsure of how to the navigate the situation. I wanted to do whatever Brianne felt comfortable doing.

  But on the other hand, Nicole was ridiculously good-looking and apparently popular with all the people here. In fact, I remembered her from the EAC parties I’d been to, the ones where I’d felt intimidated. I’d seen her hanging out with other people, easily chatting and enjoying the vibe, and I’d felt like I could never be a part of that.

  And to think she was Brianne’s ex… that made me feel even worse. How could I ever compete against someone so socially graceful and beautiful? Especially someone with whom she’d had a clean break up? If they were still on good terms…

  I tried not to think about it and instead replied to Brianne.

  > MARGIE: I’m okay with whatever you want to do.