by Clare Lydon
Joy bit Scarlet’s lip and clung onto her shoulder as Scarlet began to fuck her, thrusting deep inside her, curling her fingers and making Joy moan.
If last night had been about connection and emotion, this morning was about reconnection and pure lust, wild and unleashed. Scarlet steadied Joy on the stool as their movements made it swing left and right, which made them both laugh. Then she pushed Joy’s legs wider, fucking her with everything she had. If Joy had been in the driving seat last night, this morning, it was definitely Scarlet at the wheel.
Joy was thrusting forward to meet Scarlet’s rhythm, head tilted back, gripping Scarlet’s arms. When Scarlet’s thumb connected with Joy’s clit, she stiffened; when Scarlet increased her pressure and speed, Joy moaned loudly again.
But that was nothing compared to Joy’s guttural roar as she came all over Scarlet’s fingers seconds later, mouth wide open, head back, wanting all that Scarlet could give.
Scarlet looked into her eyes and saw such raw emotion, such openness, that tears threatened again, but she wasn’t going to give in to that this morning. Right now, her only intention was to fuck Joy till she could take no more. And so she did.
Moments later, Joy turned the tables, showing Scarlet that anything she could, Joy could do better. Stumbling off the stool like a drunk, she tugged down Scarlet’s shorts, then pushed her into a dining chair, before dropping to her knees.
“Seeing as I can’t stand properly, getting on my knees would seem to be the sensible option,” Joy told Scarlet, with a languid smile.
And then Joy’s head was between Scarlet’s legs, pushing them wide.
As Scarlet put her hands in Joy’s golden hair, Joy sucked Scarlet into her mouth, teasing her with her teeth, swirling her tongue with panache.
Scarlet’s mind went blank as she let her head fall back and allowed herself to relax into the moment. Joy’s head between her legs was immeasurably beautiful, and her tongue was exquisite. When she entered her, time stood still, Scarlet pushing forward to give Joy the best angle. Joy’s tongue was inquisitive and persistent, everything Scarlet wanted it to be.
With such relentless persistence, it didn’t take long for Scarlet to topple over the edge, which she did seconds later, clinging to Joy with her feet and hands, fireworks exploding inside her body. As Joy sucked and fucked her simultaneously, Scarlet was woozy with lust.
She could so get used to mornings like this.
As she came again with Joy applying the killer pressure with her tongue, Scarlet was suckerpunched, reeling. She had no idea where she was or who she was. All she could feel was Joy, reverberating in her head and in her heart.
When Joy stopped, the room was silent for a moment, nobody moving, just the smell of cooked breakfast enveloping them.
Joy exhaled, placing her wet chin on Scarlet’s thigh, before looking up at Scarlet.
“Fuck me,” Scarlet said.
“I think I just did.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Friday afternoon, and the rain was coming down in sheets so thick, they might as well have been made of steel. This was not the weather anybody wanted for Eamonn and Steph’s wedding day, but Joy just hoped it bucked up by tomorrow and they wouldn’t have to row to the ceremony.
She was checking the weather app on her phone when Scarlet walked in.
Seeing her, Scarlet gave her a wide smile, followed by a lingering kiss, before taking her place on her stool.
Joy felt the effects everywhere.
“Can you believe the rain?” Scarlet asked, glancing up at the skylight.
“They reckon it’s going to clear up by tonight. I hope they’re right — more rain is the last thing we need.”
“Amen to that.” Scarlet paused. “Are you coming with me to Grasspoint to help Eamonn and Steph set up in a bit?”
Scarlet had agreed to it when Eamonn texted earlier.
“I’ll try — but I told you, I’ve got this meeting later, so whatever time that runs till. Plus, I said I’d go for coffee with George afterwards, too, so I’ll play it by ear.”
“George at the council?”
Joy nodded. “I’m just glad I’m not in charge of this whole disaster effort — being the actual leader would have been a real challenge. Plus, I wouldn’t have had time to get to know you, either.”
“Then I’m glad, too,” Scarlet replied. “Plus, I don’t fancy George half as much as I fancy you.”
Joy let out a bark of laughter. “Glad to hear it.”
Scarlet got up off her stool and walked back to Joy. She cupped her butt cheek with one hand, before lowering her lips to Joy’s exposed collar bone and kissing along it.
Joy sighed with pleasure.
“You smell so good.” Scarlet paused, raising her head to Joy. “So about us — are we telling everyone tomorrow at the wedding? Going public as a couple?” As she spoke, Scarlet took Joy’s hand and kissed it. “I can’t wait to tell everyone, by the way.”
Joy shrunk back.
That was taking things a giant step forward in an instant. She was only just getting used to Scarlet kissing her; she wasn’t sure she was ready for the whole world to see it, too.
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” she replied. “Plus, I don’t want to take the limelight off Eamonn and Steph — it’s their wedding day.” She also hadn’t had time to process everything in her head. Sure, this felt like the most natural and right thing to her, but Joy was still nervous of telling the rest of the world. To them, she was the mayor: the straight, divorced mayor.
Scarlet stiffened, her face creased with concern. “I wasn’t meaning to announce it mid-ceremony. I just want to know if I can hold your hand, maybe grab a dance with you later?”
Joy took a deep breath, avoiding Scarlet’s gaze. Her insides were churning; she wasn’t sure she was quite ready for the next step just yet, but how could she tell Scarlet it didn’t mean anything more than that? That she absolutely wanted to be with her, but going public was a separate issue?
Her own issue.
One she hadn’t pushed forward herself in two years, yet Scarlet wanted her to do it overnight?
“I don’t know,” Joy said eventually. Which wasn’t the most useful answer, she had to admit. Why couldn’t she just blurt out what was in her head?
Scarlet’s face hardened. Her eyes narrowed and she dropped Joy’s hand.
The drop of contact was like a kick in the guts to Joy. Scarlet had her arms folded across her chest and she was looking at Joy with confusion painted across her features. Confusion and hurt. “What do you mean, you don’t know?”
Joy desperately wanted to wipe away the hurt. She never wanted to cause Scarlet any pain at all.
“I just mean I haven’t really thought about it yet.” She paused. “And I might need a little more time to get used to it myself, you know? I just… I’m a public figure, it’s not so easy for me to just turn up to a wedding with another woman when I used to be married to a man.”
Scarlet blinked, then took one step back, then two. She opened her mouth to speak, then swiftly closed it. “I can’t quite believe what I’m hearing,” she said. “Did we not share the same experience last night? This morning? But you’re still worrying about what people might think? I told you before, you coming out is not going to change people’s opinion of you. We’re living in the 21st century.” Scarlet shook her head. “Are you really going to hide this? Because I can’t hide this — being a lesbian is who I am. It’s like me supporting Dulshaw, like me hating Marmite. I can’t change it, it’s just part of me. And I thought you were ready to live your life, too. But maybe I was wrong.”
Panic rose in Joy as she saw Scarlet recalculating their relationship, like a jigsaw puzzle that suddenly made no sense. Scarlet couldn’t find the corners, had no idea where she was meant to put all the pieces, yet last night, it had all made sense. Joy flicked back through last night and this morning, but the images were fuzzy, one of the wires not quite connected. She frowned and
stroked Scarlet’s arm.
Scarlet flinched like Joy had just slapped her.
“I am ready… or at least I will be. But tomorrow might be too soon to tell everyone we know. I might just need a little time to sit with it, to get used to it myself. Can you understand that?”
Scarlet didn’t even blink. “The trouble is, I’ve been here before. Got together with people who said they were one thing, but actually didn’t have the guts to be themselves. And frankly, I’m too old for this shit.” She stared at Joy, as if taking a mental snapshot. As if it was going to be the last time she ever saw her.
Joy’s cheeks flushed red as alarm spread through her. Scarlet was going to leave. She didn’t want Scarlet to leave. Why couldn’t she explain it better? Why didn’t Scarlet understand? She wanted to be part of a couple, but this was all new to her. She was a novice.
“I think I’d better leave,” Scarlet said, giving Joy a pained look. “I’m going to help Eamonn and Steph, don’t wait up. I’ll see you at the wedding tomorrow, if you’re still coming.” Scarlet paused. “And don’t worry, I’ll keep my distance.”
Joy went to say something as Scarlet walked past her, but nothing came out. Her body and her voice had locked up, and even though she desperately wanted to change what had just happened, she couldn’t. Not right now. She just wasn’t there yet. She gripped the kitchen counter and stared out to the garden. The rain was still hammering down, aptly reflecting her mood.
Ten minutes later, the front door slammed shut.
Only then did Joy dissolve in tears, her body sliding down the kitchen cupboards, heaving with great, guttural sobs. What had she done? Had she just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her almost before it had begun?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Scarlet was drenched by the time she got to Grasspoint, but not in the same way she had been last night or this morning. But last night and this morning were a world away right now. She still couldn’t quite believe this had happened, but it had. What was the first rule of lesbianism? Don’t get involved with sex tourists. And if you are going to get involved with them, certainly don’t fall for them.
Definitely don’t fall for them.
Lesbian 101.
But Scarlet had fallen for Joy, and now Joy wasn’t sure she was ready to come out, when all along, she’d told Scarlet she was. She’d left her husband, for goodness sakes, and Scarlet had just blindly assumed that was enough. Enough to back up Joy’s assumption she was ready to truly be herself. And after what had happened between them? The sex? The connection? Was Joy really denying everything that had gone before?
Scarlet shook her head as she let herself into the function room at the old people’s home. She needed a towel, she was dripping wet. The room was set up with round tables and a top table at the head, but nothing apart from that. This evening had been ear-marked for decorating and table setting, but Scarlet really wasn’t in the mood. She checked her watch: 4pm. Her body still felt alive and raw from sex, yet her spirits didn’t match. Her spirit had been punched and kicked, and all Scarlet wanted to do was go home and retreat into her sanctuary. But she didn’t have it anymore. She didn’t have a home. And for a while there, she’d entertained the idea she might have found a new home with Joy. But now, she wasn’t so sure.
She got her phone out of her bag and texted Eamonn, sitting down in one of the chairs, sighing heavily. He texted back immediately, telling Scarlet he was tied up at work and would be late, not there for another hour.
Great. If it were up to her, she’d go home, but as she didn’t have one, she’d have to wait it out. The reality of having nowhere to go hadn’t hit her until now, when she needed her own space. Up until now, she’d been happy sharing Joy’s home. But today she saw how hopeless her life was again. Without Joy to hold her up, she was in danger of sinking again. Perhaps she’d have to take her brother up on the option of living with him for a while. Scarlet put her head in her hands, just as the door to the function room opened. When she looked up, she saw Celia, the home manager. Celia was probably around Scarlet’s age, but had clearly been named after some far older relative. Scarlet didn’t know anybody else her age called Celia — it was a name about due for a revival, like Ethel and Mabel.
“It’s you,” Celia said, walking over to her. “I saw someone come in and just wondered if Eamonn or Steph were here already and needed anything.” She paused, taking Scarlet in. “Are you okay?”
Scarlet gave her a fake smile and nodded her head. She had to hold it together, she didn’t want this to come out.
“Fine, just a bit tired, what with the week we’ve had.”
Celia placed a concerned hand on her arm. “Totally understandable — you haven’t had it easy.” She paused. “I just made tea and served up some cake — you want to come through and have some? Joy’s gran and a few others you know are in there.”
Scarlet bit her lip. She didn’t really want to see Clementine right now, but she might seem rude if she said no. After all, what was she going to do in an empty hall all on her own instead?
“That’d be lovely,” she said, easing herself to a standing position.
“And I can get you a towel once we’re there, too, so you can dry off a bit.”
“Thanks,” Scarlet said, following Celia out the door and across the lawn to the main building.
Once inside, Clementine waved her over and Scarlet pulled up a chair, getting smiles from all the residents. Celia brought her over a cuppa and some cake, along with the promised towel, then disappeared down the corridor.
Clementine gave Scarlet a smile as she dried off. “Here on your own? What’s that granddaughter of mine up to today?”
Scarlet cast her eyes to the ground, then around the room. “She had council business, stuff to do,” she muttered.
Stuff to do that wasn’t Scarlet. Stuff to do that wasn’t them. Stuff that was duty, whereas Joy clearly found emotion far less easy to deal with because it wasn’t cut and dried. Even though she was a life coach. But weren’t they meant to be the worst at taking their own advice, Scarlet had heard somewhere?
Scarlet was suddenly overwhelmed. What the hell was she doing here and with her life? Here she was, nearly 40, and she was sitting in an old people’s home because her girlfriend — or she’d dared to dream she might be her girlfriend — wouldn’t come out fully. Wasn’t this kind of drama meant to have stopped by the time you were nearly 40?
And then, there they were again: the tears. Tracking their way slowly down Scarlet’s cheeks, giving the game away.
Clementine looked alarmed, but she took a moment to manoeuvre herself out of her armchair, before guiding Scarlet over to two empty chairs on the other side of the room, away from the TV, overlooking the grounds. Whoever looked after the grounds did a very good job, Scarlet thought.
Once Scarlet was seated, Clementine stroked her arm.
“What’s the trouble?” she asked, looking into Scarlet’s eyes with concern. But all Scarlet saw was Joy looking at her; she hadn’t noticed that before, that her and her granddaughter shared the same deep blue eyes. Looking at Clementine now, she saw she was looking at Joy in 40-odd years’ time. Not that it mattered. She probably wouldn’t even know Joy then. She’d just be a passing acquaintance from a bygone era, an era when Scarlet had dared to almost love again.
But how could that possibly be after the night they’d had? The week they’d had? The connection they’d made? Scarlet refused to believe it, but the facts were irrefutable. She shook her head to try to stop more tears coming. It didn’t work.
“This isn’t to do with the flood, is it?”
Scarlet shook her head, still avoiding Clementine’s gaze.
“Is it to do with my granddaughter?”
Scarlet nodded her head slowly.
“I thought it might be.” Clementine paused. “What’s gone on?”
Scarlet took a deep breath, finally looking at Clementine. “We… we got together last night… after the broa
dcast.”
Clementine squeezed Scarlet’s arm.
“And everything was fine… great, even. Until this afternoon when I brought up being together at the wedding tomorrow. Joy’s not happy about that, says she’s not ready to be out to everyone yet, but I can’t live like that. I am who I am and I can’t be with someone who wants to hide.”
Clementine nodded. “I understand. I really do — but Joy will come round. She just needs some time to adjust, that’s all. She knows who she is, but letting the whole world know is a different matter.”
Scarlet exhaled a long breath. “She told you.”
Clementine smiled. “She knows nothing she ever said could change how I feel about her — she’s my special girl. But everyone else in the town, it’s a big step. Telling her parents, her brother. Only Steve and I know the real reason they split. Joy didn’t tell anyone else. So this is still a big step and if you want to be with her, you have to be patient with her.”
Scarlet nodded. Had she overreacted? But then again, she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t out and happy with themselves. She simply couldn’t be: her life was so far removed from that, she couldn’t even contemplate it.
“I get that, but I can’t ignore her tomorrow. I want her to be happy, and I’m happiest with her. And I thought she was with me, too. But clearly, I was wrong.” Scarlet hung her head.
Clementine patted her knee. “I don’t think you were, and I bet you a million pounds that Joy’s fretting far more than you right now. She’s an honourable woman, and she wants to do the right thing by you. And if the right thing is giving it a bit more time, then so be it. You’ve had far more time to come to terms with this. Joy has been dealing with an abstract notion of her identity since she split with Steve. Now that it might be real, she’s flummoxed, that’s all.” Clementine paused. “Promise me you’ll let her sort her head out before you give up hope?”
Scarlet rolled Clementine’s words around in her head before she nodded. “I will, but I thought we had something. And if Joy’s not prepared to acknowledge that, too, then we might have a problem.”