She slid her leg farther between Jamie’s, wondering if the feeling would continue to build or if the events and emotions of the day had taken too much of a toll. Jamie stilled, her hand frozen where it had been slowly stroking Deanna’s hair, and when Deanna pressed her thigh higher Jamie took a quick, indrawn breath.
The sound was enough to make Deanna aware of the dampness between her legs and she twisted, so that instead of being beside Jamie she was on top of her.
In the darkness, Jamie’s eyes were nearly black. Her lips parted as Deanna rubbed the top of her thigh against Jamie through her jeans. Jamie reached for Deanna, but she just shook her head, and with a groan of frustration, Jamie dropped her hands back to the bed.
Jamie was half sitting, and Deanna used the back of the couch to hold the top of her body up as she continued to rub against Jamie. Jamie’s mouth was close enough to kiss; her chest heaved against Deanna’s, and Deanna dropped her gaze to watch as Jamie wet her dry lips with her tongue. Deanna wanted to press her mouth against Jamie’s, wanted to crawl inside and devour her from the inside out, but more than that she wanted to watch Jamie as Deanna made her fall apart.
As she increased her pace, Jamie’s hips rose up to meet Deanna’s thigh. Deanna spared a moment to wonder if the rough material of Jamie’s jeans would be too harsh on such a delicate part of her body. But the way Jamie had begun to pant, with her head thrown back and baring the long line of her throat, had Deanna thinking that even if it did hurt, it certainly wasn’t taking anything away from the experience for Jamie.
Deanna’s nightgown had ridden up, and as she pushed against Jamie she wanted more contact. Grabbing Jamie’s hand, she pressed it against the bared skin of the back of her thigh. Jamie understood immediately and brought her other hand up as well, cupping the back of Deanna’s ass as Jamie’s movements under Deanna became more frantic.
Knowing she was close, Deanna grabbed a fistful of Jamie’s hair, twisted her fingers in the thick strands and forced Jamie’s head up so she could watch.
Jamie’s teeth dug into her bottom lip. The expression on her face was torn between pain and pleasure, and, when Deanna leaned in closer and breathed “Now,” against her mouth, Jamie came with a shuddering jerk.
Deanna rose and slid out of the bed before Jamie had begun to recover her breath. Jamie’s breasts still strained against the fabric of her T-shirt as her lungs worked to suck in more air. Jamie’s eyes had fallen shut, and when Deanna crawled back into the bed Jamie didn’t bother to open them.
Deanna set her purple vibrator down on the bed beside her and reached for the hem of Jamie’s shirt. Jamie lifted a hand, whether in protest or something else Deanna wasn’t sure, because as Deanna worked the shirt up Jamie’s torso, Jamie let her hand fall back to the bed.
Pleased to see that Jamie wore a bra with a front clasp, Deanna undid the garment and pushed it aside. Jamie’s T-shirt was bunched up under her arms, and Deanna considered pulling it off but couldn’t deny that she appreciated the way it made Jamie look utterly debauched. The flush from her orgasm was still hot, and it had made its way down her chest so that Deanna could nearly feel the heat radiating against her.
“What are you doing?” Jamie managed when Deanna moved down the bed to work at the top button on Jamie’s jeans. “Let me—” she gestured toward Deanna, but Deanna brushed her hand away, then kissed the taut skin of Jamie’s belly, just above the elastic band of her underwear.
“No, I want to take you apart,” Deanna said with a shake of her head. “I want to make you come until you can’t move. I want to leave you wrecked and still wanting more.” Her lips curled into a smile against Jamie’s skin. “Is that okay?” She looked up the lean, muscular line of Jamie’s body and waited until she’d received Jamie’s nod of assent.
“Good.” Deanna dropped another kiss onto Jamie’s abdomen; her tongue flicked out wetly against the skin in praise, and she purred low in her throat when Jamie twitched under her. She slid down the zipper of Jamie’s jeans and eased them over her hips; she let her tongue trace the progress of bared flesh until she had them all the way off.
Jamie’s legs had settled back together and, though Jamie began to open them, Deanna straddled Jamie’s knees, keeping them pressed close. She brushed her lips against Jamie’s, sliding deeper when Jamie parted hers in response.
The kiss was long and wet, a slow pull of heat that echoed the warmth in Deanna’s center, and when she finally pulled back they were both breathless.
Deanna rested her forehead against Jamie’s as she brought her hands up to cup Jamie’s breasts, then dragged her thumbs over Jamie’s nipples to feel Jamie writhe underneath her. Deanna now knew that Jamie liked her sex with an edge of teeth and nails, and it gave Deanna a perverse sort of pleasure to pet Jamie gently until she was nearly frantic with the need for more.
“Don’t be a tease,” Jamie warned, as though she had read Deanna’s mind, her voice low and rough.
“Who, me?” Deanna was all innocence as she rubbed her lips against the shell of Jamie’s ear, sucking the soft lobe and giving it a quick nip that had Jamie’s breath catching. Her legs still squeezed tight around Jamie, Deanna slid her hand down Jamie’s front and over the top of her underwear, one finger sliding between the V of Jamie’s thighs.
Jamie’s underwear was damp, and Deanna pressed her finger against the center of all that heat. Jamie’s hips jerked at the touch as her legs tried to part, but Deanna held her fast. Leaning back so that she could again watch Jamie’s face, Deanna began to move that single finger, rubbing against Jamie’s clit through the fabric of her underwear.
Unlike earlier, when Jamie’s jeans were between her and the blunt pressure of Deanna’s thigh, Deanna’s sensitive fingertip could feel Jamie swollen and wet through the material. She could feel every tiny shudder that ran through the other woman, smell the heavy scent of her desire, and when Deanna used her other hand to circle Jamie’s throat, she could feel Jamie’s pulse, rabbit-quick, under her fingers.
Jamie swore, hips bucking as she tried to increase the pressure at her clit. Deanna moved her hand faster, pressing closer until she could feel Jamie’s thighs quake as she arched up and came with a strangled moan.
Deanna slid free and brought both hands up to cup Jamie’s face. Jamie’s skin was hot and damp under Deanna’s touch, and her mouth was completely pliant. Deanna kissed her slowly, thoroughly and meticulously while Jamie shuddered under her with aftershocks.
When Deanna finally pulled back, Jamie reached for her again. This time Deanna let her stroke a hand languidly down Deanna’s side, but when Jamie tried to draw her close Deanna wouldn’t let her.
“I’m not done yet,” she murmured, pulling Jamie’s shirt and bra all the way off before leaning back to pull off her own nightgown. Jamie took advantage of her momentary distraction to dart forward and latch her mouth around Deanna’s bared nipple. Deanna bit back a moan at the pull, tossed her nightgown to the floor and swayed forward into Jamie.
Jamie’s hands came up and she tried to reverse their positions. Deanna wriggled free. “Not done yet,” she reminded Jamie.
“Dee,” Jamie pleaded, but Deanna shook her head, gesturing for Jamie to lie back as Deanna reached for the vibrator. Ripping open the package of a condom she’d brought from the bathroom, Deanna slid it over the toy before pressing it between Jamie’s splayed legs.
At the first touch of the vibrating toy Jamie gave a choked moan and threw an arm over her eyes. Her entire body tensed as Deanna used two fingers to part Jamie’s slick folds and moved the tip of the toy against Jamie’s sensitive and swollen clit. Jamie jerked under Deanna; her body nearly twisted itself into knots as she tried to both push into and get away from the vibrations.
It took only a handful of seconds while Deanna gently circled Jamie’s clit with the vibrator before she gave a hoarse cry and went limp. Deanna bent down and slid the flat of
her tongue over Jamie, making a soft noise of satisfaction at the taste of her. Jamie’s hand came down to rest against Deanna’s hair, and when Deanna licked her again Jamie’s fingers tightened, trying to pull Deanna back as a whimper of pleasure spilled from Jamie’s mouth.
Deanna laughed against Jamie’s wet heat, throbbing hot and heavy between her own legs as that light breath of air made Jamie’s thighs shake around Deanna. Refusing to give Jamie the reprieve she was asking for, Deanna moved the vibrator lower and began to slowly work the head of it into Jamie. She’d turned it off after Jamie’s first orgasm—well, Jamie’s first orgasm with the vibrator, Deanna thought smugly—so when Jamie’s spine bowed back from the sensation of something thick and unyielding pushing its way inside of her, Deanna nearly came just from watching Jamie. Her head was thrown back, her arm was still over her eyes and her chest heaved as Deanna continued to press in the vibrator until it was fully seated.
“Please,” Jamie’s hips rolled, trying to increase the pressure, to work the toy over that spot inside her. “Deanna. Please.”
Deanna shifted, hiking one of Jamie’s legs up against her shoulder and deepening the angle so that Jamie cried out under her, falling back against the bed with her hands clawing at the sheets. Deanna turned on the toy, and Jamie convulsed, her eyes flying open with a sharp cry as she arched up from the bed.
Deanna kept her eyes on Jamie’s face as she fucked her with the buzzing toy, rubbing over and over her G-spot. Jamie reached out, and Deanna grasped her hand, nails digging into her skin as Jamie bit hard enough into her own lip that Deanna could see a dark bead of blood spill. Deanna shortened the strokes of the vibrator, keeping it close and tight against Jamie’s G-spot, and, with something that was close to a scream, Jamie came.
Turning the toy off, Deanna slid it out of Jamie’s body, then kissed softly and slowly against Jamie’s belly before she worked her way up Jamie’s limp form to press her mouth against Jamie’s.
She’d expected to taste pennies, sweet and metallic from Jamie’s blood, but to Deanna’s surprise Jamie tasted only of the wine they’d had. Deanna was glad she’d only imagined the blood. That was a weird thing to imagine during sex, and she was pleased that Jamie hadn’t actually hurt herself.
Tucked against Jamie’s side, Deanna slid her hand between her own legs and pressed against her clit, where her fingers rubbed quickly and efficiently as she sought some relief from her own arousal. Beside her, Jamie twitched and then made a noise that Deanna could have sworn was a growl.
Before Deanna knew what was happening, Jamie had risen over her, shoving between her legs and pushing two fingers straight into her core. Deanna yelped, shock and pleasure blurring her vision as Jamie pumped into her relentlessly. When her vision started to clear, Deanna could see Jamie over her, her teeth bared in a fierce grin as Deanna writhed helplessly against her, and her eyes—her burning bourbon eyes—were now a pale, winter-sky gray.
Deanna’s breath caught in her throat; confusion warred with the sensations of her body as Jamie added a third finger and Deanna’s eyes rolled back into her head. Jamie bent over and sucked Deanna’s clit into her mouth; her teeth grazed over the sensitive flesh, and, with a violent shudder, Deanna came in a hot flood.
Chapter Eight |
“I don’t know why you can’t get your big butch girlfriend to help you hang another painting,” Nathan complained as they headed into Deanna’s building. “Isn’t that the whole point of big butch girlfriends?”
“It’s certainly a perk,” Deanna agreed. She stopped in the lobby to check her mailbox. She knew she had the key somewhere in her purse. “But she’s spending the weekend working on her seminar presentation, and I know it’s been stressing her out lately, so I’m not going to bother her with this. Plus,” she added, happy to have found the key. “We haven’t been dating that long. We haven’t used the ‘G’ word yet.”
“I’d like to be able to use the ‘G’ word. Or the ‘B’ word,” Nathan said morosely, leaning against the wall with the new canvas as he waited for Deanna to pull out her mail.
“I told you to try Tinder.” Deanna stuffed the few envelopes under her arm and picked up the growler of beer she was using to bribe Nathan.
“That’s hardly romantic.” Nathan followed her up the stairs, and Deanna was glad he was bitching about his love life instead of the seven flights. “I mean, what’s the point in being open and interested in the entire alphabet of sexuality if you still have to use the Internet to date? God, I sound like an old man,” he realized as they made their way down the hallway to Deanna’s apartment. “I’m that old, crotchety man. ‘In my day, we had to ask people out over the phone!’” he mimicked. “‘These kids and their texts and their sexts! It’s immoral!’”
“Uh huh,” Deanna agreed absently, once she’d unlocked the door and let them in. After putting the beer down on the table, she flipped through the mail. Nathan continued to amuse himself and Arthur with what was now a monologue about the various pros and cons of the Internet. Bank statement, flyer for the pizza place, reminder about the city’s upcoming changes to the curbside recycling program, and a large, hand-addressed envelope with no return address.
Curiosity piqued, Deanna trailed after Nathan with the beer and the envelope. Nathan relieved her of the growler and headed into the kitchen for glasses. Deanna tore open the seal, dumping the contents onto the coffee table.
A folded piece of paper fluttered out, accompanied by what looked like two photographs that had fallen onto the table face down. Curiouser and curiouser, Deanna mused, turning over the first photo and letting out a sudden, violent expletive when she saw her own image.
It was a candid shot, taken of Deanna and Arthur outside their building. She was wearing her bright red raincoat and carrying a bag of Arthur’s dog food. She had no idea when it had been taken. She had no idea someone had taken her picture.
Nathan hastened out of the kitchen and, before Deanna could pick it up, grabbed the second picture. He turned it over, and his face went pale.
Deanna scowled and reached for it, but Nathan stepped back, shaking his head. “No, you don’t want to see this one.” Deanna ignored him and grabbed for it again.
“No.” Nathan’s good nature had vanished, and he was uncharacteristically fierce. “Not going to happen.”
“Nathan, give me the fucking picture.”
“Deanna—”
They were interrupted by a knock. Nathan’s eyes went wide and he gestured for Deanna to stay still as he turned for the door.
Deanna’s lips thinned into a hard line, and she followed right behind Nathan. She tried to shove past him, but Nathan pushed her back hard enough that Deanna made an outraged noise of pain and was sure she’d have a bruise.
“Who’s there?” Nathan asked, not bothering to look through the peephole, but watching Deanna with unreadable eyes.
“It’s Jamie. Can I come in?” Jamie’s tone was strangely cautious, and Deanna tried again to grab the photo from Nathan. Deanna wasn’t going to let Jamie see something Nathan was afraid to show her.
Nathan whipped the picture behind his back before unlocking the door and opening it a careful inch until he could see that it was Jamie.
Jamie eased through, clicking the lock behind her, which Deanna thought was odd. Jamie wasn’t dressed to go out—she was barefoot, wearing only a pair of worn jeans that hung low on her hips and a green T-shirt frayed around the hem. Her hair wasn’t styled, and if it hadn’t been impossible Deanna might have thought that Jamie had come rushing in response to Deanna’s reaction to the photo of her and Arthur. But obviously it was just a weird coincidence because, though Jamie was only one floor above her, Deanna was fairly certain Jamie couldn’t hear every word spoken in her apartment.
“I just wanted to borrow some, um…” Jamie looked blankly around the apartment. “Dish soap.”
“Now’s not really
the best—” Deanna began.
“Deanna just got this in the mail,” Nathan handed Jamie the picture. Jamie was unnaturally still as she stared at the photo. With an angry huff, Deanna yanked it out of Jamie’s hands.
It took a second to make sense of what she was looking at; the image in front of her was a mess of colors and shapes before it snapped into focus and bile rose thick in her throat.
It was a woman—it had been a woman—her body naked and pale against a cement floor. The reason it had taken Deanna a moment to understand what she was looking at was that the body—her body; whoever it was deserved to be thought of as more than it, a part of Deanna thought fiercely—had been torn at with such ferocity that Deanna thought there might actually be parts missing. Blood pooled dark under her; streaks of it were shockingly red against the poor woman’s pale skin. What could do something like that to a person? The only comparison her stunned mind could draw was to a photo of a deer carcass she’d seen once, after a pack of wolves had been at it.
The worst part, though, if anything about the picture could be worse than any other part, was that where the woman’s face should have turned toward the camera, someone had clumsily photoshopped Deanna’s face instead.
Deanna was numb; white flickered at the edges of her vision as she tried to understand what was happening.
“There was a letter, too,” Nathan crossed the room and picked up the folded piece of paper. He licked his lips, shot Deanna an uneasy glance and, after giving it a quick scan, passed it over.
Deanna took the paper without a word, standing stiffly as Jamie moved behind her to read over her shoulder.
Deanna. What a pretty name for a pretty girl. Too bad you won’t be pretty for long. You are a stupid bitch cunt like the rest of them, but I thought maybe you’d listen to me. I’ve told you to stop. I was nice. I asked politely but you kept shutting me down, you kept trying to shut me up. I won’t be censored, D. The truth doesn’t hide. Do you see the truth in front of you now? DO YOU FUCKING GET IT? Wolf’s Run isn’t real, it’s a farce, an INSULT, and if you keep allowing these human SHEEP to pretend they are something they ARE NOT I will show you what a REAL WOLF can do—just like I’ve showed the other stupid bitch cunts who won’t open their EYES and BELIEVE.
The Better To Kiss You With Page 7