by Aurora Rey
“Oh, Emerson.” Darcy put a hand on her leg. “I’m so sorry. That must have been devastating.”
Emerson took a deep breath. “It was. But it also opened my eyes. It sounds cliché, but I realized in that moment that life doesn’t come with any guarantees. I took a leave for the semester, then decided to live the life I wanted.”
Darcy shook her head. “When you mentioned moving here after they died, I didn’t realize what a dramatic life change that was.”
“Yeah.” Emerson nodded. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so heavy. I hope I didn’t ruin the mood.”
Darcy smiled. “Not at all. I asked. Thank you for opening up.”
“Thanks for asking.”
“Would you like more wine?”
Emerson smiled at the attentiveness. “I think I’m good.”
“Okay. Are you still…I mean after talking about…”
Emerson silenced Darcy’s partially formulated questions with a kiss. “Mood unbroken.”
“In that case…” Darcy set her glass aside.
Emerson did the same, glad Darcy gave such clear signals. She leaned in, pausing a few inches from Darcy’s face. Darcy’s lips parted in anticipation. It had to be an unconscious gesture and it drove Emerson absolutely nuts. Emerson closed the remaining distance.
The taste of Darcy’s mouth permeated her senses. Emerson had thought, perhaps, that the electricity of their first kiss stemmed from the newness, from the fact she’d not been with anyone—kissed anyone, even—in months. But this kiss seemed even more powerful, if that was possible. It stirred something in her. Arousal, yes, but also something more. It filled her chest, pressing against her lungs and making it hard to breathe. It made her tingle. It made her want more.
Darcy shifted so that she hovered over Emerson, then crawled into her lap. Having Darcy straddle her took Emerson’s desire to a new level, one that made her lose track of time and place. The next thing she knew, Darcy stood and took Emerson’s hand. She smiled a knowing smile. Emerson allowed herself to be led, following Darcy down the short hallway to her bedroom.
Darcy let go of her hand long enough to turn on a small lamp near the bed. Emerson’s eyes adjusted to the soft light as she took in her surroundings. If the apartment as a whole felt homey, Darcy’s room was all woman. A vintage dressing table stood in the corner, complete with more jewelry and makeup than Emerson would know what to do with. The duvet on the bed had a bold black, white, and red floral pattern that matched the red shade of the lamp.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Emerson was nervous. Not about the sex specifically, but something. She brushed it aside. Now was not the time for analysis. She leaned in and kissed Darcy, softly at first. She pulled back to look into Darcy’s eyes. In them, she saw desire, encouragement. Her lips formed into a slow smile. “Are we good?” Emerson asked.
“We are. And I think we’re about to be a whole lot better.” Darcy brought her mouth back to Emerson’s. She sank into the kiss. Or, maybe more accurately, allowed herself to be carried away by it. Emerson was an expert leader and Darcy was more than happy to follow. It was subtle, but sure. Confident. It made Darcy weak in the knees.
Emerson abandoned Darcy’s mouth to trail kisses down her neck. From there, she kissed along one of Darcy’s collarbones, then the other. She returned to Darcy’s throat, then ran her tongue down Darcy’s sternum to the deep vee of her dress’s neckline. Darcy shivered.
Emerson pull away far enough to make eye contact. “You okay?”
Darcy licked her lips and nodded. “More than.”
“Oh, good. Because I’d like to do more of that.”
“Yes, please.”
Without breaking eye contact, Emerson reached around and unzipped Darcy’s dress. She spread the fabric apart, her fingers lightly brushing Darcy’s skin. Another shiver. “You’re sure?”
By way of answer, Darcy slid her arms from the sleeves, then shimmied until the dress pooled at her feet. Emerson’s gaze traveled down her body slowly, then back up. “Okay, then.”
Darcy took that as her cue to dispose of some of Emerson’s clothing. She started with her shirt, undoing the buttons of her sleeves. She kept her movements slow, methodical. After the sleeves, she went to work on the other buttons. She gave each one her full attention, pausing in between to lock eyes with Emerson. Underneath, Emerson wore a tight undershirt instead of a bra. So. Fucking. Hot.
Darcy pulled it free from the waistband of Emerson’s pants, then over Emerson’s head. Emerson’s breasts were small. Dark nipples stood erect from her tawny skin. The plane of her stomach was smooth and flat. The waistband of her boxers peeked out from the top of her pants. Darcy ran her hands along the bottom of Emerson’s ribcage and over her breasts, grazing her nipples with her thumbs, then her palms. She loved the way Emerson pressed into her, the warm smoothness of her skin.
Darcy moved her hands up to Emerson’s collar bones, around her neck. Emerson reached around and unhooked Darcy’s bra, sliding it down her arms and tossing it onto the floor with their other discarded clothing. With that barrier now gone, Emerson closed the short distance between them, pressing their torsos together.
It had been just under a year since Darcy had slept with a woman. Most of the time, she stayed busy enough and tired enough not to mind. When she found herself wanting, she took care of matters herself. She realized just how much that contentment depended on her options. The feel of Emerson’s hands on her changed things. It was like being plugged in. She was illuminated, electrified.
As this revelation played out in her mind, Darcy guided them slowly toward the bed. When the backs of her knees bumped the edge, she sat. The move brought her eye level to Emerson’s breasts. She enjoyed the view while she unbuttoned Emerson’s pants, slid down the zipper. Emerson wore plaid cotton boxers—so old school it made her smile.
“What?” Emerson asked.
“Just admiring.” Darcy slid her hands into Emerson’s pants, pushing both the pants and boxers down. Emerson stepped back just far enough to kick them free.
Darcy leaned back on her elbows and Emerson returned to her. She hooked her fingers through the thin strips of lace at Darcy’s hips and slid her panties off. Then she crawled onto the bed, placing one knee between Darcy’s legs and straddling her thigh. Darcy rose to meet her.
Emerson planted a hand on either side of Darcy’s head. She dipped her head, traced Darcy’s lips with her tongue. Darcy sighed and Emerson used the opportunity to slip into Darcy’s mouth. Her lazy exploration belied any sense of urgency. Darcy, on the other hand, felt nothing but urgent. She wanted Emerson to touch her, be inside her, release the familiar yearning that had taken on an unfamiliar edge.
Darcy resisted the urge to ask for what she wanted. Part of the pleasure in being with someone was not knowing what they would do next, or how. She scraped her nails up the back of Emerson’s neck and into her hair. When Emerson pulled away, breaking the kiss, Darcy made a sound of displeasure.
“Patience.” Emerson whispered the word against her ear before kissing her way down Darcy’s neck, along her jaw. When Emerson’s mouth got to Darcy’s breasts, the kisses became gentle bites interspersed with slow circles and rapid flicks of tongue.
Darcy’s hands remained restless, moving up and down Emerson’s back. She wanted to yank Emerson close, feel the full length of her body. But she didn’t want to restrict Emerson’s access to touch her anywhere, everywhere. Emerson continued to bask attention on Darcy’s breasts. Meanwhile, her fingers danced along Darcy’s thigh, teasing and taunting. Darcy shifted, trying to convey her readiness, her need. Finally, Emerson slid a finger over her, into her. Darcy arched into the touch, hungry for more. One finger became two and Darcy clamped around her. “More.”
Emerson obliged, adding a third finger and making Darcy feel perfectly, exquisitely full. Darcy rode her hand, reveling not only in having Emerson inside her, but also in the way Emerson’s fingers curved and stroked. It was as
though Emerson knew her secrets, all the hidden places that gave her pleasure, and how to play each and every one of them. The pressure built quickly. It started as a tension in her lower belly, but spread. It radiated out in waves, an eruption that pulsed through her—fingertips, toes, the top of her head. The orgasm reached each hair follicle, each pore.
When the roaring in her ears finally stopped, Darcy blinked her eyes open. Emerson stared at her, smiling. Darcy swallowed, returned the smile. “Damn.”
Emerson’s smile widened into a full grin. “I was just thinking the same thing. Are you always so gorgeous when you come?”
Darcy shook her head slowly. “You got me into bed. There’s no need for that kind of flattery.”
Emerson’s face became serious. “I mean it. Watching it play out on your face was incredible.”
The sex she’d just had was in a league all its own, in a good way, but the intensity of Emerson’s words made her uneasy. She made sure to keep her tone playful. “Stop.”
Emerson lifted a shoulder. “I’m just saying.”
Darcy propped herself up. “I guess I’m going to have to find a way to distract you.”
Emerson flopped onto her back, lifted one arm over her head. “By all means.”
She’d been teasing, but Darcy wanted to reciprocate. No, more than that. She wanted to touch and to taste, to feel Emerson unravel beneath her. That was the other thing she missed when going solo.
Darcy knelt next to Emerson, appreciating the lines and angles of her body. She leaned in, pulling a taut nipple into her mouth. Emerson groaned. Her hand, that had been resting lightly on Darcy’s thigh, gripped it. Darcy smiled around the breast in her mouth. She moved her hand down Emerson’s abdomen and into the patch of dark curls. Without hesitating, she thrust two fingers into Emerson and had the pleasure of hearing her gasp in surprise and pleasure.
She worked Emerson, pumping her fingers and pressing the pad of her thumb against her hard center. Emerson matched her pace, thrusting back, lifting her hips to meet her each time. Darcy switched to her other breast, flicking and sucking in time with her movement of her hand. She felt Emerson’s body bear down, a little longer and a little harder with each thrust. She resisted the urge to speed up, wanting to draw out the moment, hold Emerson on the edge of release as long as possible.
Even with that intention, she could feel Emerson’s body begin to quiver. She brought her free hand to Emerson’s other breast, pinching and tugging it. Emerson’s grip on her tightened, her arms and legs went stiff. Darcy reveled as her body began to quake, a trembling that seemed to emanate from her core and down her limbs. She held her hand in place and felt the orgasm pulse around her fingers. The sound Emerson made turned her on all over again, made her clench and long to have Emerson inside her.
Emerson went lax, inside and out. Darcy swallowed and eased her hand away. She collapsed beside her, placed a hand between Emerson’s breasts. Emerson’s skin was slightly damp and her heart thudded so hard that Darcy could feel it under her hand. When Emerson’s ragged breaths began to even out, Darcy picked up her head. Emerson’s eyes were open and she appeared to be staring at the ceiling. For some reason, Darcy hadn’t expected her to be so affected.
They lay like that for a little while, in the quiet and with the soft glow of the lamp casting shadows on the walls. Emerson rolled her head to the side and locked eyes with Darcy. “Do you need me to go?”
Darcy picked up her head. “No. Do you want to go?”
“Not at all. I just didn’t know…” Emerson trailed off.
“When I said all night, I meant it.”
Emerson rolled over. “All night?”
“I meant stay all night, not, you know.”
“Ah. So, does that mean you’re done with me?”
Darcy looked Emerson up and down. This was fun; she’d forgotten just how much. “I didn’t say that.”
“Oh, good.” Emerson leaned in and kissed her. “Because I was just getting started.”
Chapter Fourteen
Emerson woke to the aroma of coffee. She had no idea what time it was, except that it was far too early. Coffee meant that Darcy was awake, though, so she resisted the urge to burrow deeper under the covers and go back to sleep. She opened her eyes to find Darcy setting a mug down on the bedside table. “Thanks.”
“It’s the least I can do before dragging you out of bed.”
Emerson sat up and reached for the mug. “Where are you dragging me?”
“Only to the door, I’m afraid. It’s a little after eight and Liam will be home at nine.”
Emerson sipped her coffee while her still-fuzzy mind processed Darcy’s words. Liam. Right. Darcy’s rules of engagement surely didn’t include the option of Liam coming home to find a stranger in his mom’s bed. Or a friend, for that matter. “Right. I’ll go.”
Darcy put a hand on her shoulder. “Enjoy your coffee. That’s why I woke you up now, so you wouldn’t have to rush out.”
“You’ve got a whole system, don’t you?”
Darcy shrugged. “It makes life easier.”
Emerson couldn’t fault her for that. Even if the idea of there being a system left her a little deflated. “If I haven’t said as much, I’m impressed by how together you are.”
Darcy smiled. “Thanks. I’m lucky. I have a lot of help.”
“But still, you’re doing the bulk of it on your own. You’re the one who keeps it going. And you still manage to make time for yourself. So many moms get sucked into being the martyr.”
Darcy laughed. “I still have moments of guilt.”
“You shouldn’t. I’m sure Liam is more self-sufficient and more confident because of it. And you’re setting a good example on maintaining that balance.”
Darcy’s face softened and she took a deep breath. “That might be the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“A good note to leave on, then.” Emerson climbed out of bed and pulled on her clothes from the night before.
“I had a great time last night.”
Emerson smiled. “Me, too. Does this mean we get to do it again?”
“I’d like that.”
“Look, I don’t mean to be weird or anything…”
Darcy slipped on her robe and wondered where Emerson was going. Nothing good ever followed that line. “But?”
“But I just want you to know that I’m game to hang out with you just about any time. With or without Liam. I mean, at the moment, I’m feeling partial to the non-Liam time, but I’ll take either happily.”
“Oh.” Totally not what she was expecting.
Emerson sipped her coffee, looking casual and relaxed. “I guess I wanted to say it out loud. I know you’re a one or the other kind of woman, but I’m hoping when it comes to us, we can do both/and.”
Darcy nodded, letting Emerson’s words sink in. Emerson wasn’t asking for things between them to change. Maybe she could relax a little. Liam knew she was dating and seemed completely fine with it. He certainly loved Emerson, and by all accounts the feeling was mutual. Between Liam’s show at the library and his birthday coming up, it might be nice to have Emerson there as her girlfriend.
“Why do I get the feeling I said exactly the wrong thing?”
Darcy shook her head. “No, not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”
Emerson gave her a quizzical look. “Opposite of what?”
Darcy ran a hand through her hair. “I was thinking the both/and thing has its merits.”
“Oh. I was worried there for a second.”
Darcy picked up her coffee, which she’d set on the dresser when she came in. “If anyone is going to worry in this scenario, it’s going to be me.”
Emerson crossed the room and kissed her. A quick kiss—sweet, innocent almost. “How about neither of us worry?”
Could it be as easy as that? Say the word and no more worry? No, but she could appreciate the sentiment. And Emerson wasn’t flip; she didn’t say things because she was suppo
sed to. “I’m not sure I can do that, but I’ll try to worry less.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Do you want a quick breakfast before you go?”
Emerson waved a hand. “No, no. I’m going to get out of your hair so you have a few minutes to yourself before Liam gets home.”
Darcy wasn’t the kind of woman who looked for signs. For the most part, she went out of her way not to read meaning into coincidences or passing comments. But she couldn’t ignore that Emerson said and did all the right things—not the perfect, movie script sort of things, but the things that mattered to her. “Thanks. I’ll see you later this week, at Liam’s show?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Darcy took their coffee cups to the kitchen, then walked Emerson to the door. When Emerson reached for the knob to open it, Darcy stopped her. She leaned in and kissed Emerson in a way that was anything but innocent. “I’ll let you know when Liam’s next sleepover is.”
Emerson’s smile was slow and sexy. “Please do. I wouldn’t want to miss that, either.”
*****
Emerson arrived home to find Will already up and gone. She’d left a note, not with her whereabouts, but a hope that Emerson’s night had been worth the wait. She even included a winky face. Emerson shook her head. It was probably for the best that she and Will hadn’t gone to college together, but these little glimpses of what it might have been like made her happy.
She contemplated a shower, but decided she’d earned going back to bed for a little while. She stripped down to her underwear and flopped on the mattress, pulling the covers up and falling asleep almost instantly. When she woke, it was nearly noon. A far more civilized hour.
Still no sign of Will. Emerson showered and got dressed. After checking the weather—mid seventies and sunny—she gathered up a large pad, easel, and portable kit of watercolors and brushes. Photos for inspiration worked fine, but there was no substitute for the real thing. She wrote Will a reply note and headed to the beach.
Since she knew she wouldn’t see Darcy at the café, Emerson made a quick stop at Cumbie’s for an iced coffee and a sandwich before making the short drive to Race Point. The lot already held a few dozen cars. High season wouldn’t kick in until July, but weekends were busy already, especially when the weather was good.