Island Skye

by Fox Brison

I also cried for myself and my brothers. It was cathartic. It was freeing.

  “You’d like her Mam,” I said, the rain flattening my hair to my head. “I love her.” My dress was now plastered like a second skin but I didn’t care. I smiled and returned to my car.

  It was time to go home.

  ***

  Natalie was waiting where I’d left her, watching the flames in the stove lighting the dark living room. She stood when I entered. “You’re soaking wet,” she said stating the obvious.

  “Truer words.” My teeth chattered.

  She already had my heart and with that one benign conversation I knew I was ready to give her everything else.

  “Natalie, I need you, I need you now.”

  She looked at me and smiled, in relief I thought. “Are you sure?” she whispered and led me into the bedroom.

  “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,”

  I don’t think I’ll ever forget the next few hours, it’s tattooed permanently in my mind. Her hands were gentle, slow and tender and her kisses melted my bones until I was a quivering mess. I tried to hurry her, I was beginning to come apart, but she was having none of it. “I’ve waited so long for this,” she whispered as she unzipped my dress, the pounding rain, the pounding of my heart, the pounding of my blood as it rushed southwards providing a percussive backing to the symphony of love between us.

  Each inch that was uncovered was meticulously kissed, her lips leaving a faint trace on my skin. She slipped her hands down my arms, my dress following them and pooling at my feet and I stepped away from it.

  Natalie had seen me naked before, kind of. I presumed she’d caught a peek when we’d slept together at the hotel. And of course when she’d helped me undress after my Hobthrush adventure.

  But nothing prepared me for the look in her eye when I stood before her completely bare and vulnerable. “Beautiful,” she whispered. There was something almost awestruck in her voice and I lifted my head to look into her eyes. They were deep pools filled with desire. “Beautiful,” she repeated. She made me feel it, something I don’t think any of my other lovers had ever done, in fact, I knew they hadn’t. She kissed me then.

  And my pain evaporated.

  If there was a world cup for kissing, with Natalie in the team England would win every tournament.

  Her hand cupped my breast as her thumb stroked my nipple and pressing my body against hers, I moaned. She walked me backwards to the bed, her lips never leaving mine, her hand caressing first one breast and then the other.

  She laid me gently onto the bed and covered me with her body, her mouth replacing her hand on my nipple. She licked around the areola, the skin puckering as my hips arched from the bed, but she pushed me down, held me down as I reached for her. “I want you, Skye, I want to touch you, taste every part of you. I want to make love to you until you forget everything apart from the feeling of me inside you.”

  Talking during sex? Not usually a favourite of mine. When Natalie did it, in that husky lust filled tone?

  It was magical.

  I moaned and writhed beneath her hands, hands that knew exactly what my body needed. Her tongue traced a pattern over my stomach and headed to my core.

  I wasn’t just moaning now, I was begging. I needed her, I needed her to taste me, I needed her to be inside me. I needed her to take me, and take me now. “Please Nat, inside,” I could barely speak, “oh god,” was about all I could manage. “Nat, oh god Nat!” Her tongue licked along my length and I grabbed at her head pulling her closer, pulling her deeper as I pleaded…

  And then she was inside me, her fingers curling to find my sweet spot. I cried out in unrestrained joy. We’d engaged in emotional foreplay for the last six weeks and I was so desperate for her touch that it didn’t take long. I was coming, my muscles contracting as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through my body.

  “Hey, Skye, darling, it’s alright,” she held me tight.

  “I’m sorry,” I managed between sobs. “No-one has ever made me feel so special, so beautiful or so wanted before.”

  “Good,” Natalie said, “because you deserve to feel all of those things. I’m just glad it’s me who gets to make you feel them.”

  I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, how my heart would almost rip out of my chest when she was in the room, how I felt safe when I was in her arms, how her smile made me feel like I could conquer the world. I held back because I didn’t want her to think it was the great sex talking. Because it wasn’t. I loved this woman. I loved her more than anything else and now, now I wanted to show her.

  “My turn,” I whispered.

  ***

  I hadn’t realised just how much I’d been holding back from other lovers until the first morning I woke in Natalie’s arms. “No regrets?” she asked, hesitantly.

  “None.” I kissed her, hoping she’d feel the depth and strength of love I felt for her and tears shone in her eyes. “Last night was the first time I’ve ever made love.”

  “Really?” I saw her smug smile.

  “Aye, stud. And now…”

  “And now?” she asked with a twinkle.

  “And now it’s the morning’s turn for a first.”

  Chapter 30

  Skye

  “How important is it you go to Durham tonight?” Natalie called from the kitchen where she was making tea. I was working in the front room, so I didn’t really hear her question.

  “Hmm? Yes, milk and one sugar.”

  “One sugar? Skye?”

  “One sugar please. And some of your Mam’s lemon meringue pie please.” I was chuffed. After spending years on one diet after another, desperate to lose the puppy fat that seemed to dog me, (oh yes. The pun queen is in da house! I gave myself a mental cheer,) I was now firming up. The early morning jogs were helping, as were the weights Natalie started me on. I still wasn’t sure about yoga mind you. Some of the poses were distinctly awkward looking and I felt like I was even more of a lump when I tried to do them. I refocussed on the computer screen. Damn. This last paragraph made about as much sense as a cat eating bananas.

  “I thought, ‘why dirty a plate, when I can just smear myself with the pie and you can lick it off my stomach’. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good,” I agreed. “Hang on. What?” Okay so that got my attention. Oh yes, that definitely grabbed my attention and was doing interesting things to my body.

  “Cold?” No, I wasn’t cold and she damned well knew it. Sometimes I could strangle that woman. She could make me shiver and wriggle with a simple question.

  “Natalie Jeffries you now have my full attention-”

  “Well I have the attention of two parts of your body, so it’s all good for me,” I raised my eyebrows and she grinned, impishly. “I asked if it was deadly you went to Durham tonight.”

  “Not life or death, no,” I hedged.

  “I got a call from my agent this morning. They want me down at St George’s Park for the next couple of days. I was planning on leaving late this evening and staying overnight.”

  “Sounds fun,”

  “Not,” she said with a grimace. “I hate sponsorship events. Some git with a camera pointing out your flaws. And it usually takes hours. We’re in front of the camera for like, five minutes and the rest of the time we’re hanging around.”

  “So what’s it in aid of?” Obviously I had some idea of what the playing side of her career entailed, but the sponsorship and media elements not so much.

  “A couple of things. The new England kit for one, and they’re trying to drum up interest in the woman’s premier league. Sky Sports will be there and they’ve asked me to do an interview with Marianne Williams for their women in sport magazine.”

  “Wow, okay. That sounds cool. And way more interesting than sitting around Durham watching me work.” I thought that was the end of the conversation and I was now staring at my lemon meringue pie with lascivious thoughts. We had enough time… Natalie ran her fingers through her
hair. Jack and pot! I think she was having the same idea.

  She wasn’t.

  “I was wondering whether you’d like to come with me,” her voice was small, nervous, something I rarely associated with her.

  “To St George’s Park?” She nodded and stared into her mug. “To watch your photo shoot?” She nodded again and a slight flush rose on her cheeks. I placed my hand on hers until she looked at me. “Sweetie, I’d love to…” I grimaced. “But…”

  “It’s okay,” she said quickly, clearly disappointed.

  “I’m so sorry, Nat, but I have several meetings I can’t get out of. I need to talk to my faculty chair about resuming my teaching…”

  “Honestly, it’s late notice, I know.” She kissed my cheek. “Another time?”

  “For sure,” I promised.

  “Now eat your pie and back to work, wench.”

  “Yes dear,” I teased.

  “I like that. I can imagine us, fifty years from now, all grey haired and wrinkly in our woolly cardies…” Natalie leant down and kissed my lips. I moaned into it as her tongue teased them open.

  “So you’ll still be trying to jump me every five minutes in fifty years’ time?”

  “Too bloody right I will.” She knelt on the floor and I opened my legs, allowing her to scoot closer. I wrapped my legs around her waist and pulled tight. Zero-to turned on in nought point two seconds was a record, even for us. Her breast brushed mine and I moaned again. Threading my fingers through her hair I held her in place, deepening the kiss. Natalie pushed me back, until I was lying in the sofa and she was on top of me, her whole body pressing down onto mine. Nestled between my legs I felt her hips push forward, gently, and my body responded immediately.

  I moved my pelvis upwards, desperate for some relief from the tingling that was coursing through my body. She moved from kissing my lips to nibbling my neck and her hands quickly found their way under my t-shirt.

  Thankfully I was wearing one of my fancy lace bras rather than the usual white cotton ones I favoured.

  Her thumb brushed over the top of my nipple and I nearly leapt from the sofa. It was as if an electric wire was connecting my breasts to my core and if I thought I was wet before, I was currently in need of flood relief. There were no sounds but our ragged breathing and my moans of both pleasure and frustration as I tried to touch her breasts, but her polo shirt wasn’t playing the game and it was still tucked firmly into her jeans. Natalie sensed my angst, it was either that or the growl I let out, “Shirt, off, now.” She lifted from me and was about to reveal her glory when I thought I heard something clatter in the kitchen.

  “What was that?” I asked

  “Nothing,” Natalie replied as she took off her top.

  “Skye… Natalie?” Our heads both snapped up as Mrs. Jeffries called our names.

  “Shit!” I pushed Natalie off of me. “It’s your mother! Nat, quick go and stop her.” But it was too late and Mrs Jeffries walked into the front room.

  “Oh… oh my. I’m sorry…” Mrs Jeffries was mortified but not as much as I was. Natalie managed to get her shirt back on and was looking half respectable; all I managed to do was get my top on inside out and back to front. “I was just bringing over some fresh rolls for the soup. Natalie said you were having soup…”

  Natalie got up off the sofa and put her arm around her mother, barely managing to suppress her laughter. “Thanks for that, Mam. C’mon, we’ll put the kettle on.”

  “I… er… I don’t want to disturb you.”

  “Oh you aren’t, Mrs Jeffries, I was just putting the finishing touches to my summer project,” I explained.

  “Yes, I could see that, pet.” Natalie and her mum burst out laughing and went through to the kitchen whilst I straightened myself up. Flashbacks to when I was eighteen flew across my mind but I ignored them. It wasn’t the same.

  “Seriously, I’m changing the doors in this cottage so they lock automatically,” I whispered into Natalie’s ear when I joined them in the kitchen.

  ***

  So instead of driving down the A1 to Burton on Trent with Natalie, I was sitting in a stuffy office in Durham listening to my faculty chair waffle on about the new academic year.

  I was bored.

  I surreptitiously looked at my mobile for the seventh time; another text, this one from Sara. Hmm. She was right, of course. I could have got out of these meetings, quite easily really, as my input was perfunctory at best.

  So why was I here instead of with Natalie at the luxurious Hilton at St George’s Park?

  “I need to go,” I stood abruptly. I was letting Natalie down; when I should have been there to support her like she had done with me all summer, I had cowered back to Durham.

  “Ms Donaghie?” Doctor Robertson frowned in my direction.

  “I’m sorry, Doctor, but I won’t be resuming my lecturing duties until after Michaelmas term, as agreed.”

  “But my dear,” I hated when he called the female lecturers that. Totally old school and misogynistic; it reeked of everything that was wrong with the university.

  “I prefer Skye, or Ms Donaghie.” I nodded to the others in the room, even managing to catch a supportive grin from Diana. “I’ll be in touch.” I exited the room with a spring in my step. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me (apart from Nat of course. Christ with these many smart one liners, I’d soon be starring at the Edinburgh fringe) but I was filled with a new found sense of hope. I almost didn’t recognise the emotion, it was such a rare beast in my world.

  “Hey, Sara,” I swiped to answer her call. I had ignored the last few.

  “So Nat’s in-”

  “Burton. I know. She’s finalising the paperwork with her agent.” I didn’t tell her I was busy packing to join Natlaie. I wanted it to be a surprise and knew Sara would more than likely let the cat out of the bag. I heard muffles from the other end of the phone; she was obviously shouting at someone, probably her kids.

  “Oh thank god.” Sara said with some relief.

  Huh? “Thank God she’s in Burton?”

  “Oh ha ha. No thank god she told you about the transfer, especially as the paperwork is ready, that’s what’s been holding everything up. Skye, I know I haven’t always been behind the two of you getting together, but I’m really happy you are now. America’s going to be great.”

  I stopped packing and sat down on my bed. Transfer? America? “No, I mean, yeah, it’ll be good. Great in fact,” I said. Liar, liar… pants no longer on fire.

  “I can’t wait to come and visit the both of you out there. I mean I’m assuming you’re going. Skye? You are going to Boston aren’t you?”

  “Boston?” I whispered. “Yes… of course…”

  “I’m so glad Nat finally told you and it all worked out. She was frightened she’d scare you off, that you wouldn’t have given her a chance if you thought she was flying half way around the world to play footy.” Sara laughed and I chuckled. Kind of. It was a bit strangled. Wow. Natalie’s dream had finally come true. But where did I fit in? “It’s a shame you weren’t with her, I know she wanted to take you out for a romantic meal to celebrate.”

  My mind ran through my meagre formal wardrobe and I picked out my midnight blue dress. Natalie’s tongue will be trailing the floor. I smiled. I’d made the decision much swifter than I thought I ever would, it was an almost Pavlovian response to Sara’s call. “I’d better go, Sara, I’m due back in a minute.” I wasn’t. I was zipping up my case and heading for my car.

  “Okay, I’ll speak to you tomorrow?”

  “You certainly will!” I was actually really excited for Natalie. Of course I was worried about where it left us, but I loved her and I had three hundred miles, five hours and six months of sabbatical to work out the fine details.

  Chapter 31

  Skye

  The drive to Burton upon Trent wasn’t actually that long and I arrived at the Hilton just after three in the afternoon. The journey down was straightforward and I wailed along
to Adele and Lady Gaga rather than the boom boom of techno music I suffered when driving anywhere with Sara.

  The weather was also playing its part. It was glorious. I wore sunglasses, my favourite fifties style tortoiseshell, and even with frequent stops for coffee it flew. Maybe it was anticipation. Maybe it was realisation. Maybe it was the fact I was heading to a five star hotel to tell my utterly sexy girlfriend I was in love with her.

  The hotel was brand spanking new and wow, did it show. I’d rarely stayed in hotels, preferring self-catering accommodation; not that I holidayed much, I was a bit of a home bird. There were, of course, the ubiquitous leaflets offering the various services the hotel offered, as well as what we could find to do in the area. I didn’t think we’d have much time to sightsee, but I picked up a couple anyway.

  The receptionist wouldn’t tell me what room Nat was staying in, but allowed me to leave my case with him so that I could go and find her. Natalie had texted me her schedule earlier in the day so that I’d know when it was safe to call, therefore I knew she was at the training ground modelling her England kit in the sun. I smiled to myself and headed out. Surely it couldn’t be that hard to find a photoshoot around here?

  It really wasn’t difficult at all.

  And I wished I’d stayed at home.

  Sara inferred Natalie was a player, but to see it with my own eyes was one hell of a wake-up call. Harriet Davis. Why the hell did Harriet not only have her lips locked on my girlfriend’s, but have her legs wrapped around her waist too? My eyes prickled, then the tears I battled vainly to hold back, ran down my face. The picture of the two women clasped together would forever be acid etched into my memory and I scrubbed my eyes, trying to erase the sight. I knew I wasn’t good enough for Natalie, knew that I wasn’t sexy and gorgeous like Harriet was, but to witness such betrayal with my own eyes…

  I didn’t know if my heart would ever recover.

  I turned and ran back to the hotel. The receptionist looked concerned at my tear streaked face but I waved off his worries. Safely back in my car, I watched Natalie and a few of her teammates entering the lobby, their long legs, silky hair and perfect bodies mocking me.