by Karis Walsh
But this morning’s taping had been an eye-opener, reminding her how this industry operated, how the camera lied. The host had been all smiles and gushing praise of Baxter and Pickwick, but once the spot was in the can, she was ready to move on to something new, with equal enthusiasm. In this case, a pop star who was designing swimsuits for a department store chain. She couldn’t really blame the host who was, after all, just doing her job. Performing.
Lenae finished buckling Baxter’s harness and stood. When she reached out, Cara grabbed her hand, holding on to it as if it were the only real thing in the studio.
“Do you want to get some food? Or find a seat in the audience?” Lenae asked.
Cara wrapped Pickwick’s leash around one wrist and tucked her other hand in Lenae’s elbow. “What I want is to meander back to our hotel and order room service.”
Chapter Twenty-one
“Where do you want to go?” Lenae asked once they were back outside on the crowded sidewalk. She felt Cara close beside her and couldn’t resist touching her arm, for companionship and not comfort. She had been intimidated by the New York crowds for the first month or two when she had moved to the city, but she had quickly grown accustomed to the energy of so many people milling past her.
“I want to feel your New York,” Cara said, leaning close to Lenae’s ear when she spoke.
Distracted by the rush of soft breath, Lenae hesitated for a moment. “You mean my old apartment? The Three-N building?” She’d take Cara to those places if she wanted, but retracing the steps she had taken with Traci would be painful for her.
“Not so literal. I don’t know how to explain, but when we walked down to the Sound when you came to Evergreen, you seemed to experience it more deeply than I did. Every sense attuned to your surroundings. I see places, but not as dimensionally as you know them.”
“Not all the time,” Lenae said. She paused while she listened to the noises around her. She didn’t usually dwell on how much she actually perceived, or that she experienced things differently than a sighted person. “Sometimes I walk without noticing the world around me and sometimes I scarf down a cheeseburger without tasting it. But I do have to be aware of more than a single sense.”
“So show me your New York.”
“You’ll have to close your eyes.”
“And let Pickwick guide me?”
“No way,” Lenae said with a laugh. “He’ll march you right in front of a speeding cab. Just close your eyes and tell me what you smell.”
Cara gripped Lenae’s arm and stood silently for a moment. “Breathe normally,” Lenae told her. “You don’t need to sniff like Pickwick around a tree trunk.”
Cara punched her lightly on the arm. “Fine. Breathe normally. All I smell is exhaust. No, there’s more. Chanel. It’s yours, but it’s on my skin after last night.”
“Mmm. Good start,” Lenae said. The memory of having Cara in full-body contact with her made her ache deep inside. “Why don’t we continue this exercise in my hotel room?”
“That’s where I plan to end it,” Cara said. “Wait, I’m getting something else. Yeast, I think, or fresh bread. Greasy meat. Are you hungry?”
“That’s why I suggested the hotel room,” Lenae said, but she caught the same smells Cara had detected and her stomach growled.
“My newly acute hearing tells me you want lunch,” Cara said.
“I do. Keep your eyes closed, and we’ll have Baxter find the restaurant. If there’s greasy meat involved, he’ll take us there with no problem.”
They moved along the sidewalk a bit awkwardly as Baxter led Lenae, with Cara clutching her arm, and Pickwick trying to go in his own direction. Lenae had expected the morning of filming to turn into an all-day event as Cara networked at the studio, so she was thrilled to have a private day with her instead. She had been prepared to let last night be a fling, but her foolish heart was ready to extend the intimacy as long as possible.
Lenae opened the door for her bulky entourage. “Can you tell the type of food we’ll be eating?” she asked Cara, curious about how many clues she’d catch.
“I still smell hamburger and grease. Something fried. McDonald’s?”
Lenae laughed. “I think this place serves Russian food. I smell boiled potatoes and dill. Plus, the people at the table near us are speaking Russian.”
“Cheater,” Cara said. “You only told me to use my nose.”
“Next we’ll experience the world of taste,” Lenae said once they were seated, with the dogs settled under the table. “Open your eyes and go into the bathroom while I order our food, so you don’t know what we’re having.”
She heard the scrape of Cara’s chair and her footsteps as she walked away, but Cara came back almost immediately.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? How do I know what you’ll be sticking in my mouth?” Cara teased.
“You didn’t have any complaints last night,” Lenae said. She smiled when Cara made a sound between a cough and a groan. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Completely.”
Lenae ordered a variety of dishes while she thought about Cara’s admission. Once the waitress had left, she asked herself the same question. Did she trust Cara? When they’d first met, she would have answered with an emphatic no, but everything had changed. Or rather, nothing had changed. Cara was still the same person she had been, but now Lenae knew her. And trusted her, with her heart and soul.
Although her thoughts were serious, Lenae was able to laugh and enjoy her lunch with Cara. She fed her bites of food—luckily Pickwick was on hand to clean the floor of any dropped pieces—and let Cara try to guess the ingredients of each one. Their lighthearted companionship, something Lenae hadn’t expected to last beyond the karaoke bar, seemed to be the new norm for them. Touch was no longer an accidental or infrequent thing, as it had been in the past. Now they connected frequently and with a possessiveness Lenae was surprised to find she enjoyed.
“Do you know what you just ate?” she asked, wiping her thumb across Cara’s mouth in case she had dropped any flakes of pastry.
“Something with spinach, yuk. And dough.”
“A knish,” Lenae said. She fed a piece of the potato dumpling to each of the dogs. “Are you getting full? We can go outside and try sense number three.”
“Are we at touch yet?”
“We haven’t stopped touching all day,” Lenae said. She wanted to be back in the room with Cara, alone with her and naked, but she was reluctant at the same time. Would this last between them once the trip was over? Was it a city-specific fling, or something real? Lenae didn’t know how to ask.
Cara kept her eyes pressed closed while Lenae paid their bill and walked her back to the sidewalk. She felt the touch of the sun on her face, but it didn’t compare with the heat where Lenae was holding her arm. Unexpected and wonderful. Last night, the easy banter during the show, this experience with senses. Cara hadn’t had time to think about where they were going. She was just enjoying the feeling of traveling together for the moment.
“Now, listen,” Lenae said.
Cara felt her close, got lost in the breathy timbre of Lenae’s voice. She didn’t care if she heard anything else.
“What do you hear?”
“Cars driving by. Honking horns. People talking.”
“Okay, that’s what you expect to hear. Now think about sound as a vibration. What do you feel?”
Cara grew still. Lenae was right. Cara hadn’t really been hearing the traffic and the people around her. She knew they were there, so she named them. She tuned into her own heartbeat, then to the charge between her and Lenae, as real as if it were an electrical current connecting them. She heard the dogs moving on the pavement. Other footsteps. As her awareness spread out, she noticed a bird far away, the clop of a horse’s hooves, and the smoother sound of the cart it pulled. She felt the music of the city seep inside her.
“Is that the subway?” she asked, opening her eyes in surprise.
�
��Yes, I felt it, too. Rumbling away underground. Amazing what you can hear when you let yourself feel.”
“Speaking of touch,” Cara said. She had enjoyed the lesson in environmental immersion, but she was hungry for more than lunch now. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel and I’ll take over for the last two senses?”
“Sounds good to me,” Lenae said.
Cara hailed a cab even though they were easily within walking distance of the hotel. She had waited long enough, with Lenae holding her arm and feeding her bites of food. The sensations had piled up until Cara thought she might burst with awareness if she didn’t have Lenae to herself.
She took over for Baxter and led them into the elevator and down the hall to her room. “Do you want to know what I see and feel?” Cara asked.
“Yes,” Lenae whispered. She linked her arms around Cara’s neck.
“I see lips slightly open, waiting to be kissed. They’re beautiful and pink, but I remember how red and bruised by kisses they were this morning. And I see just the tip of your very talented tongue. I remember that from last night, too.”
Lenae laughed and Cara swooped in for a kiss while her mouth was relaxed and open. Lenae’s tongue, merely hinted at before, slid over her own. Cara sucked it deeply into her mouth before letting it go. “The textures of you amaze me,” she said, punctuating her words with soft touches from her fingertips. “Your tongue is rough. And your teeth”—Cara laughed as Lenae bit her finger—“are sharp. Your lips are soft, but it’s a different kind of soft than the skin of your cheek or your inner thigh. I love the tingle on my skin when I brush my hand through your hair or over the downy curl of your lashes.”
Cara pulled Lenae’s shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. She cupped Lenae’s small breasts and rubbed her thumbs over her nipples. “I love how tight and hard you get when I touch you. Goose bumps, like you’re getting a chill, but your skin is fiery hot. When I see you arch your back and push your breasts toward me, I almost lose my mind.”
Cara leaned over and took a taut nipple into her mouth. She sucked gently, gliding her tongue over the puckered surface of Lenae’s tender skin. She pulled her head back and laughed as Lenae tightened her hold on the back of Cara’s head and urged her forward. “Your grip changes,” she said. “You hold me tight sometimes, tugging on my hair. And gently other times, like a caress. And when you orgasm? Your hand goes limp but stays tangled, close to my scalp.”
“What else…do you feel?” Lenae asked with a gasp as Cara knelt in front of her and pushed her back against the closed door.
Cara unbuttoned Lenae’s slacks and slid them and her underwear to the floor. She put her hands against Lenae’s thighs and pressed her legs apart. “I feel muscles, strong from so much walking. Tendons that contract when you’re trying to pull me deeper inside you. A wetness that’s more welcoming and healing than the finest spa on earth.”
Lenae’s fingers clenched in Cara’s hair. “Tell me…more.”
Cara made lazy circles with her fingers around Lenae’s wet lips. “You’re full of fascinating textures here, too. Some places are smooth, others rough. Soft and hard at the same time. Your muscles clench like you’re powerful, but weak enough to collapse. Your skin moves under my fingers when you start to shiver and your inner thigh muscles tremble. And when you come?” Cara asked as Lenae’s orgasm crashed over her. “When you come, I feel and taste and smell and hear and see…heaven.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Lenae stood in her closet and sifted through her outfits. She had everything carefully arranged by color, by seasonal fabric, and by function. She had work clothes from her old job and casual outfits suitable for training dogs. She didn’t have any date-with-Cara clothes.
She chose navy slacks and a silver silk shirt from her business clothes. The premiere of a new play at Seattle’s ACT would be dressy, but not formal. She had been surprised when Cara called and invited her to the opening night. She had spoken to Cara’s dad, of course, but had never met any of her family. She wasn’t expecting warmth and cuddliness from them, not after some of the stories Cara had told her, but she knew the level of talent she could expect from them. She had read reviews of the play and was looking forward to hearing Cara’s brother in the starring role, but even more, she was curious about what it would be like to be out with Cara. Their karaoke night had been a sort of date, but this was different. Meeting the girlfriend’s parents in a way, although those words hadn’t been explicitly spoken. She’d be in Cara’s hometown, in her milieu, around her family. Lenae had no doubt Cara would be affected by all the variables, and she wasn’t sure what to expect. The on-air Cara, or the woman who had become her lover?
Lenae groomed Baxter before brushing her own hair and getting dressed. She had spent two days in New York with Cara last week, not being apart from her for more than a few minutes at a time. Wonderful days, but separate from daily life. Lenae came back to her settled life here at the center, but Cara’s future was less certain. She hadn’t mentioned the possible job with the morning show, but it never was far from Lenae’s mind. So much so that she hadn’t expected their brief affair to continue once they returned to Washington. She’d prepared herself for a breakup and had heard her own voice grow colder and more distant during the flight home.
Cara had seemed distracted herself, disappearing from Lenae’s life for the past week, and Lenae had accepted the inevitable—but quiet and mature—end to their short affair. Cara’s call had been welcome, but unexpected. Mostly because Lenae thought their fling was done, but also because she’d never have imagined Cara would invite her to a very public Bradley family event.
*
Cara pulled up in front of the house and saw Lenae sitting on the porch. She was stunning. Simply dressed, as always, but with a refined elegance that suited her almost-regal, somewhat-serious face and body. Cara had missed that body over the past few days. She’d missed the way Lenae was able to let go of her composure with abandon when they were in private and attuned to one another. She’d missed the moments when she was lying on top of Lenae with their fingers twined together, holding Lenae’s hands against the pillow while she kissed her way down Lenae’s body. Neither one of them had been able to keep control for long.
Cara got out of the car and straightened her simple black silk tank. She put Pickwick in the backseat, but he jumped into the front again. She left him there, hoping he’d stay put once Baxter was in the backseat with him. She was not letting the puppy call shotgun if Lenae was going to be in the car.
“Hey, stranger,” Lenae said. She stood when Cara stepped onto the porch. Baxter wagged his tail and grinned at her, and she walked over to give him a pat and Lenae a lingering kiss.
“Hey, yourself. You’re beautiful.”
Lenae brushed her fingers over Cara’s hair and face. “So are you. You’re…familiar to me.”
Cara inhaled sharply at the words, holding herself still while Lenae touched her even though she wanted to touch Lenae right back. Lenae’s exploration of her face and body—begun last week and continued now—had made Cara feel known like never before.
“Thanks for agreeing to go with me tonight.” Cara had always felt the need to protect herself from her own dates, never certain of their true motives, the few times she brought women around her family. She wasn’t accustomed to having someone who would be able to protect her from their slings and arrows. She smiled and took Lenae’s hand as they walked to her car. She let go only long enough to get the dogs situated in the back and the humans up front, and then she linked their hands again and rested them on Lenae’s thigh. She felt the security of their connection and a confidence she’d never had when taking a date to one of the many Bradley openings or awards ceremonies or screenings. Lenae was here with her, not using her but with her. Cara hadn’t ever had such complete faith in another person before.
Lenae held Cara’s hand in her left and used the fingernails of her right hand to gently skim over Cara’s wrist. “What fam
ily members am I going to meet tonight? What are they like?”
“My dad you’ve met over the phone already,” Cara said, as if Lenae needed reminding. “He’s a sportscaster, but he did some stage work when he was younger. He met my mom in Ashland, Oregon when he was a regular cast member in the Shakespeare festival there, and she was brought in to do a starring role as Lady Macbeth. He moved with her to Los Angeles and got into the news side of television. They moved to Seattle when Mom was cast in a medical drama filmed around here. It went off the air, but her new sitcom was set in Seattle specifically for her.”
Cara’s responses were more about their acting careers than about their personalities, but she didn’t know any other way to describe them.
“What about your brother?”
“He’s brilliant. He followed in Dad’s footsteps and did Shakespeare before coming to A Contemporary Theatre in Seattle. He’s starred in plenty of plays at ACT, but he’s more a playwright and director than actor now, so there’s lots of buzz when he’s onstage instead of behind the scenes. Mom and Dad pushed him to be a film star, but he loves the theater too much to leave. He’s respected and adored, and he cares more about that than making the millions my parents envisioned for him.” Cara felt her voice warm a little when she talked about Richard, and she was much more at ease when Lenae changed the subject to the play they were going to see.
“Mourning Becomes Electra is one of my favorite plays,” Lenae said.
Cara was enjoying the process of shifting from reciting her parents’ resumes to a more relaxed state. Just being with Lenae helped ease the knots of tension she felt inside. Lenae’s ability to get through to Cara this way was intoxicating.
“Richard adores Eugene O’Neill, so ACT puts on one of his plays every so often as a way to entice him back to the stage. He can’t resist, but I believe his real love is writing.”