by Harper Bliss
“It’s not so much that I disagree. It’s more that I would prefer Juliette to deal with her own issues instead of someone else’s.” Nadia paused to drink more. “I know what she’s like. It will consume her. There will be no room in her mind for anything else. Not for me, and not for our wedding. She’ll burn herself out again, and who will have to pick up the pieces?”
“Ah. It’s like that.” Margot had hoped for a conversation about politics, not more relationship troubles.
“It’s okay,” Nadia said, as though reading her mind, “let’s talk about something else. Why did you want to come here?” She leaned her body closer to Margot’s. “To forget?” She followed up with a saucy wink.
“A rebound fuck, you mean?” Not really Margot’s style, but she dreaded going home alone tonight more than anything.
Nadia chuckled in reply. “If it were anyone else, I’d be encouraging them, but I know you better than that.”
“I wouldn’t rule it out completely.” Margot couldn’t look Nadia in the eyes.
“Oh, Margot.” Nadia put a hand on her arm. “How about if I go home with you? I’ve got nowhere else to be.”
Margot let her head hang low. “It hurts, you know? It’s not as if this break-up is a huge surprise and that I didn’t see it coming from a mile away, but it hurts nonetheless. All the more so because it’s my fault.”
“I know it hurts.” Nadia squeezed her fingers tightly around her arm. “But I’m not sure this is the best place for you to start feeling better. It’s more someone like Steph’s scene.” She flashed her a smile. “I hate to say it, but I think we’re too old for this shit.”
Margot looked up, and straight into the face of a girl who seemed too young to be allowed into a night club. The music thudded aggressively in her ears, speeding up her heart rate. A place like this had never been her scene.
“You’re right,” she said. “Take me home, Nadz. I’ve had enough.”
NADIA
When Nadia arrived home on Saturday morning, her brain drumming against her skull after emptying an entire bottle of whiskey at Margot’s, she found Claire in bed with Juliette.
“Hey babe,” Juliette said, blinking against the light. Claire lay fully dressed on top of the duvet. Only her shoes stuck out from underneath the bed. The room smelled of half-digested alcohol. Nadia felt exactly like the tableau she was witnessing, and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed with Juliette and Claire, sleep through the hangover, and let the day pass.
“Hey.” She shot Juliette a half-smile.
Claire woke with a start, gripping her head in the process. “Oh, shit.” She looked around in a disoriented fashion. Gave herself, and her fully-dressed state, a quick once-over—for reassurance, Nadia presumed. “Sorry Nadz, must have fallen asleep.” Claire pushed herself up a bit more and looked at Nadia intently. “How is she?”
“Same as you, I guess.” Nadia wanted to cross the small distance from the doorframe to the bed and give Claire a big hug, because, after all, she’d introduced her to Margot, and she’d allowed for Inez to join the Saint-Vincent staff. “I’m so sorry,” she said instead.
Last night, to Nadia’s surprise, Margot had easily kept up with Nadia’s more practiced pace of knocking back shots of whiskey, leaving her with a much more severe hangover than anticipated.
“I’d best get going.” Claire turned to Juliette. “Thanks, Jules,” she said.
“I can make us some breakfast,” Nadia offered, even though frying eggs was the last thing she felt like doing.
“That’s all right. Really.” Claire started looking around for her shoes. Nadia had never seen her so disheveled. “I’ll call you later, yeah? I need to be on my own for a bit.”
“Call me any time,” Juliette said. As self-centred as her fiancée could be, Nadia knew she would drop everything to offer her best friend the support she needed.
Claire nodded, slipped into her shoes and patted Nadia on the shoulder as she walked past her. Before opening the front door, she turned back and found Nadia’s eyes. “Tell her I’m very sorry I couldn’t get past it.”
“I will.” Nadia watched the door fall into the lock and re-focused her attention on Juliette.
“Come here.” Juliette tilted her head. “I missed you.”
“Oh really?” Nadia hopped on to the bed.
“There’s nothing like someone else’s relationship falling apart to make you realise what you’ve got… and when I say you I do mean me.” Juliette stretched out her arm, her warm hand slipping underneath the jacket Nadia was still wearing.
“I feel so bad about this, Jules. I know it’s silly, but I feel responsible in a way.”
“That’s because you’re too good-hearted for this world.” Juliette snuck her hand underneath Nadia’s blouse.
Nadia started shouldering off her coat and kicking off her shoes. “Keep going,” she said, after stretching herself out on the bed, facing Juliette, whose hand now cupped her chin. “You’re on the right track.”
“I know I’ve been a bad fiancée, babe. After Claire passed out, I couldn’t sleep because all I could think of was how much I’ve neglected you since we got engaged.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
Pangs of heat shot through Nadia’s flesh, warming her from the inside. Juliette’s words made her feel better, even though they had been inspired by their friends’ break-up. Still, Nadia wasn’t going to ruin the moment with a snide remark.
“We have the rest of our lives together,” she said, cradling Juliette’s hand in hers. “We have time.”
Juliette shook her head. “No.” She let her hand drop away from Nadia’s face, intertwining her fingers with Nadia’s. “My father had a heart attack. If nothing else, it at least makes me very aware of my own mortality. With my stressful lifestyle… what if I have a weak heart like him…”
“Oh, babe.” Nadia pulled her closer. “Don’t put thoughts like that into your head. You’re healthy. You’re in the prime of your life.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t need to start thinking about what’s most important to me.” Juliette’s voice broke a little.
“You need more balance, that’s all.” Nadia kissed Juliette on the forehead.
“I need you.” Juliette pushed herself away from Nadia, finding her eyes. “I’ve had a thought… perhaps a silly one.”
“Yes?” Nadia’s stomach tingled with curiosity.
“Instead of talking about it, and planning it in between leading our hectic lives, why don’t we just do it? Why don’t we just go to la mairie, sort the paper work, and get married?” Juliette painted that irresistible, loopy smile on her lips. “The only people we need to be there are Claire and Steph…” A brief pause. “And Margot, of course. And your parents…”
“And my brother,” Nadia added. “And his children. And I’d need to invite some of the board, and I’m sure Claire’s parents would want to be there—”
“No.” Juliette shook her head. “Just us. It can just be you and me for all I care, Nadz. I don’t need anyone else.”
“Are you serious?” Perhaps because of how weddings were always portrayed as big affairs, Nadia had never considered the possibility of a small, intimate do. Truth be told, out of principle, she hadn’t put that much thought into the practicalities of the whole matter, as long as Juliette was working like a maniac.
“Why not?” Juliette squeezed her hand a little tighter. “In the end, it’s only about you and me, anyway. About our life together.”
Nadia broke out into a smile. “I guess I never pictured you as an intimate wedding kind of woman.”
“Until recently, I wasn’t even the marrying kind. All I know is that I want to be your wife. I can’t really be fussed with all the rest… all that pomp and circumstance… Let’s just do it.”
Nadia started nodding. “Okay,” she said, “but I have one condition.”
“Anything.” Juliette smiled.
“Every little ste
p, even sorting the tiniest silly piece of paperwork, we take together.”
“Deal.”
“You say that now,” Nadia joked, “but we live in a country with possibly the most amount of red tape on the planet.”
“How hard can it be to get hitched?” Juliette fell onto her back. “And when I want something done swiftly, no civil servant is going to stand in my way.”
Nadia chuckled. “For some reason that sounds very arousing.”
“Oh yeah?” Juliette narrowed her eyes. “What are you going to do about that?”
Nadia pretended to think for a few long seconds. “You should take a shower.”
Juliette’s lips scrunched into a pout.
“No need for that,” Nadia said. “I’ll join you.”
Juliette rushed off the bed and stripped out of her pyjamas. Before heading into the en-suite she spun back around and blew Nadia a kiss. Nadia got rid of her clothes as quickly as possible while thinking that when she left Margot’s place earlier, this was the least expected welcome home she could have anticipated. Butterflies fluttered all over the place in her belly. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror flanking the door to the bathroom and grinned at her reflection.
The bathroom was filled with steam already. Juliette liked her showers as hot as possible, the scalding water turning her delicate skin deep pink. About as pink as when my hand lands on her ass, Nadia thought, although a spanking might be a bit too acrobatic in the space their tiny shower cubicle allowed. She probably couldn’t make it hurt enough.
Nadia flinched under the hot stream of water, but her body soon got used to it. Juliette had lathered most of her skin with soap already and stood next to her with dollops of white foam scattered over her body. Nadia couldn’t remember the last time they’d taken a shower together. It was one of these romantic activities that, as they grew older, turned out to be more impractical than arousing. But today was different. Today they had taken their engagement to a different level. They had made it more real. Nadia had absolutely no idea how long it would take to get a wedding date, but setting the date would be enough. A definite step in the right direction.
“Back against the wall,” Juliette instructed while grabbing Nadia by the hands.
Nadia slanted her head, giving Juliette an are-you-sure? look. But Juliette wasn’t having any of it and, too impatient to wait for Nadia to acquiesce of her own accord, pushed her against the tiled wall.
“What’s gotten into you?” Nadia asked, more out of habit than out of desire to get an answer.
“You.” Juliette stared into her eyes, water cascading down her face. “Fuck, Nadz. I love you so much. I need you to know that.”
“I do.” With that, Nadia shook her hand loose from Juliette’s grip and curled her own fingers around Juliette’s wrist. Without further ado, she brought Juliette’s hand between her legs. “See how wet I am for you already?”
Juliette brought her face close to Nadia’s, keeping eye contact. Slowly, she pushed two fingers inside of Nadia, making her breath hitch in her throat.
“So much for foreplay,” Nadia barely managed to say.
“Planning our wedding is all the foreplay we need,” Juliette said with a focused grin on her face. She was right.
“Oh christ.” Nadia had to steady herself, pressing her back hard against the wall. She’d loosened her grip on Juliette’s wrist and let the back of her head fall against the wall.
“No.” Juliette halted the motion of her fingers. “Look at me.”
Nadia’s eyes met Juliette’s and it was as though she could actually see how much her partner loved her in that wet glance of hers. How sorry she was for slipping into old patterns. For all the late nights and only listening to what Nadia said with half of her attention. So Nadia looked into Juliette’s eyes, and at her face, and that maddening mouth of hers, her lips twitching with the effort she made. Because she was increasing the pace of her fingers now, delving deeper, stealing more and more of Nadia’s breath. Nadia swallowed hard, meeting Juliette’s thrusts with her pelvis, demanding more, faster.
Juliette got the hint, because how could she not? They may not have regular sex in showers anymore, but after ten years together she knew exactly what made Nadia tip over the edge. So Juliette flicked her thumb over Nadia’s swollen clit, once, twice, and then in quick succession, while pushing hard inside of her, until Nadia’s knees buckled. She threw her arms around Juliette’s glistening wet shoulders and dug her nails into her flesh.
“Oh fuck,” she said, “I’m coming.” As if it needed to be said.
STEPH
Mere weeks ago, Steph had given up all hope of spending any Sunday of her life like this, waking up and looking straight at Dominique’s smiling face, the day stretching out lazily ahead of them. They’d spent the better part of Saturday in bed, and had both agreed to switch off their phones at eight o’clock last night.
“Morning,” Dominique said and, not waiting for Steph to say anything back, dragged the covers over her head and started making her way down. Down Steph’s belly. Positioning herself between Steph’s legs after spreading them wide.
Couldn’t be further removed from Le Noir, Steph thought, as Dominique pressed a first gentle kiss onto her inner thigh. Because now she didn’t have to imagine Dominique’s face anymore while someone else was going down on her, or try her hardest to push any memories of the sexy députée away, because Dominique’s tongue was approaching her pussy swiftly on this Sunday morning. Steph had no idea of the time. No idea of anything that had happened in the world outside of Dominique’s apartment since she’d set foot in it the day before. Her world only consisted of the two of them and, at the moment, Dominique’s expert tongue skirting her clit.
The first flick sent a tremor up her spine, and Steph couldn’t possibly imagine how she had willingly denied herself this pleasure, this love. For what? But, of course, everything had changed now, and they were, still, safely locked away in their bubble of reunion, and can’t-get-enough-of-each-other sex, hormones raging and having lost track of the orgasm count long ago.
Dominique teased, and dragged her tongue all the way along Steph’s pussy lips. Moments ago, while still half asleep, she’d been day-dreaming of a scenario like this, and now it was actually happening. In what world could anyone ever deny me this? Steph thought.
Under the duvet, she found Dominique’s head, and twirled a few fingers through her hair. It didn’t change anything about what Dominique was doing. The woman was an endless tease. She flicked her tongue over Steph’s clit briefly, before letting it slide through her wet pussy lips again. It didn’t matter to Steph how long Dominique made her wait for it, how long she spun out this session of early morning lovemaking… The only thing that mattered was that they were back together. And yes, it was messy. Juliette’s big plan still had large holes in it, and everything could backfire greatly, but the second Steph had allowed herself the tiniest flicker of doubt about her own rigid, but necessary, stance it hadn’t taken long before she’d fully caved. Because, in the end, no matter which route she took, it was always going to be hard, gut-wrenching and heartbreaking, and at least on this road, Dominique was by her side.
Because she had made herself forget. During those cold autumnal weeks without Dominique, she had successfully imagined a life without her—in theory, it hadn’t even been that hard. She had tried to stay away from newspapers, but a headline would catch her eye from time to time, and even in these moments when she was confronted with a picture of a broadly smiling Dominique Laroche, she had been able to make herself believe that a life by the side of a politician was inconceivable for the likes of her.
She had found a strange sort of solace at Le Noir. Mainly because of what it represented for someone like her: absolute freedom and zero judgement. She’d come close to finding her old self again. The one who didn’t negotiate about love and relationships, but steered clear. The first real crack had only come when Dominique had turned up a
t her doorstep. But Steph would have held on if it hadn’t been for the conversation with her bosses about, foolishly, wanting to make their country a friendlier, more welcoming place to live, followed by Nadia’s arms around her, and how the warmth of her friend’s body so close by had made her realise what it was she actually missed. The one thing she’d always consciously denied herself. The love of another woman.
That woman was applying excellent pressure to her clit right now, and Steph didn’t even care about the tears stinging behind her eyes. Despite it never being a clear cut matter of right and wrong—there were too many factors to take into consideration for that—she knew she had been wrong. If she had to suffer for Dominique, she should have chosen to do it by her side in the first place, not alone in her dingy studio, or on the dark, wet streets of Paris, chasing a thrill that, in the end, would never really satisfy her. Because, the truth was that Dominique Laroche had changed her forever.
“What’s wrong?” Dominique’s face appeared from underneath the covers.
“What?”
“Are you crying?” Dominique pushed herself towards Steph’s chest.
Steph brought her hands to her face and found her cheeks dotted with tears. She wiped away some of the moisture and shook her head.
“Was I doing it wrong, baby?” Dominique curved her lips into a soft grin.
“I—” Steph found herself almost unable to speak. “I’ve been holding on for so long.”
“Not just you.” Dominique climbed high enough to stroke Steph’s hair. “I was there too.”
“I never thought I’d think love was the most important thing in my life. That it would change me so much.” Any time before her reunion with Dominique, Steph would have snickered at words like that being uttered. “And to think that I was willing to let you go.” She snuck a hand up Dominique’s back and caressed her skin.