Vicki & Lara

by Raven ShadowHawk

  MEETING EACH OTHER SERIES

  Vicki & Lara

  by Raven ShadowHawk

  Meeting Each Other Series:

  Vicki & Lara

  Published in October 2013 by Little Vamp Press

  ISBN: 978-0-9926995-1-2

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, printing and subsequent photocopying or otherwise. It is intended for the use of the purchaser only.

  Cover image Copyright © Grace Elkin 2013

  www.graceelkinphotography.co.uk

  All characters and words the work of Raven ShadowHawk

  All characters, locations, names or incidents appearing in this work are fictitious and a product of the author’s overactive and slightly crooked imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living, dead, vampire, ghost, zombie, lycanthrope, faerie or daemon is purely coincidental. Promise.

  This book is sexually graphic and intended for a mature audience. This book, and others in the series, should only be purchased and/or read by those for whom it is legal, according to the laws in their country of residence.

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Copyright © Raven ShadowHawk 2013

  Dedication

  While part of me wants to dedicate this story to my sons, the rest of me is happy to acknowledge that when they’re older, they may be horrified at being linked, in any way, to a work of erotic fiction written by their mother. So . . . thanks to my wonderful loving Dave, my Funk Master, for encouraging me, believing in me, and giving me the time, space and invaluable encouragement to really follow my dream.

  It’s not crazy after all.

  Love you x

  Meeting Each Other Series: Vicki & Lara

  Though I tried not to notice, I knew, as soon as I entered the bedroom, that Lara was naked. Her clothes lay heaped on the floor beside the bed, damp and stinking of lager.

  My breathing hitched and I clicked off the light to hide the blush I could feel burning my cheeks.

  A few seconds passed before my eyes adjusted, and then I could see everything. Moonlight haloed Lara’s body, and the bed sheets smoothed the shape of her hips and thighs into soft mounds. Through the cotton, I could see the dark triangle of hair between her legs.

  Yep. Totally naked.

  I looked away, staring instead at the relative safety of her face.

  She stretched, causing the sheets to slip back over her skin. ‘Vic?’

  ‘Yes, it’s me.’ I licked my lips, my gaze following the scalloped edge of the sheet as it inched further down her body. When it dropped off the peak of her breasts and landed in a rumpled pile on her stomach, I felt my own gut clench.

  The cool air teased Lara’s dark nipples into stiffness and brought goose pimples to my arms. Her hair, red and long, slithered over her neck and shoulders, shiny in the silver light falling through the open curtains.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want a T-shirt?’ Turning aside, I pulled open a drawer on my dresser, eager to cover her up. To remove the temptation.

  ‘You really think you have anything to fit me, Miss Hips-and-Arse? Don’t worry about it.’ Grinning, she shook her head and lifted a corner of the sheet in that universal gesture of invitation. ‘Coming?’

  ‘Just a second.’

  Rough red lace with a plunging neckline made the first nightdress I found unacceptable. Better was the white tent-like garment with a pair of sleeping teddy bears stitched onto the chest.

  Perfect.

  I took my time over removing my jewellery; placing each item on the dresser in a neat line. Over the back of the chair, I put my skirt, then my blouse, aware that Lara followed my every move. Only after turning my back and wriggling into the nightshirt did I take the time to fold the clothes.

  ‘You okay, hon?’

  Still facing the door, I took a deep breath. ‘Fine.’

  ‘Is everyone gone now?’

  I nodded. ‘Bill’s got the spare room. Lin, Niall and Carol are sharing the sitting room.’

  ‘In you get, then.’

  When I turned back, Lara lifted the sheet. She held it high and gestured with her free hand, renewing the invitation. ‘You’re leaving your underwear on?’

  ‘Yes.’ I said, pleased at how steady my voice sounded.

  ‘You’ll ruin the bra.’

  ‘It’s fine.’

  She shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

  Having run out of excuses, I stepped up to the bed, arms folded across my chest. Swallowing the lump of my heart in my throat, I climbed in and tucked my half of the sheets around me. Six inches of mattress separated me from Lara’s naked body.

  Not enough.

  She rolled her eyes, then turned onto her side to face me. Her eyes shone like liquid crystal while moonlight highlighted the bright white of her teeth and gave her the impression of a Cheshire cat.

  ‘Thanks for hiding my car keys,’ she said.

  ‘No problem.’

  Lara propped her head on one hand and traced small circles on the sheet with the other. Each time her finger came close to my side, my chest tightened. I moved my hands away and clasped them on top of my stomach instead.

  The finger stopped moving. ‘Had a good time?’

  ‘I guess. No puke, fights or arrests. That must be a record.’

  ‘For one of your birthdays? Probably.’

  The next words seemed to burn my mouth as they left it. ‘What happened to Malcolm?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  I stared at her. ‘He looked . . . upset.’

  ‘I suppose he would have been. But not as much as you.’

  She was right about that, so I kept my mouth shut.

  Lara grinned and flopped onto her back.

  With my peripheral vision, I saw the sheet slide off her breasts again. It took vast strength of will to keep my eyes on her face. Despite that, I could feel my mouth moistening and the tightening in my own body as I imagined touching her nipples with my tongue. I could almost feel the silk-like softness of her skin against my lips and palms. Her smooth, pale body above my dark one.

  ‘. . . creep with a jealousy complex. He deserved it.’

  Only from the silence that followed did I realise Lara was expecting a reply.

  ‘Were you even listening?’

  ‘Sorry. Miles away.’

  ‘I’ll say. I said he deserved it. He’s not your boyfriend any more, just a creep with a jealousy complex. Why do you think I did it?’

  ‘You’re crazy, that’s why.’

  ‘No.’ She grinned. ‘I did it because he thinks you’re stupid. That you’d go back to him after how he treated you.’

  ‘He said that?’

  ‘Near enough. But I knew you wouldn’t.’

  Lara’s gaze was hot on mine, eyes widening. I recognised the signs; I knew she was trying to tell me something. Part of me wanted her to simply say it, but the rest of me worried what the words would be. So I didn’t ask. Instead, I settled on something safer.

  ‘But did you have to shave his head?’

  She grinned, and the gesture sent slithers of warmth coursing through my body, as far as my toes.

  ‘It’ll grow back.’

  In my mind’s eye, I saw Malcolm storm from the house, fingering the inch-wide strip of exposed skin along his skull from forehead to the nape of his neck.

  ‘Feeling sorry for him?’

  ‘God no, I just—’ I had no words to finish the thought.

  ‘Vic, you’re my girl. You must know I’m going to stand up for you. Whatever happens.’

  My girl.

  The words gave me a warm glow I had no right to feel.

  A smi
le played around my lips. My shoulders relaxed into the mattress. ‘What did you do with it?’

  ‘The ponytail? Binned it; mullets went out years ago. Why? Did you want a souvenir?’

  My smile blossomed into a grin, complete with laughter. ‘Gross!’

  Chuckling, Lara pantomimed her earlier actions with the razor. ‘Bzz!’ she cried, jabbing the air near my face with a bunched-up fist. ‘Let’s see him fix that without going for a complete skin-head!’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid.’ Lara reached over and yanked me into a bone-crunching hug. She seemed not to notice when I stiffened beneath her. A twist of her hips pressed her whole body against mine.

  Her proximity made my nightshirt utterly pointless. I could feel everything from the heat of her skin, to the patch of sweat on her chest and stomach which soaked through my nightdress. Her breath whispered across my face: cheap wine laced with chicken Madras, mango chutney and cheap lipstick.

  I closed my eyes and inhaled.

  Never had I smelled anything so good.

  ‘I love you, Vic.’

  My eyes snapped open.

  I jerked away, spitting strands of red hair out of my mouth. ‘What?’ I wiped my sweaty palms on the front of my nightshirt and tried to tell the joyous leap in my stomach that she couldn’t possibly mean what I hoped she did.

  ‘You’re my best friend,’ she continued. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you.’

  ‘You’re drunk. Anyway, it’s more like what I’d do without you.’ I frowned. ‘Malcolm would have—’

  Tension rushed back into my body. The gut-churning sensation of impotent fear crawled through my limbs as they remembered the feel of his large calloused hands gripping my arm. Slapping my face.

  I pressed my legs together.

  ‘How did you know where we were?’

  ‘You looked so scared, I followed you,’ she said. ‘No one else noticed.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘It’s not. People need to know what he’s like. He’s lucky Bill didn’t see.’

  I tried to imagine the night’s outcome if my brother had found out what Malcolm had done. ‘It would have continued the trend of birthday arrests.’

  Lara smirked. ‘And Malcolm isn’t worth going to prison over. So I dealt with it.’ She patted my shoulder and peace oozed through me.

  The tiny hairs on my arms and legs stood to attention beneath my nightshirt, straining to be close to her. Blood rushed to the surface and flushed my skin with heat.

  ‘Hey, Vic, it’s okay. He’s gone now.’ She spoke to me the same way she spoke to children in the surgery. I imagined her standing over me in her pale-yellow uniform, bright hair pulled off her face in a high ponytail.

  It’s true what they say about nurses.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘Then why are you shaking? Come here.’ She curled her limbs around me again, tucking her head beneath my chin and rubbing my arms with brisk strokes.

  ‘I’m not cold.’

  Lara ignored me. ‘You always react badly to booze. Remember Majorca?’

  I did, and the memory was the last one I needed at that moment: Lara’s scantily clad body, writhing to music, dripping with sweat. The rising warmth in my belly. The first understanding that my feelings for my best friend were evolving into something more. Something unexpected. Something needy and visceral.

  I remembered our drunken kiss on the heaving dance floor and the playful press of her hands on my hips and ribs as we teased the Spanish men with their shameless stares.

  My body hummed with a pulsing need and a trickle of wetness slid down the inside of my thighs. I wrenched free of Lara with more force than necessary. Her arms slid away. My back left the mattress and I clawed at the empty air, too late to save myself from falling off the side of the bed, taking the sheet with me. It pooled on my face and blocked the light as my hip and shoulder slammed into the floor, my feet still resting on the mattress.

  Lara’s voice shook with laughter. ‘Are you okay?’

  I closed my eyes beneath the sheet, glad of something to hide behind. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I bet you drank more than I did.’

  The sheet tickled as it left my face. Lara had crawled up to the edge of the bed and she held it bunched up in front of her, pressed between her spread knees as she knelt to stare at me. Her expression held a mixture of amusement and concern. And one last thing that I couldn’t place; whatever it was, it made me uncomfortable.

  I looked away from her face, but that was worse.

  I saw the gleaming nimbus of moonshine around her body. Light playing over the curves of her hips and thighs in a way that made my fingers jealous. An angel, beautiful and desirable, naked breasts a mere inch from my upturned face.

  Clambering to my feet felt harder than it should have been, and I fussed with the hem of my nightshirt.

  ‘Are you really going to leave your bra on?’

  I frowned. The back of my neck tingled, and I told myself that it was wishful thinking, nothing more, that put a undercurrent of disappointment in Lara’s whisper.

  She sighed and made space by shuffling back across the bed. While she stretched out on the far side, shaking the sheet over her body once again, I took my old place on the edge; with that six-inch chasm between us.

  This time, she didn’t turn to look at me.

  I pulled the sheet over my body and tried to think of something to say.

  Silence stretched between us like a piece of elastic, growing thinner all the while.

  Lara faced the ceiling and closed her eyes. Soon, her breathing evened out and the gentle rise and fall of her chest told me she had fallen asleep.

  Turning onto my side, I propped my head in my hand.

  I let my gaze travel up and down her body, drinking in the sight with a greed that frightened and excited me.

  Sleep brought to Lara a peace and beauty for which her waking features had no space. Not that she was any less beautiful while awake, only that her bright smile and open-mouthed laughter often left no room to appreciate the delicate curve of her cheekbones. The full pout of her lips. The thick sweep of her eyelashes. The arch of her eyebrows showing off her natural colour which hid beneath all the red.

  A curl of her hair lay like a crimson shadow across her cheek. I brushed it away.

  In the still of the bedroom, I could hear my heart hammering against my ribs. It seemed impossible for the thunderous crashes not to disturb Lara’s sleep. The torrent of blood pumping through my veins filled my ears until it masked even the sound of my breathing.

  I sat up and pulled the sheet. Gently, then faster, exposing Lara’s body with the same reverence as a sculptor showing off his final, finest work.

  Lara’s bare body resembled a piece of fine art. Smooth and perfect, dappled with an ethereal glow sliced by shadows.

  My hand hovered above her stomach, a finger’s breadth from touching. The tiniest motion from either of us would bring my skin into contact with hers.

  The thought made me grind my legs together.

  ‘Lara?’

  No answer.

  A combination of drink and darkness made me bold.

  I touched her stomach. Felt the gentle rise beneath my fingers as she inhaled. Her skin, as I’d imagined, was petal-soft beneath my trembling digits.

  The lack of colour in her skin against mine startled me. So very pale. Or was I overly dark? I couldn’t tell, but I knew that touch alone couldn’t and wouldn’t satisfy my growing need. I wanted more.

  I trailed my fingers towards her ribs; allowed my palm to brush the underside of her breasts.

  She sighed.

  Looking at her face again, I saw the little line of moisture between her lips stretch and break as they parted. A tiny piece of her tongue, pale-pink and wet, showed through the gap.

  Common sense, what little I had, fled. It left a hole in my mind, quickly filled by a rush of lust that raged and roiled inside.

&nbs
p; I kissed her lips.

  A gust of warm air flew from her nostrils and tickled my face.

  ‘Fuck me,’ I whispered.

  ‘If you like.’

  I reeled back, yelping like a puppy with its tail stuck in the door.

  Lara didn’t move, but stared at me through half-lidded eyes. Her mouth twitched.

  ‘You were asleep!’

  ‘Was I?’

  I scrambled off the bed, still clumsy, but more graceful than my last descent. The sheets tangled in my legs, pinning me in place. Forced to kick them away, I lost precious seconds of my escape. By the time I’d freed myself, Lara had sat up and turned to stare at me.

  She didn’t bother to cover herself.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ The words tumbled out. ‘I didn’t mean to. I mean, I shouldn’t have. I had no right. You were sleeping, I just—’

  ‘Just what, Vic? Thought you’d feel me up?’ She arched an eyebrow at me, that curious expression back in her eyes again.

  At last I managed to identify the look. A challenge.

  ‘It wasn’t like that!’

  ‘Then what was it like?’

  ‘I don’t know. God, I’m sorry. I’ll go.’

  ‘Where?’ An edge of weariness crept into her tone. ‘This is your room. Anyway, the house is crammed – that’s why I’m here.’

  ‘You’re here because you’re drunk.’

  ‘Other nights I’ve slept on the sofa, but today you said sleep in here. Why would you do that, Vic? Tell me.’

  I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Instead, my fingers twisted once more into the hem of my nightshirt. I heard the cotton tear and yanked my hands away. With nowhere left to put them, I crossed my arms and hid them in my armpits.

  She stared at me. ‘Vicki, say something.’

  I caught her eye, then looked at the floor. ‘Like what?’

  ‘You invite me in here, but won’t touch me. You watch me strip, but run off before I can finish. You come back and put on a nightshirt. A fucking nightshirt! Then you refuse to even take your bra off.’