by C. J. Harte
Susan began to question her decision to participate in this madness. Maggie had practically ignored her since their arrival at the dance. Only when her friend Nancy arrived was she able to relax. Nancy wasted no time getting Susan on the dance floor.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it has been to get tickets? This has been sold out for over a month. When you showed up today and offered a pass, I thought you were kidding. How did you get to be part of this group?” Nancy was one of the few lesbian friends Susan had maintained since college. And Nancy had been one of the most supportive.
“My company is representing Ms. Carson.”
“Are the rumors true?” Nancy leaned closer and whispered, “Is she? You know. What is she like?”
Susan was cautious in her answer. “She is talented and intelligent.” Nancy expectantly waited for more. “It’s strictly professional.” Nancy opened her mouth as if to speak but closed it quickly. “Really, Nancy, this is a professional relationship.” Susan cursed herself for the half-truth. Nancy changed the topic to catch up on friends and life.
Four dances later, Maggie cut in and wasted no time in asking questions. “Who is that? She’s good looking. I assume she’s a lesbian.”
“She’s a good friend from college. Remember I mentioned I visited her today? We roomed together for two years and have been friends since.”
“Were you more than roommates?” Maggie asked.
Could jealousy be tickling? “Yes.”
Maggie glared at Nancy. “Is there something still going on between you two now?”
“Yes.” Susan spoke slowly, enjoying the emotions dancing across Maggie’s face. “We’re friends. Just friends.”
Maggie stopped dancing. “Nothing sexual, nothing romantic?”
Susan shook her head.
“Just friends?” Again Susan agreed. A smile broke across Maggie’s face as she pulled Susan close and resumed dancing. “I’m going to have to watch you. You have a wicked sense of humor.” After one more dance, they returned to the reserved table.
A female admirer quickly jumped at the chance to ask Maggie to dance. Much to the woman’s obvious delight, Maggie said yes.
Nancy slipped into the seat next to Susan. “Don’t hand me that client routine, Susan. My question should have been, what’s going on between you two?”
“Funny, Maggie was asking me the same question about you. Maybe you two should talk to each other. I’ll tell you the same thing I told her. We’re just friends.”
“Hot friend, Susan. I never pictured you as a media groupie.”
“I am not a groupie,” Susan said. “Damn it, Nancy, we’re just friends. There’s nothing going on between us.” Yet. Susan surprised herself with this thought.
Before Nancy could ask another question, Maggie again pulled Susan onto the dance floor.
Susan abandoned any attempt at coherent conversation. She drowned in the sensuality of their dancing. It was beyond suggestive. For once Susan allowed her senses to revel in the intensity of the moment. Maggie whispered in Susan’s ear. Her hips ground against Susan. Every inch of Susan’s body responded. She tried to convince herself this didn’t mean anything, but certain parts of her body weren’t cooperating. Maggie inserted her knee between Susan’s legs and slid up and down, her eyes never wavering. This was a new dance for Susan, but she suspected where it led. For the next two songs, everything else faded. There was only Maggie, only this closeness, only this fire growing within her, only this consuming need.
At the end of the song, Maggie pulled back and grabbed Susan’s hand, walking up to the front where the band played. Maggie joined the band on stage. The crowd quieted.
“I want to thank you for making this an exciting and profitable evening for AIDS Atlanta. I understand we set a new record tonight, for attendance and money raised.” Applause filled the hall. “We must never forget why we are here. There are still diseases that tear apart our lives. Until these diseases no longer exist we must continue to fight them and conquer them. We’re getting closer but we’re not there yet.” Maggie smiled at the cheering crowd. “The band and I just finished a new CD that has a special love song. So hold on to that someone special.”
The band began to play. Maggie began to sing. Susan knew it was ridiculous, but she felt as if Maggie was singing to her. Everyone here probably feels that way. As she looked around, she watched couples dancing and smiling. Yes, they can feel that same heat.
There was a moment of quiet while the audience absorbed the final pulsing chords. Lovers catching their breath. The reaction was deafening, but Maggie could only see Susan standing near the stage. She acknowledged the applause and waved. After giving a thumbs-up to the band, Maggie grabbed Susan’s hand and they were headed out of the ballroom. Susan had forgotten everything but Maggie—her scent, her touch, her fire.
With Karl and Dan leading the charge, they were soon in the elevator and headed upstairs. At last they were alone. Maggie closed the door. As the lock clicked shut Susan realized there would be no interruptions, no door bells, no phone calls. She was both nervous and excited. She feared she would be found wanting as a lover but also knew she wanted Maggie more than she had wanted anyone. She silently prayed that Maggie wouldn’t be disappointed.
Maggie offered Susan a glass of wine. Her fingers barely grazed Susan’s. She walked around the bar and stood behind Susan, leaning forward, putting her head against Susan’s. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to just put my arms around you,” she said. “As I sang tonight, I sang for you, about you, with you. I want to make love with you. I think I have since the first night at your house.” She caressed Susan’s back, pulling her closer. “Are you aware of how beautiful you are? Or how desirable?” Susan shook her head. “No matter what I want, Susan, I don’t want to do, or say, anything that may cause…” Maggie faltered. “I don’t want to lose you.” She paused.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but I want you to know it’s true. I would rather have you as my friend, and in my life, than to spend one night making love and lose you forever.” She had never asked before, much less told someone to say no. Susan was different. She wanted Susan to want her. She wanted her to want Maggie, not M.J.
Susan grabbed a handful of hair and twirled it, enjoying the soft, thick tresses. Breathing was not possible. Thinking required effort. Maggie’s mouth was warm and inviting. She had to taste it. This time it was Maggie who was groaning.
Susan led Maggie into the bedroom. M.J. the singer couldn’t remember the last time she had been this nervous, and Maggie the person was petrified. These feelings were too intense.
Susan reached over and began to pull open Maggie’s shirt. All night she had wanted to reach in and touch the soft flesh within. Her own daring amazed her.
Maggie allowed Susan to undress her. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She held her breath as soft hands touched her body.
Susan’s gaze feasted, following the trail of her hands as they touched and caressed Maggie’s arms, hips, and then erect nipples. Seeing the growing desire in Maggie’s eyes, Susan removed her own blouse and pants.
Maggie’s knees began to tremble. Maggie wanted to see and feel Susan’s body, but she feared her ability to control her own pulsing center. Maggie pushed Susan onto the bed and climbed on top. This was heaven, she thought, feeling the softness of Susan beneath her. This first time she wanted to savor. Her own needs, however, were so urgent, she could feel her orgasm approaching.
She placed featherlike kisses on Susan’s eyes, then her neck, and her nose, always returning to the lips that attracted her like warm honey. She nibbled down Susan’s neck until she found the one place that elicited a moan from Susan. She focused on this area and felt Susan shudder beneath her. Maggie removed the remaining clothing and relished the naked body beneath her. She continued her explorations. Moving on to the soft, rounded breasts, Maggie first covered one with her mouth while she caressed the other. She sucked on a nipple un
til it became erect inside her mouth. She paused to look into Susan’s eyes. She could read the desire and passion as clearly as she could feel it. Maggie felt her own wetness flowing just by looking at Susan. Returning to the swollen breasts, she again tasted one and then moved on to the other, listening to the changes in Susan’s breathing. Susan’s hands were pulling her back into demanding kisses. Susan stroked her back and flowed down to her buttocks, caressing the flesh, then running fingernails across her back. Maggie mounted Susan’s leg, her throbbing too painful to ignore. At first, she moved slowly back and forth, her own wetness coating Susan’s thigh. Hands encircling her breasts and squeezing the nipples brought her closer to climax. She realized she was coming too quickly, but she was beyond control. Susan pulled her down and took a breast in her mouth and stroked the nipple with her tongue.
Maggie’s movements became more frantic. She craved release. Her body shook as convulsions swept deep inside her. She was stunned by the intensity. Somehow, Susan managed to change positions with Maggie. She reached between Maggie’s legs and softly touched her swollen flesh, continually caressing until Maggie was again close to orgasm. Slowly she slid her fingers into the warm wetness. Maggie gasped and began to move with the new rhythm Susan had set. Again and again, the hand moved against her, sliding in and out until Maggie cried out and grasped Susan tightly. After the last wave passed, she could again breathe.
“My God,” Maggie gasped, “what happened?” She smiled and then noticed the tears in Susan’s eyes. “What’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?”
Susan tried to smile but was overwhelmed by her own emotions. “No, you’re perfect. You are incredibly beautiful and passionate. It’s just so intense.”
“I like intense.” Maggie leaned up and began to again kiss Susan. “Intense is good.” This time she knew she would be able to take her time. “Intense is very good.” She switched places with Susan. Susan became a musical instrument Maggie played with passion and precision. She quickly learned the important chords and played them, embellishing and rearranging. Susan’s body was a fine instrument, and an erotic song filled the night air. With a gentle hunger, she played different melodies, her own body providing counterpoints. Susan’s body began a crescendo of indeterminable length and intensity, led by Maggie as she touched and savored. Those wonderful hands that conducted a conversation were an even more impressive maestro as they orchestrated the passion growing within Susan. Maggie covered Susan with kisses, moving down to her hips, where a most intimate melody was about to achieve completion. Maggie tasted the wetness. Her hand became a bow and Susan was her violin. She played with a fever and intensity that surprised even her.
At last, waves of different color and timbre covered Susan. She let out a cry, like the cymbal crashing, exclaiming the overture’s final movement.
Maggie moved up Susan, kissing along the body now glistening with excitement. She reached the warm, tender lips and again drowned herself. Susan was smiling.
“You are incredible,” Susan began, then hesitated, looking for the right words. “I know this probably sounds trite, but I didn’t know it could be like this.”
Maggie smiled. No words could express the power of her feelings or the depth. To put voice to those emotions was terrifying. It was easier to live in the moment, to stay with the song she was playing. She recalled some of the phrases she had recently played. She couldn’t get enough. She would play this symphony again and create new variations upon the theme. Susan was easily aroused, this time knowing where the music was leading. They played and replayed their favorite melodies, over and over, reclaiming passion as their muse.
Light filled the room before they were aware of anything but emotions and touching. Susan sat up and looked at the clock. “Maggie, it’s nearly seven. We need to get some sleep.” Maggie’s protests were quick, but so was sleep.
*
It was many moments before Susan acknowledged the distant drumming as her own heart. She stared at the dark lashes fluttering against the tanned face. I cannot believe this sleeping, peaceful woman is capable of arousing such passion in me. Innocence and vulnerability had displaced the cocky, self-assured singer. Maggie was once again the woman she had met on the plane.
Susan’s emotions vacillated between fear and love. Fear because she was so out of control. And recognition of the love she had been barely acknowledging all day. Whom am I kidding? Maggie has occupied my thoughts and dreams since we met. Here I am in bed with someone I’ve only known three weeks. I’ve had only two lovers and never even considered sex until we had known each other for months. Yet here I am with you, Maggie. Where are we going? Am I just a temporary diversion? Will you wake up and pretend this was just a meaningless affair? I couldn’t stand that.
Chapter Twelve
The flight back to Orlando was quiet. While Maggie was attentive and affectionate at the hotel, once aboard the plane she quickly fell asleep. Susan’s insecurities kicked in as she tried to apply logic to the emotional chaos of the previous day.
Thirty minutes into their flight, Maggie awoke and smiled. “Sorry. Guess something wore me out.” One side of her mouth lifted into a most intimate smile. “Or someone.” Almost immediately Susan felt heat creep up her neck. “You’re so cute when you blush.” Maggie gently stroked Susan’s cheek.
“Looks like most everyone else is sleeping. Guess it was the concert.” Susan hoped Maggie hadn’t noticed her awkwardness. Quickly changing the subject, she asked, “How long has your band been together?”
“Is that what you really want to talk about?”
“No.”
“Good. Honey, please, no work.” Feeling chastised, Susan quietly nodded. Maggie pulled her closer and was soon asleep again, leaving Susan more confused.
The arrival in Orlando at a private airport was organized chaos. Limos parked near the hangar swiftly moved out to the plane. Suitcases of various shapes and sizes lined the tarmac and were haphazardly thrown into the waiting vehicles. After a quick hug, Maggie jumped into a waiting limo with a promise to call later. The driver of the remaining vehicle grabbed Susan’s bag and helped her into the car.
Susan felt as if she had been caught up in a tornado and unexpectedly dumped in some cornfield in Kansas without Toto. Her emotions were raw. She was exhausted and confused, and she wanted to sleep. At the same time she dreaded the modern version of the Spanish Inquisition she’d face when she arrived home. Maureen surprised her by not asking many questions. Instead her mother sent her off to bed, with promises to wake her in a couple of hours. At last Susan felt a return of normalcy. As she drifted off to sleep, she reminded herself of how relieved she was to be home.
*
Susan returned to work in a foul mood. Two days had gone by without any word from Maggie. Susan barked at the staff, rewrote the same paragraph twice, and spilled coffee on her new wool suit. She tried to focus but thoughts of Maggie kept intruding.
When Ed came into her office to discuss Maggie’s production company, Susan wanted to yell at him. M.J. Carson was the last person she wanted to discuss.
“I’ve gotten some preliminary interest from folks who have winter homes in Florida. I was at a party up in Heathrow and there was money. Here’s some of the names. What do you think? Think Ms. Carson will be interested?”
“Ed, why are you asking me? This is your area of expertise. If you want me to run financial profiles on them, I’ll be glad to. Just don’t ask me to do a thumbs up or thumbs down.” Susan looked at the open file on her desk hoping the conversation was over.
“Look, Susan, can you run these by Ms. Carson’s folks and see what their interest is?”
“No. If you want the financials on these people, I need to get started. If not, let me finish reviewing these contracts. I have to overnight them and they will be picked up at three.”
Ed perched on the edge of her desk. “You are the damnedest person I work with. You’re hard-nosed and focused. You’ve kept me, and the company, from losing
big bucks. I love to see you do that with our clients. And I hate it when you do it to me.”
“Thanks, Ed. I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
Ed smiled as he spoke. “I made a good decision persuading you to come to work for me. I get the hint. I’m going.”
By two thirty, Susan had arranged to overnight the package and was ready to check the names Ed had given her. Susan signed on to her computer and began the research. If people knew how much information was accessible, Susan was sure they would think twice about some of their spending and credit decisions. As she finished her last query at four, she realized she was finally able to concentrate. At that moment her office assistant informed her that M.J. Carson was on the phone. Her safe world was again threatening to disintegrate.
*
Maggie yawned and stretched, waiting for Susan to answer the phone. Her head pounded, her eyes ached, and conversation was difficult. She’d spent Sunday working with her staff on the upcoming tour. Work was easier than thinking about Susan. Later, pleased with the plans, she celebrated with her staff and the band members, finally falling asleep around four a.m. When she awoke at two in the afternoon, she realized she hadn’t called Susan. She was pleased she had gotten through a whole day without thinking about her.
“Susan Hettinger.” Susan sounded distant.
The ground shifted. Maggie quickly adjusted. “Hi, beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday. I just got busy.”
“No problem. Is there something you need?” Susan was not getting any friendlier.
Need? thought Maggie. I don’t need anything or anyone. She stopped. That was no longer true. When had that changed? “Look, Susan, I’m sorry. I called because I just wanted to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.” Maggie needed to be her most persuasive self. “How about if the kids and I come pick up you, Cady, and your mom, and we go someplace to eat?”