“Yes?”
Tears sprang to Erika’s eyes. “God, they used to make me practice until my fingers were so sore, I couldn’t move them. They didn’t give me any time to play and have friends, even if the other kids had liked me. And girls…I knew by the time I was fourteen that I liked girls, but my parents would have thrown me out if they’d known. Being who I was inside was not an option.”
“Oh, Erika, I’m so sorry.”
“Wait. There’s more. I tried to kill myself, Dess. Not very seriously. Nothing that amounted to more than a few gouges on my wrist, but it was an attempt.”
“When?” Dess said, absorbing the pain behind Erika’s confession until it fused with her own. She couldn’t imagine the world having lost such a talent as Erika Alvarez. Thank God her attempt hadn’t been successful.
“My last year of high school. I didn’t try it again. I knew somehow if I could just hang on until I could escape to college, it would get better. And it did.”
“I’m so glad you did hang on.” Dess reached across the table and threaded Erika’s fingers through her own. “And I’m glad I did too. Let’s make a pact, right now.”
Erika’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she gave no opposition.
“Let’s agree that if either of us is ever feeling despondent again or feeling that things are too overwhelming, no matter what it’s about, no matter where we are or what time of the day it is, that we’ll talk about it. Together. Okay?”
Erika broke into a grin, and it was like storm clouds parting for the sun. “That sounds like a deal to me.”
Dess smiled. A weight had been lifted from her heart. “Who knew neither of us was perfect?”
* * *
They spent the afternoon working on their ballad, and suddenly the parts that had been difficult before seemed to have shifted to something much easier, Erika realized. The second and third verses had been their stumbling block, along with the little bridge on piano, but now, she felt sure, they’d nailed it.
Before Erika thought about what she was saying, she blurted out, “Why don’t you try singing it with me, Dess?”
The look of horror on Dess’s face made Erika realize the huge tactical mistake she’d made. Yet again. And just when they were beginning to build a true friendship. Shit. “I mean, a little bit of background harmony or something?”
“Erika, I—”
“I know you don’t sing anymore. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. But it’s just us. You don’t have to be afraid of how you sound.”
Tears welled in Dess’s eyes, and Erika scooted over beside her. They’d spread out on the floor of her apartment’s living room, sheet music scattered around them like fallen leaves. Erika put her arms around Dess and held her as she cried softly. Her shoulders were shaking as though she were standing in a cold rain, and Erika pictured her doing exactly that. Standing on a street corner, maybe downtown Chicago, in a cold gray rain, an umbrella doing little to ward off the showers and the chill. People passed her, ignoring her, and she looked so sad and lonely in Erika’s mind.
“Let me be your shelter,” Erika whispered, wanting it to be so.
Dess snuggled in closer. After a few moments, she raised her face to Erika, and Erika, with the soft pad of her thumb, brushed away the tears. Then she kissed the wet trails the tears had taken on their journey downward. Dess smiled, her face transforming into a look of peacefulness and capitulation.
“Let me love you,” Erika said as she gazed into Dess’s eyes. It was the purest, most heartfelt statement she’d ever made to anyone. She could love this woman to the ends of the earth. Could make love to her until every single feeling, everything that had ever mattered in her life, compressed into that single moment of shared orgasm.
“Yes. I’d like that.”
Erika didn’t wait for Dess to say more. Or to change her mind. She kissed the corners of her lips, her mouth, with every ounce of tenderness she felt for Dess. Desire exploded inside her, surging up her spine and through her chest. But it was much, much more than simple lust. Dess had unlocked something inside her that had wanted to spring out for so long, but didn’t know how. It was love, she knew. She’d been waiting for exactly the right woman who would understand her, who would love her back for who she was. She had so much love inside her, and she wanted to give it all to this gorgeous, smart, talented woman who was kissing her back with a passion equal to her own.
Sheets of paper crunched and crumpled under their weight as Erika eased Dess to the floor, her lips never leaving her mouth. She could kiss that mouth forever, those lips. Screw food and drink. Dess’s lips were all she needed for sustenance. She wanted to kiss her for hours, naked or clothed, it didn’t matter. Lying down, sitting down, standing up. She wanted to kiss Dess every which way. And not only on her beautiful mouth, but everywhere.
Dess moaned softly as Erika’s mouth slid over her throat. She kissed the sinewy muscles there. Kissed the faint scar from her cancer surgery. She kissed her way down that gorgeous, silky neck, felt Dess’s chest rise and fall faster as her kisses trailed further down her body. God, that body felt so wonderful beneath her—strong and supple at the same time. Warm and thrumming with desire.
Erika’s hand crept under Dess’s ribbed tank top and onto the flat of her stomach, where it lingered with soft, circular strokes. She loved the tiny flinch Dess’s stomach muscles made in response to each touch. So responsive! Dess was going to be so delicious, so sensuous, so perfect to make love to. Erika could almost taste it, could already feel the magic of it in her body.
Higher her hand traveled until it cupped a breast, and Erika suddenly knew without a doubt what heaven must be like. She felt herself grow wet as her thumb caressed Dess’s nipple through the lacy fabric of her bra. The nipple hardened immediately, and Dess invitingly arched her back, a clear signal she wanted Erika’s mouth on her. Her eyes were pinched shut and from her mouth came tiny, hungry moans. Oh, how Erika wanted to fill that hunger, wanted to give Dess everything she had to give until she cried out. She inched the tank top higher to expose the pink Victoria’s Secret bra. Through the expensive fabric, Dess’s nipples strained for release.
“Wait,” Dess squeezed out between breaths. Her hand gently came to rest on Erika’s forehead just as she was about to place her mouth against the lace covering her nipple.
“Anything, darling. Tell me what you want.”
“I—” Her breath came hard and fast. “I want you, Erika. I want to make love with you. But I’m afraid to go too fast. I—”
“Shh, it’s okay.” Erika tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. She wanted to make love to Dess. Urgently. So urgently, in fact, that she was within a breath of ripping that bra right off, shorts and underwear too, and having her way with her no matter how much Dess protested. But it was important that Dess set the pace, that her wishes be respected. If Dess didn’t want to rush things, then they wouldn’t rush things. “We’ll slow down, okay?” Oh, God, what am I agreeing to?
Dess smiled up at her. “Why don’t we cool down with some dinner?”
It took all her willpower, but Erika crawled off Dess. She remained beside her, however. Lovingly, she stroked the side of her face. “I know a great Thai restaurant. And hey, why don’t we celebrate by going to a gay club later?”
“What are we celebrating?” Dess flashed her a coy look.
“Um, our newfound…intimacy?” The fact that we’re going to be making love before the week is out? The thought sent a fresh wave of excitement through Erika that threatened to annihilate her willpower. She was wet and throbbing, and it was almost too much to bear when her eyes made the mistake of drifting down to Dess’s lacy pink bra, which was still exposed. She could see the outline of Dess’s nipples, still hard, and it was all she could do not to drop her mouth onto them and suck them until Dess cried out for release.
Dess grinned at her, her eyes sparkling with a happiness that Erika had only seen before when she played the g
uitar. “I like the idea of the restaurant. But not the nightclub.”
Erika’s eyebrows posed the question why.
“I don’t want to wear that damned disguise I’ve been using for the concerts. Which means people might recognize me. I don’t want to risk that.”
“All right. I understand.” Erika kissed Dess’s cheek. “I just wanted to dance with you, that’s all.”
“I’d like that. A lot.” Dess grinned, and it was like an arrow pleasurably piercing Erika’s heart. “Why don’t we finish our date back here with your iPod? You must have some songs on that thing we can dance to.”
Erika smiled back at the woman she couldn’t get enough of. “Now you’re talking.”
“Just let me change first and we can go.”
“Need any help with that part?” Erika called after Dess. Her answer was the click of the door closing.
Chapter Thirteen
They parked Erika’s aging compact car—rust was forming around the wheel wells like sloppy wallpaper borders—and walked the three remaining blocks to the Thai restaurant. Dess nearly reached out to hold Erika’s hand, but stopped herself. They weren’t a couple, and holding hands would be getting ahead of themselves, she told herself, even as she fought the overwhelming urge. It’s just that her hands are so beautiful, so soft and strong at the same time, and so nimble the way they play piano, so skilled the way they stroke my breasts… Oh God, get a grip, Dess, or you’re never going to make it through dinner!
“I know it’s a cliché, but a penny for your thoughts,” Erika said, surprising Dess with her uncanny ability to read her.
Oh, Jesus, I cannot tell her I was thinking about her touching my breasts! “Who said I’m thinking about anything?”
“I can tell by the way that little line forms between your eyes and how your jaw gets a little tighter.”
Dess looked at Erika as she held the door to the restaurant open for her. A woman who noticed the smallest things about her was impressive. And something she definitely wasn’t used to. Dayna had never been able to read her. Oh please, don’t let me think of that bitch tonight. Or ever again, for that matter.
They were shown to a corner table that afforded them privacy and were left with menus that were plain in design but full of enticing selections. Dess had learned a long time ago, from eating at countless restaurants, that the ones that tried to make their menus look the fanciest didn’t often serve the best food.
Dess decided to start with som tam—a spicy papaya salad—while Erika ordered tom kha soup. They also ordered a pitcher of homemade ginger lemonade with fresh mint sprigs.
“I have a feeling the food here is going to be amazing,” Dess said.
“It is. Only the best for you, sweetheart.”
“I bet you say that to all your dates.” Something in Dess made her want clarify that this was only a date, nothing more promising than that. Erika was the kind of woman you could fall head over heels in love with, she warned herself. And she wanted—needed—to take things slow.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been on an actual date that I don’t remember what my lines are supposed to be.” Erika’s suggestive smile hinted that she was thinking of their make-out session. But her eyes were the antithesis of playful. “Are you having second thoughts about being on a date with me?”
“No. Definitely not.”
“Good.” Erika appeared to relax but only a little.
Their appetizers arrived, the coconut smell of the tom kha soup nearly making Dess regret her salad choice, but as she delivered a forkful to her mouth and tasted the sweet and sour of the shredded papaya, she knew she’d made the right decision.
Watching Erika eat made Dess tingle all over. Her lips, her mouth, were so sexy every time she delicately lifted the spoon to her mouth. And the way she closed her eyes in pleasure with each mouthful nearly made Dess moan, because that blissful look reminded her of the endless, passionate kisses they’d shared. And of how they’d nearly made love. The thought quickened her pulse, excitement and fear battling for supremacy. Making love was definitely a new and deeper level of commitment, an implied promise of some kind of a future together. At least for Dess it was. And while she wanted Erika with a ferocity that surprised and thrilled her, she feared she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Her head spun with how fast everything was happening, especially for someone who hadn’t dated anyone in years and wasn’t looking for a relationship.
It seemed like it was just last week she’d only met Erika and that it was just yesterday she’d first become aware of the growing attraction between them. And now…now they were at the stage of kissing and making out and looking at each other like they couldn’t wait to get out of here and rip each other’s clothes off. When did all this happen?
“Earlier…” Erika said, appraising Dess again with those penetrating eyes. She leaned closer and lowered her voice, sending another tingling current through Dess. “When we were making out, you said you were scared to go too fast. Will you tell me what you mean? What you’re scared of?”
She did not, as she gazed into those deep, dark pools, want to be scared of anything with Erika. I want to trust you, she thought. I want to be safe with you. She’d been burned so badly before, she didn’t know if she could let someone fully inside anymore. She took a deep breath, knowing Erika would not allow her question to be dismissed.
“I guess,” Dess replied, setting down her sweating glass of ginger lemonade, “I’m afraid of getting serious too soon. We still have three months ahead of us on this tour, and—”
“Are you worried we’ll have a falling out and won’t be able to work together?”
“Partly, of course. Or that it will somehow change the dynamics between us and interfere with our work.”
“Do you trust that we’re both professionals? That we can keep the two areas separate?”
Dess thought about that and knew Erika was right. “Yes, I do trust that we can handle working together no matter what’s going on in our personal life.”
“All right, we’ve got that out of the way.” Erika smiled softly. “Is it the age thing?”
Unable to help herself, Dess laughed. “Have you ever used a dial telephone? Or a typewriter?”
Erika smiled a little sheepishly, then laughed. “No, but if it will make you feel better I’ll visit the nearest antique shop so I can say yes.”
Still smiling, Dess said, “No, I’m only kidding. Getting to know the woman you are has definitely removed the age thing from the equation.” Except—oh God, she’ll be relentless in bed, absolutely voracious. How the hell am I going to keep up? Then Dess was struck with the thought that if she couldn’t keep up, that was more than okay. I’ll just lie back and enjoy!
“You’re blushing.”
Dess raised a hand to her cheek. Yup, it was warm. “You caught me. I was thinking about…certain things.” She felt her blush deepen as Erika’s eyes shone with pleasure.
“I definitely want to hear more about those thoughts,” Erika whispered as their large bowl of shared pad thai was set in front of them.
Watching Erika eat again, Dess was overcome by the urge to kiss her. To taste the lime and ginger on her lips. To explore that luscious, warm mouth with her tongue. She wanted to be dizzy with desire again, to ache from want. More than anyone she’d met in the last six years, Erika could make her forget all those reasons that had held her back from relationships before. Reasons? Hell, what reasons? she wondered, now unable to think of a single good one.
Erika’s voice snapped her out of her lightheadedness. “So what are you really scared of, Dess? With me.”
Dess took another bite, stalling for time. She knew Erika deserved a truthful explanation, but it was going to dredge up a lot of memories she’d hoped were buried for good. “Can we wait until later, when we’re alone?”
“Sure. So in the meantime, how about you tell me what you were thinking of when you were blushing?”
Dess felt heat infusing he
r cheeks again. She couldn’t think of Erika now and not think about kissing her while they were rolling around on the floor. And how turned on she was as Erika had cupped her breast and stroked her through her bra. Days ago she’d begun wearing nice underwear with the secret hope that things might soon escalate between them. She had to cross her legs now to stem the rush of desire flooding through her. How, she wondered, could she have gone from entrenched celibacy to this in such a short time?
“If I tell you,” Dess finally said, “they’ll need to call the fire department to hose me down.”
Erika growled playfully. “If you’re wanting to get wet, I can think of a few ways.”
Dess nearly choked on her noodles. Christ, I’m already wet. Don’t you know that?
“Sorry,” Erika said, clearly not sorry at all.
The waiter asked them if they wanted coffee, but Dess and Erika only needed to look at each other in a tacit agreement that they had to get the hell out of here.
* * *
While Dess was out on a short stroll with Maggie, Erika poured them each a glass of white wine, then lit the half-dozen candles she’d hurriedly placed around the living room. Her iPod was ready to go with a romantic playlist she’d put together last night after Dess had gone to bed, wanting to be prepared for anything. She smoothed her hands over her jeans, released another button on her white cotton blouse to reveal yet more cleavage. She wanted Dess to look at her again the way she’d looked at her over dinner. Like she wanted to eat her. Oh please, she thought hopefully, eat me up as though I’m the last thing there is between you and starvation!
But as much as she wanted to make love with Dess, she wanted so much more. She wanted all of Dess. Wanted her secrets, her joys, her tears, her laughter, her fears—all of it. She wanted them to have a future together, but she was realistic enough to know that wasn’t going to happen until Dess fully trusted her. There were still things, she felt, that Dess wasn’t telling her.
The Song in My Heart Page 12