by C. Fonseca
“God, you are amazing,” Alexa said, brushing her palms over Eleanor’s bare shoulders and down her arms, leaving tingles in her wake. She hooked a finger into the top of Eleanor’s pants, pulling her forward.
Eleanor sucked in a breath and met Alexa’s gaze. She clasped Alexa’s wrists, holding them to her chest with shaky hands. “No, it’s you. You are incredibly beautiful.”
Desire flickered in Alexa’s eyes, and Eleanor couldn’t wait anymore, reaching around Alexa’s shoulders to grasp the zip on the back of the pinafore with one hand, smoothly unzipping it.
Alexa’s laugh was a wondrous sound, rich and delicious. “Cheeky move,” she said, sliding her tongue once again across Eleanor’s bottom lip, causing another wave of heat to flush Eleanor’s entire body.
Eleanor lifted Alexa’s pinafore to her waist. “Let me,” she whispered.
Alexa nodded her approval, and her eyes darkened.
Eleanor gripped the top of Alexa’s tights, sliding them off. Alexa kicked them aside. Eleanor crouched, running her hands slowly from Alexa’s slender ankles, up the graceful curve to her knees. The temptation to bury her face at the apex of Alexa’s thighs made Eleanor’s head spin. She stood shakily and, with trembling hands, lifted the pinafore over Alexa’s head. Her smooth black camisole bra showed off the swell of generous breasts.
“Exquisite.” Eleanor brushed the elastic of Alexa’s matching briefs, leaving a trail of goosebumps below her abdomen.
Alexa’s steady gaze was part invitation, part challenge.
Eleanor reverently caressed Alexa’s breasts through the sheer fabric of her bra. She could barely stay on her feet as she took the hardening bud between her lips, pressing firmly with her tongue, and a whimpering sound escaped from deep within Alexa’s throat. Eleanor felt her senses unfold, opening like petals in the sunshine.
Alexa pushed Eleanor backwards until her calves hit the side of the bed and she sat down. “Still too many clothes,” Alexa said, kneeling at her feet, tugging off Eleanor’s shoes.
Alexa effortlessly flicked open the silver belt buckle, loosened Eleanor’s jeans, and pressed Eleanor back onto the bed, quickly peeling off her remaining clothes, tossing them in the air.
Eleanor laughed, amused by Alexa’s playful assertiveness. She pushed herself up on her elbows and grinned up at Alexa.
Alexa licked her lips. “Oh my. This is how I imagined you. So perfect.” She quickly shed her undergarments.
The sight of Alexa naked had Eleanor light-headed and reaching for her. “Come here.” Her own voice was unrecognisable. “Please.”
With a provocative smile, Alexa placed her hands on either side of Eleanor’s thighs. Eleanor held her breath as tension coiled deep within her. Alexa’s glazed eyes raked over Eleanor before she lowered her body. Eleanor instinctively opened her legs, and Alexa settled between them.
The air sizzled with the heat of their connection, and Eleanor gasped at the sensation overload. Too quick. She wanted to slow things down. With one hand on Alexa’s shoulder, she rolled them both over until Alexa was flat on her back beneath her.
Alexa lifted her head. “You’re good at that, but I can still do this.” She covered Eleanor’s breast with her mouth, and a warm tingling ache spread to her centre.
“Alexa.” Eleanor huffed out a shallow breath.
“Yes, Eleanor?”
“Please…stop. I mean, don’t…” Eleanor moaned with pleasure. “I can’t think straight.”
Alexa gave a husky laugh. “Considering what we’re doing, I’m very lucky you feel that way.” She cupped Eleanor’s breast, kneading it lightly. “Do you want me to stop?”
Eleanor bit down on her lower lip. “No, please don’t.”
Alexa clasped Eleanor’s hips and expeditiously reversed their positions again. “Good. I’ve only just started.” Alexa crawled down, her lips and hands travelling along Eleanor’s body. “You’re so sweet. Warm…golden…like sunshine.” The vibration of Alexa’s lips against her skin made Eleanor squirm.
She pushed her head back into the pillows. “That feels so good. So damn good.” How did Alexa already know all her sensitive spots? Eleanor’s fingers curled desperately in the sheets as Alexa’s mouth lingered so close to her centre. She didn’t have long to wait before the first brush of Alexa’s fingers set a perfect rhythm. Seconds later, when Alexa’s tongue found her, swiping slowly through her heat, Eleanor’s hips arched off the bed, and she tumbled into sweet oblivion.
* * *
Alexa grinned lazily and flopped across the bed. It was a complete shambles. The dove grey sheets were pulled from their moorings. Lots of pillows were strewn around the room, like the aftermath of a pillow fight. She peered over the edge of the mattress. The green comforter lay in a heap with their discarded clothes. Eleanor’s girl-shorts hung off the edge of the dresser where Alexa had tossed them. Incredibly, Eleanor still lay naked in her bed. Alexa sighed with contentment.
She turned her head to face the sleeping woman beside her, curling her hand around Eleanor’s bicep, relishing the incredible feeling of Eleanor’s muscles beneath her fingers. Heat radiated along Alexa’s arm, and her skin tingled.
Recalling her wondrous response to Eleanor’s touch, while they’d pleasured each other for hours, Alexa shuddered. Eleanor’s boundless energy could have lit up the entire suburb. With the taste of Eleanor still on her lips, sweet and heady, Alexa inched closer to feel the length of her warm body, and desire flared. Alexa was ready to experience all of that magic again.
Usually, when Alexa dated someone, she had the urge to get up and run home to her own bed after sex. When she shared her own bed, she’d end up edgy and uncomfortable. Not now. Not with Eleanor. Alexa wanted Eleanor to stay.
Eleanor was lying on her side, one hand tucked under her chin. Alexa reached out and combed her fingers through the silky strands of Eleanor’s hair. It couldn’t hurt to lay here for a few minutes…or five. Eleanor looked so at peace and youthful, with flushed skin, and long lashes fanned across her cheeks. Alexa succumbed to the soft tug of longing and tightened her hold around Eleanor’s narrow waist.
She trailed a finger along Eleanor’s lean shoulder, inching the sheet down to her slightly flared hip, where a tiny black outline of a camera was inked.
Eleanor’s eyelashes fluttered open. “I was twenty-two and got very drunk with a few friends from the newspaper.” Her voice was a little husky. “Thankfully, I wasn’t crazy enough to get a tattoo I’d regret for the rest of my life.”
Alexa tickled her side with a light caress. “Oh, you mean like a huge curling dragon spiralling your torso? Or your girlfriend’s name around your bicep? I mean your girlfriend then.” She leaned over and kissed the indelible design, the only visible marking on Eleanor’s otherwise unblemished skin.
“That would have been Terpsichore.” Eleanor chuckled.
Alexa searched her memory. “Ahh, I think that’s the Greek muse of poetry and dance. Was her nickname Topsy Terpi?”
Eleanor giggled. “She really loved dramatics, just like her namesake.”
Alexa cleared her throat. “Speaking of stagy women…did you enjoy your time in Queensland with the beautiful people?” Alexa knew her tone hung somewhere between amused and mocking.
“You’re wicked.” Eleanor pulled the tangled sheet from around Alexa’s legs and nudged her onto her back. She cupped Alexa’s face gently in her hands. “And you are beyond beautiful.”
Alexa sighed, putting her arms around Eleanor’s shoulders, and wrapped her legs around her tightly, squeezing Eleanor’s hips with her thighs. Unlike earlier, when they’d devoured each other at a ravenous, frantic pace, this time Eleanor moved against Alexa in a deliberately slow, seductive dance.
She squeezed her eyes shut as Eleanor cupped her breast with her hand and gently rolled Alexa’s nipple between her fingers. When Eleanor’s mouth covered Alexa�
�s breast, she buried her face into the crook of Eleanor’s neck, trying to slow the moment and lower the pace of her escalating heartbeat.
Alexa arched her back in anticipation and instinctively pushed against Eleanor until she moved her hand between Alexa’s thighs, and her fingers stroked Alexa’s tender flesh and slid inside. Alexa’s body responded in a flash to Eleanor’s touch, and her breathing hitched. She clenched the sheet in her fist as her legs began to shake, and she writhed under the exquisite pressure for several incredible moments. Alexa moaned loudly as her orgasm engulfed her, and she finally surrendered to the waves of pleasure that exploded through her body.
After a few minutes, Eleanor gently dropped a kiss on her temple and Alexa’s breathing slowed.
“Lucky me,” Eleanor said. Her voice was little more than a whisper.
Alexa wrapped an arm around Eleanor. Lucky me. The scent of Eleanor’s hair, her warm breath fluttering against Alexa’s neck and Eleanor’s hand curled in the centre of Alexa’s chest—felt natural. Alexa was contented and for now, just being here together, was all she needed.
After a while, Eleanor dozed off again, and Alexa eased herself out of her arms and snuck off to use the bathroom. When her bare feet hit the chilly tiles, she realised she’d forgotten to switch on the central heating. She grabbed her robe and headed downstairs to turn it on making sure to collect a jug of water on her way back through the kitchen so she could refill their glasses.
When she returned, Alexa smiled at the sight of the still-sleeping woman, bathed in a hint of early morning light. She topped up the glasses on the side table, pulled the sheet back, and slid back into bed. Wrapping her arms around Eleanor, she snuggled in once again and pressed her chilled feet against Eleanor’s warm calf.
Eleanor shifted in her arms, trailed her hand over Alexa’s silk robe, and asked in a croaky voice, “Are you cold?”
“A little. It cools off in this cavernous space overnight. I forgot to switch the heater on.”
“Hey, I can warm you up.” Eleanor wrapped her arms around Alexa and pressed a delicate kiss on her lips. “Are you okay?” she asked, blinking those amazingly broody dark eyes.
Alexa nodded. “Hmm…I am.” She squeezed her eyes shut. There would be time later to examine the tender emotions that had surfaced each time Eleanor had brought her to an earth-moving orgasm. And the overwhelming joy and protectiveness that washed over her when Eleanor had shuddered in pleasure under her touch.
Alexa wasn’t just wildly attracted to Eleanor; she cared about her, and that was okay. But the increasing desire to be around Eleanor, to include her in her plans, was dangerous and left Alexa exposed.
“I won’t be able to see you for the next couple of days,” Eleanor said.
Could Eleanor read her mind? Alexa slowly opened her eyes. No. She saw the flicker of disappointment on Eleanor’s face. The longing in her eyes. It was probably a good idea to put a bit of distance between them. “I’ll be busy at work the rest of the week, anyway.”
“Of course.” Eleanor sat up against the pillows and was quiet for a moment, then tugged the sheet up over her breasts. “Mum’s in Sydney for work, and I promised to hang around at home to take Dad to rehab and keep him company in the evenings. You mentioned about doing something on the weekend?”
Alexa regretted sounding snappy earlier. In a soothing voice, she said, “I did. Can you come to Chewton with me on Saturday? Actually, through to Monday? I’ve made an appointment with a historian in Castlemaine and, on Saturday night, there’s a friend’s gig. The girls are coming, too.” She pushed Eleanor’s hair back from her face. “We haven’t found all the locations of Helen’s slides yet. What do you think?”
“Okay,” Eleanor said quietly. “I’d love to. Count me in.” Her stomach rumbled loudly, and her face flushed. “I hate airplane food. It’s a long time since I ate.”
“And we skipped dinner altogether.” Alexa wiggled her eyebrows. “What can I make you?”
“I’d be happy with toast. I’d even eat it burnt.”
Alexa looked at her quizzically. Eleanor must have a good sense of smell to know that she’d burnt her breakfast in her haste to catch the tram and get to work on time. “I’m sure we can do better than that. How about leftover lasagne?”
Eleanor moaned. “Yum, yes please.”
“There’s also lots of fruit and a tub of Bush Honey ice cream in the freezer.” Alexa poked Eleanor gently in the ribs.
Eleanor’s eyes widened, and she licked her lips.
Alexa grabbed Eleanor’s hand. “Come with me. I can’t have you fainting.”
Chapter 21
Heavenly gates
A car horn tooted, pulling Alexa out of her trance-like state. She hadn’t been able to get Eleanor out of her mind—not that she wanted to—and found herself constantly reliving their amazing time together at the loft. When had the lights changed to green? She waved her hand out of the window in apology. “Sorry,” she called, telling herself to keep her eyes on the road and concentrate.
Alexa had never known three days to pass so slowly. The nights were worse. When she had slipped into bed, the essence of Eleanor lingered between the sheets, tormenting her. She had to bury her face in her pillow to get any sleep.
Eleanor had left the loft on Wednesday morning around seven thirty, insisting she travel home in an Uber so Alexa wouldn’t be late for work. They’d polished off a rather unconventional breakfast and fed each other spoonfuls of wickedly delicious honey ice cream.
Alexa shivered, recalling the way Eleanor had licked the melted ice cream that had dribbled on her chin and between her breasts, starting another bout of love making, with Alexa on the kitchen table. Eleanor was certainly creative. Alexa wound down the window and fanned herself with her hand.
Crossing the Yarra River at Bridge Road was like entering a different world. Wide leafy streets with some classy homes on huge lots with impressively landscaped gardens. Hawthorn was one of the suburbs where Melbourne’s well-to-do had retreated in the wake of the gold rush.
Alexa had always lived in inner-city higher density neighbourhoods, where weekend markets, cafes, and restaurants were all within walking distance. The houses here were so far apart, you could imagine not meeting a neighbour for a week. How lonely that would be. Not like her own community where it was impossible to avoid running into neighbours and stopping for a chat.
Did it matter that Eleanor’s privileged upbringing was different from Alexa’s own? Alexa hoped not.
She parked alongside the two-metre high stone fence outside number eighty-three Oxford Avenue and peered curiously through the open iron gates and down a tree-lined driveway. Eleanor’s parents were partners in a prominent Melbourne law firm established by Eleanor’s maternal great-grandfather. Alexa wondered if the double storey Victorian mansion had been passed along the generations. Old money. Alexa tapped the leather steering wheel. Not that it mattered. Eleanor was down to earth and altruistic. She didn’t seem affected by the wealth she’d apparently grown up with.
Alexa checked herself in the rear-view mirror and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Taking a few deep breaths, she pushed open the car door. She was eager to see Eleanor again, but now that she was here, outside her parents’ house, she felt queasy.
Inside the gate lay a generously spread-out garden, one corner shaded by a large elm tree. Had Eleanor scaled those majestic branches as a child? She was lucky to have grown up surrounded by flowers, shrubs, and trees. Her own parkland.
As a child, Alexa would meet her friends in the local public gardens, and of course, there were mountains of blooms to enjoy at her mother’s florist shop. Maybe Alexa would have enjoyed a private adventure playground like this, but not at the expense of the freedom to roam with the gang of local kids.
The Heysens’ garden was already rich with the colour and the perfume of spring—the
flower beds a riot of varying hues. A rhythmic chopping and a slightly off-tune humming drew her attention to a neatly trimmed English box hedge.
Spotting a wide-brimmed straw hat bobbing up and down, Alexa peeked around the hedge. The gumboot-wearing gardener had her back to Alexa as she scooped up a pile of cuttings, dumping them into an already overflowing wheelbarrow.
Alexa nearly jumped out of her skin when a gloved hand reached backwards, and a women’s voice demanded, “Don’t sneak up on me, Eleanor. Pass me my water bottle.”
Alexa picked up the bottle that lay on the lawn by her feet. “Here you are.”
The woman pushed back on her heels and turned her head. Her eyes widened in surprise. “You’re not Eleanor.”
“I’m sorry.” Alexa stood to attention and held out the bottle. “The gate was open, and Eleanor told me to come straight to the studio, but I was distracted by this gorgeous garden.”
The woman stood gracefully, pulling off her gloves. She flung them into the wheelbarrow and removed her hat, releasing a tumble of tawny brown curls. “Ah, you must be Alexa.” She smiled, reached for her bottle, tucked it under her arm, and held out her hand. “I’m Sarah Heysen. The studio has its own street entrance off the lane on the right side of the gate.”
Alexa took Sarah’s hand and shook it firmly. “I am Alexa. Yes, Eleanor told me about the lane, but I was drawn into your garden. It is lovely to meet you, Mrs Heysen.”
Sarah gave her an appraising look. “Katherine was right. You are a very pretty woman.” She put her head to one side. “Actually, you’re rather beautiful.”
Alexa lowered her eyes as a flush crept across her cheeks. She couldn’t tell from Sarah’s expression if the comment was meant as a compliment or not.
Eleanor’s mother was attractive. She wore little makeup and her light-olive skin, like her daughter’s, had a vibrant, healthy glow. Eleanor was taller and more slender, but her straight nose and her eyes—those intense deep brown eyes—were definitely inherited from her mother.