Leah was at a loss. She had forgotten about Parker.
Jackie's voice, still quiet, fell into the silence. "Not anymore. I'm a lesbian."
Constance took a step back, looking as stunned as Leah felt. She smiled bitterly at Leah. "Congratulations on converting someone to the faith, darling."
She dropped her voice. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a bitch, but Lee, you don't need some neophyte mucking up your life. You just got it together."
"I know what I want," Leah said.
Constance locked gazes with her. "You always have, haven't you?" Then she turned and walked away.
11
Jackie felt as though she was walking under water. At Leah's prompting she gave the cab driver her address. She sat in the darkness aware of the heat from Leah's body, aware of the smell of her shampoo and the faint odor of dry cleaning solution that clung to her jacket.
Her senses were overloaded. She could hear the steady pace of Leah's breathing, the rumble of the cab's engine and the beating of her own heart.
Leah took her hand and the rhythm of her pulse deafened all other sounds. Her eyes only faintly saw the passing street lights.
"Is this it?" Leah's voice seemed to come from far away.
Jackie looked at the house and after a moment was able to say huskily, "Yes, this is it."
She gave her keys to Leah at the front door and then led the way up the arduous three flights to her apartment. Leah unlocked the door after Jackie pointed out the right key and she led the way inside, stopping just inside the door, her legs trembling.
Leah shut the door and the room plunged into darkness.
Jackie closed her eyes, awash with vertigo. Her breath caught in her throat and she told herself as fiercely as she could manage that she could not cry.
"Jackie, what's wrong?" Softly out of the dark, Leah turned Jackie and wrapped her arms around her.
"I'm scared," Jackie said. "I want you so badly I'm scaring myself."
Leah kissed her softly. "I don't mean to frighten you." She gasped slightly. "I won't hurt you. I couldn't."
"I'm not afraid of you," Jackie whispered. She was afraid of herself, she wanted to say, but the words wouldn't form. She had thought she was ready. But she realized she might not recognize herself in the morning.
It had all seemed so rational, intellectual even. But it wasn't. There was nothing rational about her desire. The consciousness of choice had left her the moment that she looked into Leah's eyes again.
She slid her hands under Leah's jacket and pushed it off Leah's shoulders, then she fumbled with the first button on Leah's shirt, but it wouldn't come undone. She gave a sob of frustration.
Leah captured her fingers and said quietly, "Why don't you sit down on the bed?"
Jackie nodded and walked backward to the bed, her hands gripping Leah's. Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness and she could see Leah's gentle expression.
She sat down and looked up at Leah. Her fingers went to the buttons of Leah's shirt again, but she had no better success. Her mind was lost in a haze. She rested her forehead on Leah's stomach and fought back tears.
Leah tipped Jackie's head up, then knelt in front of her. She kissed Jackie with the lightest of touches.
"Help me," Jackie said. Her arms were too heavy to lift, her legs ached. "Please."
Leah's fingers were more certain with Jackie's buttons and she slowly pulled the silk blouse open and carefully reached around to unhook Jackie's bra.
Jackie shrugged the blouse down her shoulders and impatiently pulled her bra down.
"You're getting tangled," Leah started to say, but Jackie pulled her head down, bringing Leah's mouth to her breasts.
"Dear God," Jackie murmured. She inched back on the bed and Leah's mouth followed her hungrily, then Leah was kneeling over her, feasting on Jackie's breasts even as Jackie crushed Leah's mouth to her.
Jackie wrapped her legs around one of Leah's, bringing herself urgently against Leah's hips. Her own passion was frightening. She couldn't stop herself to wonder if Leah felt the same desperate need. She worried that her desire would repulse Leah, but she couldn't slow down. Her mind told her that she didn't know what to do, but her body knew. Her hands went to Leah's shirt again and when the buttons wouldn't give way she tore them.
Leah groaned and her mouth left Jackie's breasts. She stood up for only a moment, shaking off her torn shirt, and kicking off her slacks. Then she was kneeling over Jackie again.
She rolled Jackie over, unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt, then rolled her face up again. Jackie was dizzy. She didn't care, just lifted her hips so Leah could pull her skirt down. She heard her pantyhose shred and then her clothes hitting the floor. She opened her legs and grabbed Leah's hand and guided it to the burning heat.
Her own groan drowned out Leah's. She had never been this wet and this ready. "Show me," she said hoarsely. "Show me what it's like between women."
Her body was rigid with sensation; only her hips felt like liquid, rippling in response to the strength of Leah's fingers. Leah murmured something incoherent as Jackie lifted her hips to meet her. Her body was an aching blur soothed by Leah's fingers inside her, quicker now, harder now.
Something would explode, she had no idea what. She couldn't stand this pleasure—it was almost agony. She writhed to meet Leah, heard Leah murmuring in her passion and then knew — she was exploding with deep, wrenching moans, frighteningly primal, sounds she'd never made before. Her body spasmed, her lungs felt as though they would burst.
She crested at a peak she hadn't even dreamed could be so incredibly high. She sank sobbing for air into the bed, Leah's fingers deep within her. She felt, with a tremor that left her muscles aching, Leah's tongue on her.
Her whole body was liquid now. Leah's tongue swept through her, into her. Jackie whimpered as Leah's fingers left her, then sighed as Leah wrapped her arms tightly around her hips, crushing Jackie's wetness to her mouth. Jackie melted into the bed, her body a river of sensation, seeking equilibrium. She was at peace for a moment, then Leah's tongue flickered over the tender nerves between her legs and Jackie began the long climb to ecstasy again, unsure she could rise that high again, not a second time. But Leah's mouth drove her higher, lifted her to a new peak.
The air was thin, her head spun, but she was anchored to reality by Leah's tongue on her. She grabbed Leah's hands, held them bruisingly tight as she surged against Leah's mouth. She came in a moment of perfect stillness, her muscles balanced against Leah's, eyes clenched to purple fireworks. Then Leah released her hands and Jackie let her head fall back. Her legs slid limply down onto Leah's shoulders and she rested, sublimely aware of her breath filling her lungs and the silk of Leah's hair on her thigh.
Leah shivered as the fine film of perspiration on her back chilled. Sharla had never needed her like that. Constance had been needy, but self-contained at all times. And they had been all she had known, until now. Until Jackie brought her almost to the point of tears.
She wanted to concentrate on Jackie, but Sharla crowded in — how could she help but think of her? Was it wrong to compare them? She and Sharla had developed their sexual communication gradually, finding in each other the needs that shaped their passion. It had been several years before the sex was staggeringly powerful, but that had been different from what she felt now, her fingers and face covered with Jackie's scent. Right now she was scared she had gone too far and too fast for her, but Jackie had stunned Leah with the powerful contractions of her body, pulling Leah in, asking for more until Leah wasn't sure she could keep up.
She was exhausted and could have slept, leaving the moment of having Jackie perfect unto itself. Her body reminded her of her own needs and she quelled them, not sure what Jackie would be ready to do. Jackie seemed to be asleep.
Then Jackie stirred with a long, deep sigh. "Thank you for that," she said, her voice drifting softly down around Leah's ears. "So that's what I've been missing."
"I'm sorry I was mean that
morning—"
"Don't be! Oh God, don't be."
Leah wanted to admit that she wasn't a vastly experienced lover and that she was feeling brand new sensations. And that she was scared. Should she tell Jackie that she wanted to bury her face between Jackie's thighs again and stay there, that she wanted in the worst way to feel Jackie's fingers inside her, that she was ready to give all control to Jackie in the same degree Jackie had given it to her? Too soon. It was too far to jump.
Fear made her cautious and she tried for a joking tone. "Have you got it out of your system?"
Jackie was quiet and then she reached for Leah's hand, drawing the coated fingers to her mouth. Her tongue slowly traced a line up Leah's palm and index finger, then she put Leah's hand on her breast. "I want it in my system for always."
Leah trembled as Jackie's hips moved in a tiny circle, echoing the rhythm of Leah's hand stroking her breast. She closed her eyes and inhaled Jackie's scent, then Jackie sat up and pushed Leah onto her back.
She took Leah in her arms with a deep, sensuous kiss. One hand played over Leah's breasts, then her lips left Leah's mouth to tease the small, erect tips. Leah felt the caresses in every nerve, crowding out all other sensation. She almost didn't hear Jackie's whispered question.
"Is this okay?"
"Yes," Leah murmured. She looked down and felt a rush of passion at the sight of Jackie's mouth on her breasts. "I like that."
Jackie raised her head slightly. "You'll tell me, won't you? If I do something you don't like?"
Leah nodded, unable to speak, then she pulled Jackie's head down to her breasts again. She closed her eyes and arched her back and let the exquisite teasing apply layer after layer of passion to her trembling body. Jackie's mouth became demanding, her caresses frantic and Leah's hips jerked in response.
Jackie raised her head again and Leah looked down, met her burning gaze. "Is it okay?" She licked her lips. "Can I... I want to..." Her glance flickered down Leah's body.
Leah pushed herself up on one elbow and ran one hand over Jackie's hair, tracing the ripples where the braiding began. Her hand cupped Jackie's neck as Jackie kissed her thigh. Gently, she pressed Jackie's head toward her, trying to say without words that she wanted Jackie to taste her.
Jackie nodded slightly, her eyes closed. Leah watched Jackie lower her mouth to her and heard Jackie's hungry groan. Her vision swam at the sight of Jackie's beautiful body curved over her own, the pale cream of Jackie's throat against the darker tint of her own thighs. Her arms gave out, she fell back and felt Jackie gather her more fiercely into her arms.
Jackie began gently, but with a sure touch that deepened. She shifted her position and held Leah open, her tongue exploring folds and ripples, then sinking into the font of Leah's wetness. She teased until Leah was thrusting her hips up and moaning and then her mouth sank deeply into Leah's flesh, holding Leah to her with crushing strength. Leah bucked, stifling the cry that was building in her chest. She felt Jackie's hips jerk in response as Leah's body tensed once, twice and a third time with enough force to break Jackie's grip and paint the back of Leah's eyelids with crimson lightning.
She wasn't prepared for the soft glide of Jackie's fingers into her. She moaned. "I can't."
Jackie whispered, "I want to taste you again. While I do this to you." Her fingers moved slowly and her tongue was the lightest caress.
"I don't think I can. I... one's usually enough —" Leah tried to roll on her side, but Jackie pinned Leah's weak, trembling legs easily. Leah relented, too weak to struggle and not wanting to disappoint her.
"I'll go slow," Jackie said. Her tongue whispered over Leah again, her fingers moved languidly. "Just let me taste you and feel you."
Leah raised herself to look at Jackie again. Jackie's eyes were closed, her concentration seemingly devoted to the feel of Leah around her fingers and the taste of Leah on her tongue. Her expression was rapturous, ravenous — Leah flooded with desire again. And saw Jackie pause, become aware of the welcome of Leah's new wetness.
Jackie smiled with sensuous success and her touch grew firmer.
Leah gave herself up to Jackie's gentle demands and found, to her wonder, that she could respond again, not as fiercely, but this time with a complete awareness of each place Jackie touched her and Jackie's unmistakable pleasure.
Jackie pulled the bedclothes over them, what she could find, anyway. Nothing was anchored anymore. "Are you comfortable?" To her own ears, her voice was different. Less breathy, a little deeper in pitch. Adult.
Leah's hips shifted toward her. "I'm fine. Very comfortable."
Jackie let her arm fall across Leah's ribs again and she lightly kissed Leah's back. "Me, too."
She slid into a light sleep where she had just enough control to direct her thoughts to the past hours. To relive the intense moments and feel the lassitude of satisfaction seep through her body again. Utterly satisfied, yet invigorated. She felt, under her fatigue, as though she could run a marathon with brand new muscles and stamina. She felt as if she had finally discovered the strength of her own body and what she was capable of feeling and giving.
Surprising, she mused as she drifted to sleep. Strength from loving a woman. She smiled into Leah's soft shoulder. Was it the love or the woman, she wondered. Or both?
12
"What's your favorite color?" Leah pulled gently on Jackie's earlobe and memorized the soft pink.
Jackie stretched her arms in the morning sunlight and rolled over to face Leah. "The lavender of African violets. And flag red." She smiled impishly. "What's your favorite book?"
"Nature. It's Emerson. What's your favorite food?"
"Crème brulee with blueberries. What's your favorite kind of music?"
"Jazz, when it's live."
"Yeah?" Jackie plumped up her pillow and grinned. "Me too."
They traded insights into their private likes and dislikes while Leah decided what mixture of paints would match the color of Jackie's eyes. Blue alone wouldn't do it. A dash of black and a startling ring of yellow.
An hour passed in talk and laughter. Leah felt more at ease with Jackie than she had at the cabin.
A door slammed downstairs, breaking their comfortable cocoon. Leah didn't want to acknowledge the passage of time, but it was inevitable. She sat up and her stomach growled.
"That's a hint, I think," Jackie said. "I can make coffee and toaster biscuits, if you like." Jackie wrapped a sheet around her body and padded to the little kitchen area. "I'll turn on the heater, too."
"I'd like that very much." Leah watched the thick braid sway against the white of the sheet as Jackie walked away from her. She glanced around the tiny apartment with pleased chagrin. The blankets and comforter were tangled, in marked contrast to tidy bookshelves, a coffee table with what had to be a Jellica Frakes sculpture, and the bright, clear lines of a large Jasper Johns print. Their clothes were strewn from the doorway to the bed. She caught sight of her shirt with its torn buttons and a tingle of new want made her tremble. It wouldn't take much to be ready again for Jackie's touch and her kisses.
She closed her eyes and unexpectedly she saw Sharla's haunting face illuminated with passion, heard her murmuring that Leah was her goddess, that there could never be anyone else. They had pledged each other their faith and loyalty forever. She trembled again, this time from a chill that bit into the pit of her stomach.
Leah wrapped herself in a blanket and stumbled to the bathroom. In the shower she ran the water as hot as she could stand and scrubbed herself vigorously, trying to drown out memories of Sharla.
They had never talked about what they would want a survivor to do. She knew that Sharla would not have wanted her to be alone. She was—had been—too generous. So why did she feel disloyal now? When she hadn't with Constance?
"I don't love Sharla less. I never will," she said to the shampoo bottle. A dancing ache started in her stomach. Was is possible to have loved someone as much as she had Sharla and find a new place in her heart wit
h as much depth and feeling for Jackie? Did she really deserve such love twice in one lifetime? It was more likely that she was missing coupledom. What she had had with Sharla had been lasting and true. She didn't want to give or receive anything less than that. It wasn't in her nature.
She asked herself if she had a whole heart to offer Jackie.
Yes, it was possible. But she wasn't in love. Falling in love with Jackie would be a selfish thing to do. Jackie was nine or so years younger than she was, and younger than that in lesbian years. Attractive and fun and intelligent and caring, Jackie could have her choice of anyone, while she herself had already had a lifetime of love with Sharla. That Jackie had needed to have sex was evident—but that was just closure on what they had started over Thanksgiving.
No doubt Jackie would be ready to play the field now and experience what being a lesbian in San Francisco had to offer. She would not stand in her way.
She combed her hair and repeated her resolve. She would make no demands. She wasn't in love.
When she saw Jackie sitting on the bed, unbraiding her hair, with the sheet revealing the delicate curve of her spine, she felt her body flinch from the onslaught of desire.
Jackie looked up and smiled, then clutched the sheet modestly around her as she went into the bathroom.
Leah poured herself coffee and listened to the thrum of the shower, then the hair dryer. When Jackie opened the bathroom door she was wearing a white robe and holding masses of her hair to the mouth of the dryer.
"This will take another ten minutes or so," she said. "I often think of having it cut."
"Don't," Leah said. "It's too beautiful."
"It's heavy and unruly," Jackie said, swirling most of it up onto her head and drying her scalp. "I have to braid it or it's constantly snarled. It takes forever to do your own French braid, too."
"It's still beautiful," Leah said, smiling.
Jackie smiled back and Leah retreated to the bed, wondering if she should get dressed. She really should. She would not stake any claims for Jackie by staying with her through the day — another night. Her breasts tightened with a sudden ache.
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