They’d talked about books, movies, and food. They’d discussed their favorite spots in Atlanta, current events, and sports. Exploring someone emotionally and physically had excited her. They’d had their bumbling moments and awkward silences, but she’d found even those thrilling in the sense that nothing was a foregone conclusion. She’d spent at least a decade on autopilot, but during her time with Davis, Nic didn’t have a past or responsibilities. She was free, and life was fun again. She’d never once felt guilty with Davis, but the closer she got to home, the more her conscience made up for lost time.
She didn’t live in a fantasy world. Pretending to be a free woman didn’t actually make her one. There had been a couple of other women over the years, but always during hazy nights in dark bars. None of them ever saw her the next morning, and none of them connected in a meaningful way. Most importantly, Nic had never felt unfaithful. She knew it was a weak justification, but she’d never shared anything that seemed more personal than a handshake with the others. Those encounters had been only physical, and even in that area they’d always fallen short of what she had with Belle. This time, though, she couldn’t deny her betrayal. She talked to Davis in ways she used to talk to Belle, beautiful sweet Belle, who’d never done anything but be everything Nic asked of her.
She rubbed her face and her car hit the rumble strip. She had to pull herself together. Falling apart after the fact wouldn’t undo what she’d done, and a teary confession of her sins wouldn’t bring any peace to Belle. In fact, Belle didn’t need any peace. As far as she knew, she had everything she wanted. Was it better to tell her the truth and shatter her happiness just to ease Nic’s own guilt?
She drove off the interstate and turned into their subdivision. The yards were immaculately cared for, and the houses were grandiose. She’d lived here for years, but she was still hit with a bout of pride every time she pulled into her driveway. It wasn’t a mansion, but it sure beat a one-room apartment down the back alley of some seedy city street. She’d done well for them, better than anyone expected from a piece of no-name trailer trash from a hick town in southern Georgia. She couldn’t lose that now.
Belle stood waiting at the door wearing a calf-length denim skirt that showcased her hourglass frame, with a white V-neck shirt and brown boots. Her long blond locks were loosely braided and her smile as sweet as honey. She had been pretty in college, but over the years Belle had grown into the perfect picture of Southern beauty.
She threw her arms around Nic’s neck and kissed her cheek. “Welcome home, baby. I missed you.”
“Did you really?”
“You know I did. This house isn’t a home without you.”
“You say the sweetest things.”
Belle laughed and took Nic’s suitcase. “Come inside and I’ll tell you some more of them.”
Nic walked through her front door and was surrounded by the aroma of freshly fried chicken and baking cornbread. There had to be a full feast waiting just around the corner. “Belle, what have you done? It smells better than a restaurant in here. I thought I was taking you out to dinner.”
“Oh, did you really want to go out? You’ve had to eat out all week, and I know none of the restaurants make chicken the way you like, so I just took care of it for you.” She led her into the dining room to a fully set table with a white linen tablecloth, their good china loaded down with chicken, collard greens, mashed potatoes and gravy, and tall glasses of sweet tea, no doubt all made from scratch. It looked like a photograph out of Southern Living. “Besides, now I have leftover buttermilk to make you biscuits and gravy for breakfast in the morning.”
“It looks like you’ve been cooking all afternoon. You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know I didn’t have to, darling. I wanted to.”
“Why?” Nic asked, honestly in awe of her wife’s devotion.
Belle smiled a smile so sweet it implied she thought the question just a little silly. “Because I love you.”
Emotion tightened Nic’s throat, and she had to blink away her tears. She’d risked all this, everything she’d worked for, everything she’d been so blessed with, and for what? A few hours of carelessness, the illusion of freedom, the thrill of a chase? What an idiot, and so damn weak. Davis was an unknown, and Nic had gotten swept up in the excitement of her newness. But Belle was beautiful too, and more than that they shared a history. Their fears, their dreams. Belle had loved her when she’d had nothing. She’d seen her sick and weak. She’d held her when she’d cried and had faith in her even when she’d fallen. What kind of person would put her whims before the feelings of the woman she loved most in the world? Certainly someone unworthy of that kind of love.
“What is it, Nic?” Belle asked. “We can go out if you want to. The food will keep.”
Nic pulled her in, holding her snugly to her chest. “No, it’s perfect. You’re too good to me, Belle. I don’t deserve you.”
“Hush now,” Belle whispered. “None of that. You take such good care of me. It makes me feel good to take care of you, too. Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about your week?”
“Okay.” Nic nodded. She couldn’t fall apart and alert Belle to anything out of the ordinary. Not now, not after she’d learned her lesson. She wanted to spend this weekend being grateful for what she had and living up to the faith Belle put in her. “On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“You let me show you how much I love you later tonight.”
Belle’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and Nic loved that even after thirteen years of sharing a bed together she could still make Belle blush with merely the hint of her desire. Yet another blessing she’d no longer take for granted.
Chapter Three
Annabelle checked her reflection in the mirror. She still felt self-conscious trying to be sexy but couldn’t pinpoint why. She worked hard to keep her body toned and her skin soft. She’d been blessed with naturally blond hair, so her few grays blended in well. She wasn’t being immodest to think herself attractive, and her nightgown should have only added to her confidence. It was a beautiful piece of silk, tactfully tailored around her breasts and waist before flowing loosely to her knees. Nic had brought it home for her from San Francisco, and Annabelle could only imagine what she’d paid for it. She was so fortunate to have a woman who loved and appreciated her the way Nic did, and maybe that’s why her stomach still fluttered with anticipation at the thought of joining her in their bed. And to think, she’d actually left the house frustrated with her life yesterday.
Annabelle opened the door to their bedroom and Nic glanced up from her book. She was propped on a pillow, her bare torso elongated and her boxer-clad legs stretched out on top of the sheets. Her dark hair, still damp from her shower, hung recklessly across her forehead. Everything about her was sexy. Belle’s mouth went dry at the desire smoldering in Nic’s eyes. The sensations Nic stirred in her were decidedly unladylike, but she doubted any of the ladies she knew had anything this alluring in their bed.
“Belle, you’re a vision. Are you going to join me over here, or would you like me to come to you?”
Belle smiled and walked across the room. Turning back the covers, she slid beneath the sheet and propped herself on one elbow to face Nic. “I missed you.”
Nic’s eyes shifted from Annabelle’s face to her body. She ran her fingers lightly down the length of her arm, gently pushing back the sheet as she went. “I missed you, too.”
Nic scooted closer until Annabelle felt the heat of her body. Her touch grew firmer, and she worked her way back up Belle’s side. She stopped to caress the curve of her hip through the silk of her nightgown. “I love this spot. This curve right here is just perfect. And so is this one.” Nic slid her palm farther up to graze the side of Belle’s breasts just once, but she didn’t linger there. Instead she continued on her trajectory until she cupped Belle’s cheek in her hand and ran her thumb softly across her lips.
Enshrouded in a co
ne of soft amber light from Nic’s reading lamp, Annabelle thrilled at the emotions she saw reflected in Nic’s eyes. She loved to watch Nic watch her. Love and lust mingled in her dark irises, stirring a similar fire in Belle. She shuddered under the power of Nic’s gaze and finally had to close her eyes to the intensity of it. “Please kiss me, Nic.”
She felt an exhale of breath on her skin, followed immediately by the press of Nic’s lips to her own, lightly at first but deepening quickly. She opened herself to Nic’s mouth, sliding onto her back, and offered access to the rest of her body. Nic eased herself over her and, without breaking the contact of their kiss, began to stroke the places that brought her body to life.
Belle had been a virgin when they’d met in college. Ever a good Southern lady in waiting, she’d thought she had been saving herself for a future husband, but it turned out she’d saved herself for Nic, though she made her wait a year’s worth of wooing before she’d allowed her into her bed. She’d been nervous and so unsure of herself, but Nic had been no less patient with her prize than she’d been during her pursuit. She had been steady and gentle in her guidance, and Belle liked to think whatever she had lacked in experience, she’d more than made up for with her eagerness to please.
Nic, on the other hand, was no novice. Already a skilled lover by the first time they slept together, she hadn’t been content with her accomplishments. Over the years she’d studied every inch of flesh, learning exactly how and where Belle liked to be touched, kissed, or caressed. She pulled down the straps of Belle’s nightdress and lowered them until she could run her fingers in a delicate pass over each breast. She understood from over a decade of practice that Belle responded best when given proper time, and Nic reveled in taking her time. She placed kisses of varying length and pressure along Belle’s neck and shoulders, down her chest, and to her stomach.
Reaching down with her free hand she glided her palm up Belle’s legs, pushing up the flowing length of silk as she teased her way along her inner thigh, then slipped outward over her hip and left the fabric gathered around her waist. She eased Belle up just enough to push the nightgown over the top of her body and off, before cupping the back of her head in one hand and lowering her gently back to the bed. Belle loved it when Nic cradled her descent back to the pillow, as if she cherished her too much to let her fall even a short distance onto the softest of surfaces. She lifted her own hands to feel the muscles flex and contract along Nic’s back and shoulders as Nic kissed her again.
In full concentration now, Nic did all the things that would bring Belle right to the edge of herself. She used knowledge of her body, the places where she needed a soft touch, the times when she needed a deep kiss, to recognize the moment she was ready to let go completely. She slipped slowly inside and waited for Belle to set the pace of their rhythm with the subtle movements of her hips.
Annabelle watched through a haze of arousal as Nic’s dark pupils dilated until they almost consumed the blue around them, when she registered the signs of Belle’s impending release. Annabelle always held Nic’s eyes for as long as she could, marveling at the sight of her until the physical overwhelmed her and she lost control of herself. Nic seemed to share in the power of that connection, but tonight instead of reflecting the intensity of the gaze, she closed her eyes as she kissed Belle. The move wasn’t unpleasant, just an unfamiliar departure from their usual script, and Belle took a moment to adjust to the change. But distraction could never hold her for long with Nic’s lips on hers, and she easily surrendered to the waves of pleasure rolling through her.
Nic never stopped stroking her until every last shudder subsided. Then she withdrew slowly before lowering herself next to her on the bed. She placed a kiss lightly on her temple and whispered sweet words in her ear. It was a beautiful wind-down routine, and Annabelle soaked up their closeness tonight as much as she always did. She snuggled into the crook of Nic’s arm, her head resting on her chest to hear the familiar rhythm of her heartbeat. “Have I mentioned yet how much I like having you home?”
Nic kissed her on the forehead. “You might have said something to that effect.”
“With what you just did for me, can you blame me for wanting to chain you to the bed and keep you all for myself?”
Nic’s laugh sounded a little strangled. “You’re too generous.”
“Not at all. You’re the best lover a girl could ask for.”
“Not that you have any experience to judge that on.”
“I don’t need to go to anyone else to know I’ve got everything I want right here.” Other women might have felt cheated to have only had one lover, but Belle felt blessed to have found everything she’d ever wanted on the first try. She raised her head off the pillow so she could look Nic in the eyes when she made her next point. “And besides, I love that you’re the only one who’s ever touched me. I gave my most precious gift to you, and it’s yours for as long as you want me.”
Nic sighed heavily and extracted her arm from under Belle. She scooted to the edge of the bed and rubbed her face before standing.
“Did I say something wrong?” Belle asked, startled at the abrupt departure.
“No.” Nic turned around with a smile. “You’re the best. I just have to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Annabelle lay back on the bed. “But hurry back. I’m not through with you.”
“Don’t worry, honey,” Nic called from the bathroom. “I plan on sleeping in your arms all night long.”
Belle smiled. That’s exactly what she intended to do too, but only after she’d exhausted Nic enough to assure she slept soundly.
*
“We’ve only had two dates, if you can even call them dates, but I can’t stop thinking about her,” Davis said as soon as Cass took a seat next to her in the coffee shop.
“It’s your lesbian urge to merge.”
“No, I already told you, we’re not renting the U-Haul. We’re just going to take it how it comes.”
Cass raised her eyebrows over the rim of her tall skim latte with a double shot of espresso.
“Really, we are. Would you believe I don’t even know what she does for a living or where she lives?”
“Those do seem like basic get-to-know-you kinds of questions.”
“I know, right?” Davis said as she adjusted the margins on a pamphlet she was editing. “She knows where I live, of course, but not much more in the way of basics.”
“And be honest, the not knowing is eating you up inside.”
“I won’t lie.” Davis grimaced. “There are moments when I feel insane. Who sleeps with a woman twice without knowing anything other than her name?”
“Well, me, of course. But did you actually sleep with her, or just fuck her brains out?”
“Actually we haven’t really slept. She had to be up early both times, and it’s pretty obvious that if we’re together anywhere near a bed, neither of us will get any rest. I’m not usually like this. I have all my usual doubts in between dates, but as soon as I see her I can’t remember any of them.”
“It’s probably hard to concentrate on details with her firm tits in your mouth.”
“Geeze, Cass.” Davis flushed and slouched lower behind her laptop screen. “Do you have to have a gutter mouth all the time?”
“Come on, like anyone here cares. The only person who can even hear us,” she nodded to the barista behind the counter, “probably had a tit in her mouth last night too, or at least wishes she did.”
Cass had a point. Outwrite Books in Midtown Atlanta, where Davis liked to set up her laptop on weekday mornings, wasn’t generally frequented by squares or prudes. Their clientele was largely young and gay, with a dose of straight hipsters and fruit flies thrown in, but even in the friendliest of crowds Davis had more respect for herself and others than to share Cass’s vocabulary or cavalier attitude. “It’s not just the sex.”
“Well, if you aren’t talking to her and it’s not the sex, what’s it about?”
“We a
ctually do talk to each other, just not about the boring stuff. We talked for hours on Thursday night.” Davis felt herself slipping out of her casual façade just a little as she remembered the connection they’d shared. “We only discuss things we’re passionate about. Politics, art, and the city are on that list of things that matter. Our jobs and pasts aren’t. And in bed it’s the same story. There’s no holding back. We just go where we feel moved to go. It’s refreshing.”
“I bet.” Cass grinned conspiratorially. “Casual is key. And not to say I told you so, but did I tell you so?”
“Hey, you’re preaching to the converted, but I don’t think I could be like this with just anyone. I feel connected to Nic. We’re open with each other without the pretense of awkward first dates. I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, because part of our charm together isn’t planning things out, but I could really see myself having a future with her.”
Cass’s expression turned serious, worried even. “Ah, there it is. Call the movers. Pick out a sperm donor. I should’ve known all your ‘whatever will be will be’ talk was just an elaborate cover for ‘I’m already gone.’”
“I can’t explain it. I just feel it. She’s attentive and easygoing. She doesn’t pressure me to be something I’m not, and without all the acting and posturing and game playing, I can really trust her. I’m not picking out wedding dresses or baby daddies. I love this relationship exactly how it is.”
Davis understood how silly she sounded proclaiming not to have any plans one minute and then talking about their future together in the very next breath. She wished she was more centered, but she’d been bounced around so much she wasn’t even sure what to want any more. Early on she’d loved the adventure of life in the big city, standing on her own two feet and proving her family wrong. She’d become an independent woman, and she worked hard to maintain that status, but independence didn’t have to mean lonely, right? “Nic’s not too much and not too little for this stage in my life. She’s exactly what I’ve hoped to find. Who wouldn’t see a future in that?”
Does She Love You? Page 4