by Lyn Denison
“Well, don’t have too much coffee. It’s not good for you late at night,” he said, looking up at her seriously.
Shann bent over and gave him a hug and a smooch on the cheek. “Wouldn’t think of it, Doctor Delaney.”
Corey grinned.
“Now,” Shann glanced at the time. Five to eight. Her tummy fluttered with nervous anticipation. “Do you want to read for a while?” she asked her son.
“I think I’ll do some puzzles in my puzzle book.” Corey took a paperback off his bedside table.
“Okay. Aunty Liz will be in to say good night, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Tell Angie I said hello.”
“I will.” Shann headed for the door.
“And Mum . . .”
She stopped and looked back at Corey.
“You look excellent.”
Shann felt her cheeks warm. She wore a pair of dark green gabardine slacks and a lighter green thick knit sweater. It was a cool evening, and Shann wasn’t sure if Angie’s unit was air-conditioned.
“And Mum,” Corey continued, “you smell delicious.”
“I’m glad about that,” Shann chuckled. “The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.”
Corey giggled. “Have a nice night, Mum.”
Shann blew him a kiss and went to her room. She took a steadying breath and picked up her brush, running it through her dark hair. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was slightly flushed, her eyes bright. She looked like a woman who was about to meet her lover.
Or like a woman who was coming down with something, she chided herself derisively, and bit off a nervous giggle.
Pulling back her sleeve she glanced at the time again. Angie should be here anytime now. She decided to go out onto the veranda to wait for her so she wouldn’t have to get out of the car. Or so she wouldn’t come in because the astute Liz would surely see their plans written in their eyes.
She popped her head into the living room where Liz and Amy were watching television. Her father had decided to have an early night as that morning Shann had taken him to his specialist for a checkup, and he was tired. Shann told Liz she’d wait for Angie outside.
“Say hi to her,” Liz said, looking up from her knitting. “Have you got your key?”
Shann laughed. “Yes, and I’ll try not to be too late.”
Amy laughed. “Don’t worry, Shann. Mum can’t help herself.”
“I know. I’ll see you then.” Shann went out onto the veranda, closing the door behind her.
She sat on the veranda railing and drew in the smell of the shrubs, the residue of a barbecue wafting on the air. Her eyes were drawn to the house next door. It had been a second home to her.
That was until Ann Callahan had discovered Shann and Leigh kissing. Eventually both sets of parents had sat with Shann and Leigh and spoken to them at length about accepted behavior. They were told it would be better if they didn’t see as much of each other. They reluctantly agreed in the face of the combined parental front.
Afterward, the families decided that pretending the incident had never happened was the way to go.
Shann wrapped her arms around her body as the breeze picked up, scooting fallen leaves across the bitumen.
A couple of minutes later Angie drew the MG to a halt in front of the house. Shann’s knees went weak, and she took a deep breath before walking down the steps.
In the glow from the streetlight Angie’s fair hair gleamed like shot silver. Something caught in Shann’s chest, and her mouth went dry. She walked through the gate, loped across the footpath and swung herself into the passenger seat without opening the door.
“Very cool,” laughed Angie.
“Do you think so?” Shann smiled back. “It just occurred to me I could have ended up on my face and totally embarrassed myself.”
“Not the famous Shannon Delaney. No way.”
Their eyes met and Shann couldn’t seem to find her voice. She could only drown in Angie’s smile, in the dark pools of her eyes. She saw Angie swallow.
“You know, I think we should go. Otherwise I might have to kiss you right here, with old Mrs. Jones peeking through her curtains.”
Shann resisted the urge to turn and look at the house across the street. “And I just might kiss you back, no matter who’s watching,” she said softly.
“Word would spread like wildfire,” Angie said as she put the car into gear. “Mrs. Jones could dine out on that story at the Senior Citizens Club for years.”
“Mrs. Jones is ninety-seven. Are you sure she’d recognize us in the dark?”
“Streetlight.” Angie pointed to the light almost directly above them. “And Mrs. Jones is as sharp as a tack and probably has better eyesight than the two of us put together.”
Shann laughed as Angie put the car into gear and pulled away from the curb. In minutes she’d turned the car into an underground garage. She inserted a key in the wall-mounted box, and the door rumbled upward. Driving in, she parked and turned off the ignition.
“Shall we go on up?” She raised a fine brow and Shann smiled.
“Oh, yes. I think we should.”
They climbed out of the car, and Angie unlocked the boot. She passed a wine cooler to Shann and took a small icebox and a colorful cotton blanket out of the back of the car. They stepped into the elevator and as the door slid closed, Shann felt herself flush. She glanced at Angie to find Angie looking at her.
“Top floor?” Shann said breathily.
“Mmm.” Angie swiped her keycard. “I can’t wait for you to see it. I think the previous owners merged two smaller units. Anyway, it’s really quite big. Three bedrooms and a small study.”
They fell silent, and the air in the elevator seemed to grow thick with tension. Shann passed the wine cooler from one hand to the other and when the elevator dinged at their floor, she almost jumped with fright. The doors opened into a small foyer, and Angie stepped across and unlocked the ornate door. She reached inside and flicked the light switch, turning and stepping back. “Welcome. You’re my first guest.”
Shann walked into the unit and whistled softly. “Angie, this is great.”
The kitchen was off to the right and a small study to the left. In front of her was the living-dining room. The floor was polished timber and although the unit was unpainted, the potential was obvious. Leaving everything on the kitchen bench, Angie showed Shann the rest of the apartment. Then she slid the glass doors open and they stepped out onto the balcony.
Shann made a point of not looking directly down and she took hold of the railings to steady herself.
The breeze whipped Shann’s hair across her face, and she brushed it back. The view was spectacular. The lights of the city a couple of miles away hung in the darkness.
“Wonderful,” Shann said and turned to find Angie’s eyes regarding her again, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.
“Wonderful,” she repeated, and Shann felt heat radiate to every corner of her body.
Angie reached out, her fingers running over the back of Shann’s hand where she clutched the railing. The caress was so light, but it seemed to burn where it touched, fired Shann’s blood, and she shivered.
“Are you cold?” Angie asked, concerned.
“No. Not really.” Shann shook her head, and Angie held her gaze for long moments.
“Come on inside. It’s warmer in there.”
They crossed the balcony and stepped back into the unit. Angie closed the sliding glass doors and crossed to the kitchen. The living room was empty apart from a large old couch and a cardboard carton upturned as a coffee table.
“Not much furniture,” Angie said ruefully. “But—” She smiled at Shann and held up her hand. “I come prepared.” She reached across and lifted the lid of the wine cooler, removing a bottle of red.
And Shann’s eyes watched as she reached over, followed the curve of her jean-clad hip, the swell of her rounded buttock, the lines of her body. She shivered again,
knowing it had nothing to do with the room temperature. Her whole body was tuned to the other woman, the nuances of her movements, the sound of her voice. Her body was damp and so ready for Angie’s touch.
Shann took herself impatiently to task. It had been a long time since she’d had a relationship, she acknowledged, but that didn’t mean she had to fall on Angie like some sex-starved teenager. They were both adults, and Angie would expect Shann to act like one. But Shann didn’t feel like a mature, in-command-of-herself adult. She wanted to kiss Angie, make love to her, right here in the middle of this empty, wonderful unit.
“I hope you like red wine?” Angie asked, looking over her shoulder at Shann, and Shann nodded.
“Red’s fine.”
Angie stepped around behind the breakfast bar and opened the wine cooler again.
“Can I help?” Shann moved forward and then stopped, the narrow expanse of the breakfast bar between them.
Angie smiled and shook her head. And that smile almost undid Shann’s hard-fought composure.
“It’s okay. I opened the bottle before I came out and,” she held up two narrow, long-stemmed wineglasses, “I remembered the glasses, too.” She poured some wine into each glass and slid one glass closer to Shann.
Shann’s eyes were locked on Angie’s smile, and she couldn’t look away. Did Angie know the incredible effect of that smile? How could she not know?
Angie raised her eyebrows inquiringly, her smile fading a little when Shann didn’t move to pick up the glass.
“Do you know just how beautiful you are?” Shann asked huskily, and Angie looked a little disconcerted.
“Beautiful? That’s stretching it,” she said, a flush coloring her cheeks.
Holding Angie’s gaze, Shann shook her head. “No. It’s no stretch. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone with eyes that shade of green. I feel like I could drown in them.”
Angie looked down, then back at Shann, and Shann saw the erratic flutter of the pulse at the base of Angie’s throat. That sign of Angie’s arousal only set Shann’s already sensitive nerve endings on another wild erotic surge through her body. She felt fragile and yet capable of anything.
“Oh, dear. No drowning,” Angie said thickly. “I’d have to save you.”
What would Angie say if Shann told her she suspected Angie already had done just that? Her mouth went dry, and as she watched, Angie’s eyes darkened, and Shann was drawn into that same swirling vortex. Her body tensed. She had to stop herself walking around the breakfast bar and making love to Angie right there and right then.
Angie gave a soft laugh that played over Shann like a mellow melody on a steel guitar. “Well, at least I can save you from hunger,” she said and took a paper plate and a molded plastic box out of the cooler. She proceeded to arrange large, juicy, chocolate-dipped strawberries on the plate.
“Wow! Now that’s decadent,” Shann laughed.
Angie chose a strawberry and reached across the breakfast bar to pop it into Shann’s mouth. Then she licked the chocolate from her fingers as Shann swallowed the delicious berry. “Oh, I think tonight’s the right night for decadence,” she said, picking up Shann’s wineglass and holding it out to her.
Heat suffused Shann’s body again, and she thought she was about to combust. She took the glass and their fingers touched for long, electrifying moments.
“A toast.” Angie raised her glass. “To tonight.”
Shann swallowed quickly. “To tonight,” she repeated, and her voice sounded unlike her own.
Tucking the blanket under her arm, Angie picked up the plate of strawberries and walked around the counter. “Shall we sit on the couch?”
Shann followed Angie, waiting while she set the plate of strawberries and her glass of wine on the upturned carton and spread the cotton blanket out over the couch, the bright colors adding a vibrant touch to the room. Shann sank down on the couch before her shaky legs gave way beneath her. Angie didn’t join her but walked over to the balcony doors.
“These are the old curtains. They’ll remove them before they start painting, and I’ll replace them.” She pulled a cord, and the heavy curtains slid over the doors and floor-to-ceiling windows, then she turned to grin at Shann. “In deference to any zealous arresting officers who might be passing by when we may not want them to, and we don’t hear the helicopter,” she added dryly.
“Is this before or after Spiderman trips across the balcony?” Shann remarked with a laugh.
“Very droll.” Angie returned to sit down beside Shann. She picked up her wine and took a sip. She turned to look at Shann, resting her head on her hand, her elbow on the back of the couch.
“You know, I didn’t think tonight would come. It’s been the longest afternoon of my life,” she said softly.
“And mine.” Shann twisted her wineglass in her fingers. “I’ve been totally useless all afternoon.”
“Me, too.” Angie sighed. “I’m sure my staff wondered what was going on with me today. Sitting in the meeting I kept thinking about you, and I’d have to move in my seat. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tuned out. Or so turned on.”
Shann laughed in sympathy. “Liz was giving me some very strange looks at dinner. I didn’t hear a word anyone said, and I’d have to keep reminding myself to eat another mouthful.” Her gaze dropped to the curve of Angie’s lips.
“So,” Angie gave a quick smile. “And now it’s here,” she said, her voice enticingly low.
Chapter Nine
Angie leaned across and put her lips on Shann’s. Touched softly. Drew back. Touched again. Nibbled gently on Shann’s lower lip. Pulled back again.
Pure desire clamored inside Shann and arrowed down to her center. Angie kissed her again, and she murmured against Angie’s lips, deepening the kiss. When they parted they both drew shaky breaths.
Lifting her hand Shann ran her finger lightly along the line of Angie’s jaw, gently touching the exquisite softness of her lips. Angie took Shann’s fingertip into her mouth and sucked sensually. Shann leaned in to kiss her again only drawing back when she spilled some wine on her slacks.
She gave a hiccuping laugh. “Oops! What a waste.” She took a sip and placed her glass carefully on the box beside Angie’s. Then she chose a strawberry and fed it to Angie before reaching over and licking the chocolate from Angie’s lips. “Mmm. Delicious.”
Angie rested her hand on Shann’s thigh, moved her hand upward over Shann’s stomach, paused on her midriff, and Shann groaned. She relaxed back against the couch, pulling Angie with her until Angie was half lying across her.
Shann moved her hands over Angie’s firm jean-clad buttocks, continued upward over her hips, slid beneath her sweatshirt, luxuriating in the feel of her firm skin. She paused and then cupped Angie’s lace-covered breasts in her hands.
Angie made a soft, so aroused sound that reached inside Shann and found an answering fire.
Shann peeled Angie’s sweatshirt up and over her head, discarding it on the floor, before reaching around to unclasp and remove her bra. Angie arched over her and Shann slid down and buried her face between Angie’s firm naked breasts.
Her fingers found the puckering nipples, her thumbs gently caressing until Angie slumped forward, her body melding with Shann’s. Angie drew a deep breath then raised her head, her gaze moving over every facet of Shann’s face before she slowly lowered her head so she could kiss Shann again. The lingering kiss shuddered through Shann and as it grew more urgent, their bodies strained together. The exciting, drugging kisses continued until eventually Angie pushed herself up on her elbows, looking down at Shann through heavy-lidded eyes, the corners of her mouth curved up in a smile of arousal.
“Aren’t you just a little overdressed?” she asked huskily. She sat up, pulling Shann with her. In no time she’d dispensed with Shann’s sweater. She traced the edge of Shann’s lacy bra with her finger, then her lips, before unclasping it and sliding her fingers inside to cup Shann’s breasts.
Shann’s breasts
swelled to fill Angie’s hands. She slipped the bra straps off her arms and dropped the bra on the floor.
Angie’s eyes drank in the mound of Shann’s breasts as she cupped them. Then she lowered her head and took one rosy peak into her mouth, gently sucking, her tongue rasping, and Shann arched toward her, desire exquisitely setting her aflame.
“Angie, I can’t . . . I can’t stand it,” Shann breathed brokenly, her hands twisting the blanket where she clasped it. “I need you . . . I need you to touch me.” Her voice caught on a sob, and Angie slid her hand down and cupped Shann through her slacks.
Shann groaned unevenly, and with shaky hands she fumbled for the press-stud on her pants. The sound of it opening seemed to vibrate around the empty room and their eyes met, held for long moments before Angie gently moved Shann’s fingers aside and slid Shann’s zipper down. She went to peel Shann’s pants down, too, but Shann struggled up, pulling off her boots before helping Angie remove the rest of her clothes.
Shann felt coolness on her heated dampness, and when she saw Angie’s gaze move slowly over her completely naked body, a powerful surge of desire had her falling back against the couch.
Gentle fingers cupped Shann’s mound and settled there. Shann moved, covering Angie’s hand with her own, halting her. She reached up and undid Angie’s jeans, peeling them over her hips. Angie stood up and disposed of her own jeans and undies.
With a shaky smile Shann feasted on the beauty of Angie’s slim body, her full breasts, curving hips, the tantalizing tangle of fair curls between her legs. Shann sat forward and put her face against the soft, damp curls. She looked up at Angie and Angie smiled.
Reaching out, Shann put her finger on the silver charm hanging from Angie’s pierced navel. It was a tiny ax, a labrys. “So that’s what I saw glistening the other night at the club,” she murmured.
“I had it done for my twenty-fifth birthday. I chose the belly button piercing because it was, well, reasonably unintrusive. It was simple to conceal, and I thought if I got sick of it, it would be easier to remove than a tattoo.”
“It’s very erotic,” Shann said thickly, and let her finger slowly circle the tiny charm. She looked up at Angie through narrowed lids, and she heard Angie murmur deep in her throat before she slowly stretched out over Shann until they were thigh to thigh, stomach to stomach, breast to breast. Her nipples grazed against Shann’s and Shann instinctively thrust her pelvis against Angie’s, moving provocatively.