96 Hours

by Georgia Beers

  Erica thought she might explode from the wanting. She couldn’t recall a time when her body had been so alive, so aflame, simply from Abby’s hot mouth on her breasts, bathing her skin and erotically torturing each nipple, gently with her lips and tongue, a bit more roughly with her teeth. None of her past lovers had ever taken such time with, such pleasure in, her body. It was pushing Erica’s arousal to unfamiliar heights and seemed to go on and on, simultaneously sensual and agonizingly teasing, until she finally reached her breaking point and did something she’d never done in bed before.

  With anybody.

  Ever.

  She begged.

  “Please? Abby? Please?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Abby didn’t look up, continued what she was doing, switching mouth for fingers as she remarked, “You have the most amazing breasts I have ever seen.”

  “Abby,” Erica whimpered. “You’re killing me here. Please?”

  “Seriously. They’re the perfect size, not too big, not too small. And your skin is so soft. And your nipples—” She squeezed one between her thumb and forefinger, wrenching a groan from Erica’s throat. “They’re just—”

  Erica grabbed a handful of Abby’s hair and forced her head up as she lifted her own, so they were eye to eye before she growled, “Abby,” through clenched teeth.

  A devilish grin crossed Abby’s face as she quickly slid her hand down the front of Erica’s panties, through the coarse hair and into the slick heat waiting for her there.

  Erica dropped her head back onto the bed as a primal groan bubbled up from her chest. “Oh, yes,” she breathed, easing her grip on Abby’s hair, but not letting go. “Oh, Abby. Thank you.”

  “Um, no. Thank you.”

  As with the first time they’d been together, Abby suddenly found herself wanting to slow down, wanting to transform seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, wanting never to leave the warmth of the bed she was in or the feel of the woman beneath her. Only this time, she understood what it meant. She understood that this was more than just sex, that Erica was more than just another woman she’d bedded, and this time when they kissed, Abby tried to telegraph those thoughts to Erica, tried to tell her that this was an important moment, that she was beginning to understand. She slowed the pace of her fingers, knowing Erica wasn’t going to last much longer but hoping to milk the moment for all she could. She kissed Erica passionately, but with a tenderness she usually avoided. Shifting her body forced Erica to spread her legs more fully and Abby tucked her hips between them, the added pressure from her pelvis against her hand pulling more erotic sounds from Erica’s throat. Abby rocked gently but insistently, feeling blissful pleasure as Erica’s heel dug into the back of her thigh, as Erica’s hips pushed up to meet Abby’s hand. She knew Erica was dangerously close to the edge and was on a direct path to take her over when she was abruptly hit with the inexplicable desire for eye contact. A flash of memory zapped her then, Erica’s voice from four weeks ago echoing in Abby’s head.

  “Keep your eyes open. Look at me.”

  And in that moment, like a light switch had been turned on in a previously dark room, she got it. It was clear. Abby now understood what Erica had been saying then. Unlike the last time they were together, this meeting of bodies was more than the simple act of sex. The last time, it was about feeling life, feeling desire, feeling anything. This time, it was about them, about being together, about understanding—or at least beginning to understand—that there was something deeper between them. Something stronger. Something unnerving. And at that moment, the most important thing in the world to Abby was that Erica know who was with her, who was driving her pleasure—not who was fucking her but who was making love to her.

  “Erica.”

  Erica’s head was thrown back on the pillow, eyes closed, one hand pushing against the headboard, completely absorbed in what her body was feeling.

  Abby slowed her rhythm to a near stop. “Erica.”

  Erica whimpered a protest, blinked rapidly, and focused on Abby, who looked at her tenderly and whispered, “Look at me. Keep your eyes open and look at me. Okay?”

  Erica’s eyes welled as the words registered in her arousal-addled brain, and she laid her palm against Abby’s cheek, rubbed her thumb over Abby’s bottom lip, and gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  They kissed then. Sweetly. Lovingly. And Abby began moving again while Erica looked in her eyes. A slow, easy rocking, a slow, easy stroking, Abby’s gaze riveted on Erica’s as they held tightly to each other, both painfully aware that something important had passed between them.

  They moved in tandem, crested together, and fell over the edge as one.

  Hours later, Abby lay in an exhausted heap on the twisted sheets, sweating, breathless, and feeling like a Gumby doll with limbs of rubber. She lifted her arm from over her eyes and watched Erica walk across the room from the bathroom, carrying a glass of water, in all her naked glory. Abby stopped her with an upheld hand, like a traffic cop.

  “Wait.”

  Erica halted and looked around. “What? What’s the matter?”

  “Just stand there for a second.”

  Erica rolled her eyes and continued on her path. “Here. Drink this before you dehydrate.”

  “You’re gorgeous.”

  “So are you.”

  Abby gulped down half the glass as Erica crawled into bed beside her, offered the remaining water to Erica who polished it off. They rearranged the covers, rearranged their bodies, and settled into a comfortable cocoon made up of each other. It would be a while—an hour or two—before the sun began to crest over the horizon, and they lay together, wrapped in each other, facing the window, Erica’s head tucked under Abby’s chin. Erica yawned and Abby kissed her forehead.

  “Tired?”

  “Exhausted. You wiped me out.”

  “That’s the pot calling the kettle black. I can barely feel my legs.”

  Erica reached down to Abby’s calf and stroked her fingertips up the inside of her leg, feather-lightly, until she hit the apex between Abby’s thighs and made her jump. “Legs are still there,” she informed her.

  “Good to know.” Abby tightened her arm around Erica’s shoulders.

  They lay in the quiet, warm and sated, for long moments. Erica had just begun to doze when Abby spoke, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Erica?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What happens now?”

  There were many ways to interpret that question, many inferences Erica could make about what exactly Abby was asking her. Instead of assuming—which is what she’d done a month ago and what had gotten her painfully slapped down—she decided to play dumb.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean—” Abby shifted slightly beneath her and cleared her throat. “I mean, what do we do next?”

  “Hmm.”

  Abby waited.

  “Well, I have to work in less than four hours, so we could sleep next. That might be good.”

  “Very funny. That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  “Oh. Hmm,” Erica said again.

  Abby turned to squint at her, trying to read Erica’s face in the dark. “Are you making fun of me?”

  Erica chuckled.

  “You are! You’re totally making fun of me. I can’t believe you’re mocking me when I’m trying to be serious here.”

  Erica pushed herself up on her forearms so she could look down and study Abby’s face. “You’re right,” she said and then placed a gentle kiss on Abby’s cheek. “I’m sorry.” She propped her chin in one hand and asked, “What are you being serious about?”

  “About us,” Abby said, pouring obvious frustration into those two words. “I’m being serious about us.”

  “Us, huh?” Erica’s gaze moved to the window as she considered what to say next, in which direction to take the conversation. All the options terrified her.

  Abby altered her position, sitting up in the bed to lean aga
inst the headboard. She reached toward the nightstand, clicked on the lamp there, and they both blinked in the sudden illumination. “I mean, there is an us, right? I feel like—isn’t there an us?”

  Abby’s voice wavered just a touch and Erica felt her insides warm at the sound. She looked up into Abby’s face, into her eyes, and saw nothing but trust and sincerity—both the things she’d hoped to see four weeks earlier. She hadn’t expected them to scare her then, but they did now, so she tossed the ball back into Abby’s court.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “Is there?”

  Abby sifted Erica’s hair through her fingers, touched her face. “Yeah. I think there is.”

  Erica rolled onto her back so her head was in Abby’s lap. She took Abby’s hand in both her own and toyed with it as she spoke, entwining and then untwining their fingers. “Why?”

  Abby blinked at her. “Why?”

  “Yeah. Why now? Why is there an us now but there wasn’t an us in Gander?” Erica’s voice held no accusation, no anger, merely curiosity, and Abby nodded. She understood what was going on; Erica was a scientist, after all. A scientist who liked—no, she needed—concrete answers.

  “You said it yourself many times downstairs,” Abby began, speaking slowly, trying the words on for size as she spoke them, thinking out loud. “That situation, that place, those people changed us. Probably all of us. I just didn’t know it at the time, but I think you did.”

  “Changed you how?”

  Smiling down into Erica’s face, brushing her hair off her forehead, Abby admired her tenacity. She’s going to make me say it. She wants me to say it all. Good for her. “I believe in traveling. I believe in seeing as much of the world as I can. That hasn’t changed. But—” She tilted her head back as if the words for which she searched might be found on the ceiling. “My priorities have. The things that are important to me have shifted.”

  “What used to be first?”

  “Being happy and having fun. Not allowing myself to be tied down.”

  “And what’s first now?”

  “My family and friends.” She looked down into Erica’s eyes. “The people I care about.”

  Erica nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied.

  “What about you?” Abby asked, turning the tables, which was only fair. “Have your priorities shifted, too?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “What used to be first?”

  Erica gave a snort. “Me. Always me.”

  “And now?”

  “Not me.” She laughed, then continued. “Others. People. Animals. The less fortunate. The ones I can help. My family.” She mirrored Abby, looked her in the eye. “The people who matter to me.”

  Abby leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Erica’s mouth. When she sat back up, she said softly, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but—” She swallowed audibly. “I think we could have something here. You and me. Something good.”

  If Erica had learned anything about Abby in the short time they’d known each other, it was that saying something with such implications about the future was extremely hard for her, was extremely rare for her. Bringing Abby’s hand to her lips, she kissed the tip of each finger before looking back up at her and asking, “So? What do we do about it?”

  June 14, 2002

  Friday

  Chapter 20

  “Are you sure I look all right?” Corinne MacDougal asked.

  “Mom, you look great,” Kate MacDougal replied from the driver’s seat of her mother’s car, shaking her head. “Just like you did the last fourteen times you asked me.”

  Despite her daughter’s reassurances, Corinne pulled the visor down and peered critically into the tiny mirror.

  Kate smothered an amused grin. Her mother was never this self-conscious. Never. Sure, she liked to look nice, but she never got crazy. As she liked to say, “I’ve been married to your father for thirty years. Who’ve I got to impress?” But Kate watched out of the corner of her eye as her mother fussed with her hair, smoothed her eyebrows, and then applied more lipstick.

  “Mom,” she said, a bit more forcefully. When Corinne looked at her, Kate smiled widely. “You look great. I promise.”

  Corinne patted her daughter’s arm. “Thanks, honey. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

  Kate knew. She’d been on the other side of the country, but she’d heard all about that incredible week.

  It had been nine months and now Kate’s mother was about to have dinner with the four Plane People she called her own. Corinne wasn’t the only one with a case of the nerves; Kate just hid it better. She’d heard endless stories about Brian-this and Erica-that and Michael-said-this and Abby-helped-with-that. Her parents’ voices were uncharacteristically animated for weeks after all the unexpected guests had left, and they still were on occasion. Kate was anxious to meet this foursome. She felt like she already knew them. She knew she’d thrown a wrench in her mother’s gears when she decided to come home to meet them; if she hadn’t, Corinne probably would have wanted to put them all up in the house again. Warmth flooded her as she realized, not for the first time, what a terrific grandmother her mom was going to make one day.

  The afternoon was beautiful, sunny, and mild, with a gentle breeze blowing off the water. Kate loved Vancouver, loved the hustle and bustle of it, and was very happy there, but there was something calming about being back home in the little town of Gander. Yes, she had moved to the big city, but not because she didn’t love the quiet country. Truth was, she missed it much more than she’d expected to when she left in the first place. A deep breath of fresh Gander air filled her heart just as surely as it filled her lungs.

  The parking lot of the Hotel Gander was almost full to capacity, something that rarely happened. But it was a special weekend; the Plane People had many different chat groups and websites online and some of them had planned a big get-together—the first of what they hoped would turn out to be an annual event. Many people had come for visits on their own before now, but this was a large undertaking. Passengers from four different flights had made arrangements to meet, have an outdoor gathering, contact their hosts or the locals they’d met during their unexpected stop here. The Hotel Gander seemed to have the majority of the attendees. Plus, there was Tomcats Bar and Grill downstairs where everybody could mingle. With no idea of how many people planned to show up, Kate circled until she found a spot, then slid the car into Park.

  “Dad said he’d meet us inside as soon as he could,” she said, turning to her mother. Corinne’s uncharacteristic quiet was a clue to how edgy she was. “You ready?”

  Inside was buzzing. People of every size, shape, color, and nationality mingled, drank, hugged, and laughed. Glasses clinked. Slaps on the back reverberated through the spacious room. Every so often, a squeal of delight pierced the air and somebody fell into somebody else’s arms. It was like a family reunion—where the family consisted of a couple hundred people.

  Corinne’s face went from uncertain to sunny as she looked around, recognizing faces she’d held near and dear for the past ten months. Before she could take in more, two large hands slipped around from behind her and covered her eyes.

  “You look even more beautiful than I remember,” a low, male voice said in her ear.

  Corinne laughed and slapped at the body in back of her. When he let go, she turned around and her eyes filled with tears. “Brian.”

  “Hello, Gorgeous.”

  They hugged tightly and Kate felt a rush of warmth at the gentleness with which Brian held her mother. When they parted, he turned his soft green eyes in her direction and held out his hand.

  “You must be Kate,” he said, his smile showing even, white teeth.

  “I am,” she said as she took his outstretched hand and he clasped hers with both of his.

  His sandy hair was neat. He was clean-shaven and he looked her in the eye as he said, “I see your mother passed on her beauty to her daughter.” Corny, but in a charming way, she thought, and made a mental not
e to berate her mother for not warning her about this one. His rugged cuteness, his enticing voice—her stomach flip-flopped.

  “I can’t believe how many people are here,” Corinne said, looking around in amazement.

  “It’s pretty incredible,” Brian said with a nod. “Just goes to show how much this place means to us. Where’s Tim?”

  “He’ll be here soon. Have you seen the others yet?”

  She didn’t have to elaborate for Brian to know who she meant. “Abby should be down any minute. Erica’s flight was late.” He looked around, craned his neck. “Michael’s got our table over that way—there he is.” He waved an arm above his head and in less than thirty seconds, Corinne was enveloped in yet another heartfelt hug.

  “My lord, it’s good to see you,” Michael said as he held Corinne at arms’ length. Stepping aside, he ushered a small slip of a woman into the circle. “Corinne MacDougal, this is my wife, Gwen.”

  Gwen took Corinne’s hand in hers. “How do you do? I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, a sparkle in her brown eyes. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  They fell into an easy group conversation, asking for updates, talking about family. The internet had allowed them to keep up at least a little bit with one another’s lives. Sometimes, time got away from them and too many weeks went by between contacts, but they’d done their best to make the effort.

  As they moved across the room toward their table, Corinne reflected on what she knew about the current lives of each of them. Brian had settled into bachelorhood fairly well. He didn’t like it; he was a man who preferred to be married, but he sounded much better over the past few months—about dating, about love, about life in general—than he had when he’d been in Gander last year. She watched out of the corner of her eye and smothered a satisfied grin, knowing very well the expression that graced her daughter’s face as she and Brian chatted. Oh, yes, this is going to be interesting. She knew Michael and Gwen had celebrated their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a vacation in Paris, something they’d been talking about for years but had never gotten around to. She knew Erica had moved to a different department within her company, heading up their division dealing with charity and donations and was now much happier in this new capacity (a revelation that both stunned Corinne and made her inexplicably proud of the girl). She’d also decided to get herself a cat, which she adopted from a local shelter, and she always asked Corinne about Sammy. Corinne tried to send pictures as often as she could. Lastly, she knew Abby’d had a job interview recently, but she hadn’t given a lot of details because, as she’d told Corinne, she didn’t want to jinx it. She also knew Abby was dating somebody new, but got no details there either and for the same reason. While Corinne was happy for Abby simply because she sounded happy (if one could actually sound happy via e-mail), she was the slightest bit disappointed. Tim often said she was a hopeless romantic, but Corinne was sure she had seen something spark between Abby and Erica and she had hoped the two of them would find each other. But Abby was flighty and Erica was stoic and maybe if they’d had more than four days together, things would have been different.