French Kissing: Season One

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French Kissing: Season One Page 19

by Harper Bliss


  The woman’s arms curled around her, one hand around her waist, the other cupping a breast, then pinching a nipple. Steph’s moan coincided with one of the masturbating woman’s groans and, together, they echoed back and forth in the room, amplifying the pleasure being had in it.

  A finger brushed over her clit, basically ignoring it, and ducked straight for her pussy. Steph spread her legs and leaned into the body pressed against her back. A film of sweat formed between their skin and Steph’s knees buckled when a finger dipped inside.

  The woman on the bench opened her eyes and locked gazes with Steph and although they were a few feet away from each other, it felt as if Steph was being caressed by two women.

  “Harder,” Steph hissed, because she hadn’t come here for softness or foreplay—or to stay for hours. The fingers burrowed deeper inside of her and the panting in her ear grew quicker, more ragged.

  Steph focused her glance on the fingers of the woman pleasuring herself, on the increased speed of them now that she was being watched so intently, on the agility of the hand in front of her and the way its movements seemed mimicked between her own legs.

  When she came it was quick and empty and soulless—exactly how she wanted it. Without casting another glance at the other two women, Steph picked up her towel from the floor and hurried towards the changing rooms. She quickly rinsed off under a scalding hot shower and pushed every thought from her brain until she stood outside, in the Paris dusk.

  Her phone beeped in her pocket. There was no doubt in her mind who the message was from.

  My next meeting is in one hour. Any chance of meeting me at le PB between now and ten minutes?

  Summoned. Again. I’ll be there, Steph typed and headed to the main road to find a taxi, all she’d just done erased from her soul.

  NADIA

  The woman sitting across from Nadia was a million times more beautiful than the photocopied picture she’d seen of her, and much more charming than Nadia had imagined as well—but then again, all she really knew about her, apart from her impressive professional credentials, was that she’d broken Margot’s heart. She oozed an effortless sort of charisma that enhanced the allure of the freckles around her nose instead of taking away from it, and the sparkle glinting in her eyes didn’t really invite the stern line of questioning Nadia had wanted to use on her.

  Instead, in a sickly sweet voice, she heard herself ask, “Why did you come back to France, Doctor Larue?”

  “It eats away at your soul,” Inez said, her sea blue eyes sincere, “even though we’re supposed to be trained to block out the misery.” She shook her head. “I’m not proud of it, but I simply couldn’t stand it anymore. Sleepless nights, constant worry about patients… in the end, I had to ask myself if me being there was still a good thing for anyone involved.” When she sighed, Nadia could sense how torn up about it she was. “After ten months in Rwanda I transferred to India, to Mumbai, to see if moving to a different country would re-energise me. It only took me a month to come to the final conclusion that I’m not cut out for the work that’s done in these areas.” She looked away briefly. “I see it as a great personal failure on my part.” She tilted her head sideways a bit. “But hey, here I am.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking.” Nadia shuffled in her seat, but she owed Margot this question. “Why did you choose Saint-Vincent?”

  “Purely selfish reasons, I guess.” She twirled a strand of curly ginger hair around a finger. “I know people here and I need familiar faces. After being away, in dire circumstances like that, I just couldn’t imagine going through a whole process of—”

  Semi-honesty was better than nothing. Nadia felt the protective side of her take the upper hand, now that she was starting to get used to Inez’ dazzle. “I know about your history with Doctor de Hay. I hope this is not going to be a problem.” Margot would give her the silent treatment for at least a week if she had any idea Nadia had just said this.

  “Of course not.” Inez blinked three times in rapid succession. “It’s not as if we parted on such bad terms.”

  Nadia needed her best pokerface to counter that statement. “Well then.” Not the best liar by nature—although circumstance had sort of made her one of late—Nadia had trouble keeping her voice level. “Welcome to Saint-Vincent.” She stood up and extended her hand. Inez followed suit.

  “If you were to need me earlier, I am free to start next week.” Inez’ hand met hers. “I just need—want to work.”

  Nadia hoped Inez wouldn’t be taking up this request with her uncle who was on the board. She figured Inez would be trouble enough and the later she started, the better. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but it’s best to keep things as they are.” Nadia meant it in more ways than one.

  Inez nodded, her arm falling to her side. “Say hello to Margot for me, will you please?” She reached for her purse on the floor. “Can’t wait to see her again.”

  Nadia watched her exit, unable to shake the impression that Doctor Larue wasn’t telling her everything. Obviously, she had a heartfelt story at the ready explaining her return, and Nadia didn’t doubt its sincerity as much as its completeness. Something else was going on. Margot had spoken of another doctor Inez had met in Africa, and Nadia couldn’t shake the feeling that, perhaps, she could also have played a part in Inez’ transfer to India and her subsequent return to France.

  Then there was that nagging feeling in her gut making her aware that she was watching a train wreck waiting to happen, in slow-motion, totally unable to change the train’s course—or the people standing in its way.

  There was one thing in her life she could do something about, although not very easily, but at least something could be done. She sat down, focused her eyes on her computer screen, opened an e-mail to Juliette, and started typing.

  JULIETTE

  With a massive headache pulsing in her temples, Juliette read Nadia’s e-mail. It didn’t contain any new information. Nadia had still cheated. Maybe there were mitigating circumstances, but that didn’t mean Juliette could just turn it into something trivial, something that had happened and should now be overlooked because of the bigger picture. What would actually help was the name of the woman Nadia had slept with, so Juliette could google her and see for herself who’d gotten her hands on her partner. What kind of doctor was that anyway? The kind that hit on unavailable women. Or perhaps Nadia hadn’t made clear that she was in a long-term relationship. Maybe she had even instigated it.

  For every question that burned in her mind, her skull seemed to contract and expand with another throb of pain. One bottle of wine had turned into two. Claire had left after the first one. She and Sybille, who looked as if she’d gone for an energising run this morning, a double espresso at the ready when Juliette had arrived, had easily polished off the second bottle. It didn’t feel so easy now.

  Juliette clicked reply and let her fingers hover over the keyboard for an instant.

  It’s about time you gave me details instead of apologies. I want to know everything. Who was she? How did it happen?

  Juliette wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but if she didn’t find out, she’d always be wondering. Maybe if she knew what she was up against—and perhaps if she could, hopefully, brush the other woman off as someone to compete with easily—she could eventually see it for what it was. Because it was easy for Claire to say that she should give Nadia a break, even after what she had done, but she didn’t realise how utterly spoiled everything about their relationship now felt. How impure and soiled, spat upon by a stranger.

  The comfort Juliette had found in Nadia’s body the past weeks, the hope the warm glow of her skin against hers had given her, had all but evaporated because that same body had been touched so intimately by someone else. At least, for a short amount of time, they’d had that intimacy again—Nadia had allowed them to have it despite having done what she’d done—and now even that, even that glimmer of hope, had turned into a lie.

  Juliette hit ‘send’
and rubbed her fingers along her forehead. She had back-to-back meetings after lunch. After longingly eyeing the sofa she never used in the far corner of her office for a few minutes, she stood up, and opened the door.

  “No interruptions in the next hour, Sybille.” How could she look so fresh? The moment they’d said their goodbyes the night before sprang to mind again. Sybille pecking her hesitantly on the cheek, lingering, imprinting her scent onto Juliette’s nostrils. The warmth of her body and how Juliette had just wanted to hug her, just because it was another body close to hers—just for comfort before going home alone to an empty apartment. “Wake me if I’m not up in an hour.”

  Juliette no longer had the luxury of youth that allowed for a pain-free day after a bender. She shut the door, sauntered to the leather sofa, which didn’t look that comfortable for a nap, and lay down, her arms wrapped around herself, closing her eyes against the drilling in her head.

  * * *

  “Juliette… Juliette.” Still half-asleep, Juliette felt warm fingers against her cheek, stroking gently, lovingly, and in that short stretch of time before fully waking—that instant in which reality hadn’t come back fully yet—she believed it was Nadia. “Wake up.”

  When she opened her eyes, she stared into Sybille’s face, her lips curved into the kindest smile.

  “Sorry,” Sybille said, retracting her fingers, “I didn’t want to scare you.”

  “That’s all right.” Juliette stared into Sybille’s eyes, they were the same colour but a shade lighter than Nadia’s. “What time is it?”

  “Lunch time.” Sybille pointed at a paper bag on the coffee table next to the sofa. “I got you a baguette with brie from Chez Patrick.”

  The warmth that had spread from Sybille’s fingers onto Juliette’s cheek didn’t seem to leave her. It lingered even longer when Juliette looked into Sybille’s eyes again. A thought crossed her mind, briefly, but Juliette pushed it away instantly.

  “You’re a life saver.” She sat up and straightened her blouse. “Thanks,” she said, avoiding Sybille’s glance.

  CLAIRE

  Claire wondered if she’d gone completely crazy. She stood outside the hospital, torn between going in and walking away. It’s not because you surprise her that you have to give it to her. She took a step closer and the automatic doors opened. Making her way through the wide hallway, she breathed deeply to calm her nerves. It was too soon. What the hell was she doing? Claire stopped in her tracks and turned around, quickening her pace.

  “Claire?” Margot’s voice sounded surprised, but still had an instantly calming effect on her. “Do you have an emergency?”

  Claire spun on her heels and looked into Margot’s face, eyes brimming with happiness. “I think it’s called phantom pain.” She rubbed her fingers over her wrists. “I seem to be missing something around here.”

  “Come with me.” Margot grabbed her by the wrist. “I can help.”

  Claire’s heart beat in her throat and she felt her panties drench as Margot dragged her along, their feet quick on the linoleum floor, sounding, Claire imagined, as they would if this were a real emergency.

  Margot shoved open a door to what seemed to be a supply room, not much bigger than a closet. She pushed Claire’s back against the door and pressed a kiss on her lips. “That should help with the pain.”

  “It’s a start,” Claire said, grinning from ear to ear.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Margot’s body was still pressed against hers, her nipples poking easily through the fabric of her scrubs.

  “Just wondering what you were doing after work.”

  “You could have called.”

  “True,” Claire brought her lips to Margot’s neck. “But then I wouldn’t have been able to do this.” She sank her teeth into the sensitive skin just above Margot’s collarbone.

  “Against hospital regulations,” Margot said, with a chuckle. “Were you on your way out?”

  “Yes, I mean no.” The nerves that had momentarily left her, hit Claire with full force again, the object she had come to hand over seemingly burning a hole in her blazer pocket.

  “What?” Margot regarded her with narrowed eyelids, as if seeing right through her.

  “Nothing,” Claire tried, leaning forward to nip at Margot’s skin again.

  “You can’t fool me, I’m a doctor,” Margot sighed into her ear, before pulling away and locking her gaze on Claire’s. “Tell me.”

  “Erm, I don’t mean to go all lesbian on you, but what with the situation with Nadia and her staying with you and, well, we’re seeing each other and, um, well…” What a disaster.

  Margot’s smile transformed into a skeptical, lopsided grin. “Yes?”

  Claire dug her hand into her blazer pocket and presented Margot with a spare key to her front door.

  Margot’s eyes went wide, her lips opening up, perhaps to speak. If they were, nothing came out.

  Claire shook her head. “I know it’s too soon, but I just want you to have a place to go to, you know, after a night shift, if you’d feel like coming over, I thought it would be easier…” She was rambling like a maniac again.

  “Is this because of what I told you yesterday? About Inez?”

  “What? No, no, of course not,” Claire lied. After she’d left Juliette and Sybille with another bottle of wine last night—perhaps not the best of decisions either—she’d gone home and turned to Google.

  It wasn’t hard to find a doctor named Inez who’d volunteered with MSF and who was also a lesbian who’d lived in Paris before. The internet seemed to be filled to the brim with model-like pictures of this highly evolved human specimen displaying both incredible looks, an amazing brain and oodles of compassion for her fellow man. How could Claire, when it came down to it, possibly rival that?

  “You’re right, though. It is too soon.” Margot put some distance between them, taking a step back. “You must know how I feel about you, Claire, and it’s quite obvious how you feel about me. Can’t we just let this take its natural course?”

  With the air that Claire let escape through her nose, tension fled her body, leaving her feeling as deflated as when she’d first laid eyes on a picture of Inez Larue. “I’m sorry. I knew it was a mistake, which is why I was leaving without giving it to you.”

  “Without saying hello?” The stern expression on Margot’s face broke into something kinder. “That’s not very nice, is it?”

  “You do know this is all your fault, right?” Claire grabbed a handful of fabric of Margot’s scrubs and yanked her near. “You drive me crazy.” She looked into her eyes. “You literally make me lose my mind.”

  “Shall I take you to the psychiatric ward? They can have a look at you.”

  The beeper clipped to the waistband of Margot’s trousers started making noise just as her lips met Claire’s. Claire felt Margot’s muscles tense against her and she wondered what it was like to always have to be so alert, always ready, always prepared for the worst.

  “I have to go.” Margot quickly pecked her on the cheek. “I’ll come by tonight after my shift.” She drew her lips into that smirk again. “I’ll ring the bell.”

  Claire put the key back in her pocket and made her way out of the hospital.

  STEPH

  Steph sat waiting for Dominique, who had, obviously falsely, claimed to not have any time to spare for Steph this week. Steph was happy to see her, but she wasn’t used to being at someone’s beck and call like that. She had her own life and if Dominique kept springing unexpected ‘appointments’ on her the way she’d been doing all week, there wouldn’t be much left of it.

  As soon as Steph let her in, Dominique let her briefcase fall to the floor and lunged for Steph.

  “This is becoming a problem,” she hissed into Steph’s ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I think it’s affecting my work.”

  “I feel so sorry for your lovely constituents. All, without a doubt, salt of the earth people with their heart in the right place.”<
br />
  Dominique had just left a bite mark in the flesh of Steph’s neck, but retreated quickly. “Are you confusing me with someone else or are you just picking a fight?” She regarded Steph with that piercing green-eyed stare that lit a fire underneath her skin.

  “I appreciate you stood up for me with my bosses, as well as, huh, the sentiment behind it, but you can’t just drop in or summon me to your office—or ask me to hide in your bathroom, for that matter—when it suits you. I don’t live like that.” Steph wondered if the reason why these words were coming out of her mouth had as much to do with how she felt inside as with how she expected Dominique would react—like the politician she was, always attacking and never backing down.

  “Well.” Dominique took another step back. “If you want to talk, you should just say so.” She sat down in Steph’s sofa. “Come on.” She patted the seat, beckoning Steph over, like a naughty child whose punishment needed to be discussed. This appalled Steph as much as it aroused her.

  She stayed standing, leaning against the bookshelf Dominique had pushed her up against.

  “I don’t want to have a big discussion about where this is going and blah blah blah. I know what this is, and its limits, but—”

  “What do you want from me, Stéphanie?” It also simultaneously made Steph’s blood boil with rage and sizzle with want when Dominique used her full name. Dominique gazed into her eyes, her glance saying it all.

  “Look…” Steph was backing down already and it was this power, this supreme, unflinching control that Dominique seemed to exert over her, that made her surrender. Steph’s natural instinct was to fight it, but her mind was already starting to wander to the moment when Dominique would slip her fingers inside, that exact same look in her eyes.

 

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