French Kissing: Season One

by Harper Bliss

  “Thanks,” Juliette mumbled. She wondered what would happen to the flat if she and Nadia were to actually separate. They’d probably sell it, neither one of them wanting to be confronted by the memories it harboured. The mere notion sent a chill up Juliette’s spine.

  Juliette drank some more because, all things considered, this was not a situation she wanted to be in—downing wine that she’d saved for a special occasion with her assistant, instead of a loved one. The whole situation had a distinct air of inadequacy, exactly how Juliette herself felt as well.

  Before she knew it, they’d finished most of the bottle, the pair of them slumped against the backrest of the sofa. No matter how fuzzy her brain had become, Juliette still realised that the only way out of this desperate phase her life had entered, was for her to be forgiving, to be lenient and understanding.

  “She cheated on me,” Juliette blurted out, staring at the ceiling. “Nadia. That’s why she’s not here. Why I’m not in Barcelona with her. Why everything is such a mess.” She’d crossed the line she’d vowed not to cross the second she’d invited Sybille to her flat, and figured that this revelation wouldn’t make much difference to her moral centre anymore.

  “I thought as much.”

  Juliette didn’t have the energy left to ask why Sybille’s thoughts had ventured in that direction. She sighed, feeling tears well up in the back of her throat, when, suddenly, she felt a hand against hers. It wasn’t an accident, because the hand grew more confident, squeezing her fingers, then slipping underneath and cradling them in its palm.

  Instead of retracting her hand, Juliette sat up and faced Sybille, who’d brought their hands to her mouth and planted a kiss on one of Juliette’s knuckles. Then another, until she sucked Juliette’s index finger into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.

  Perhaps, if Sybille hadn’t had that unflinching, promising stare, Juliette would have stopped her. Maybe if her demeanour hadn’t promised a certain behaviour in bed, Juliette would have stood a chance.

  “What do you want to do to me?” Juliette tested her.

  Sybille let Juliette’s finger slip from her lips and fixed her dark brown eyes on her. “Fuck you,” Sybille said, with a hiss Juliette couldn’t possibly resist. And then she surrendered.

  She let Sybille push her down into the sofa, strip her of her jeans and t-shirt, until she lay staring up at her half-naked, head spinning, judgement gone.

  “I need you to talk to me,” Juliette said. “I need you to say it.”

  She watched Sybille hoist her tank top over her head, revealing a body that was twenty years younger than her own, with supple, unblemished skin, and toned muscles flexing underneath.

  Sybille didn’t say anything, probably the arousal getting the best of her, but Juliette needed something more than a twenty-something undressing in front of her; she always had. Nadia had understood that from the first time they’d met. But this wasn’t Nadia. Sybille wasn’t a stranger, but she couldn’t know what made Juliette tick, not the way Nadia did after ten years together.

  Nadia could make her wet with one killer glance. One that said that she saw through Juliette and all her antics. One that stripped her bare without Nadia even touching her.

  “Say it,” Juliette tried again, as Sybille poured her body over hers, her nipples poking hard through the fabric of her bra.

  But, it seemed that, as soon as Juliette had surrendered, there was nothing left of Sybille’s bravado. She didn’t even come close to a light version of Nadia.

  “I want you,” Sybille said. “I’ve wanted you for so long.” Her breath was hot on the skin of Juliette’s neck and she was panting as though Juliette’s hand had already disappeared into her panties, while all they were doing was lying on top of each other half-naked.

  If this was going to happen, Juliette would have to lower her expectations, perhaps even take control herself.

  “Come on,” she whispered in Sybille’s ear. “Let’s go into the bedroom.”

  “Okay,” Sybille groaned, and slipped off of her.

  Juliette led the way, pulling Sybille behind her by the wrist. Juliette stepped out of her knickers before pushing Sybille down onto the mattress and getting rid of her shorts and undies as well.

  Eager—and not getting it at all—Sybille yanked Juliette down on top of her, positioning their faces in front of each other.

  “I’m going to show you and then I need you to do the same to me,” Juliette said while staring deep into Sybille eyes, hoping this would help Sybille get it.

  “I’ve done this before, boss,” Sybille smirked, and then Juliette knew it was a lost cause.

  Juliette had two options: give Sybille the one-night-stand with her boss she wanted, or nip this frolicking session that wasn’t going anywhere for her in the bud. It could just be tenderness, a warm body against hers, someone adoring her—all things she’d been missing of late. And Sybille wasn’t Nadia. Wasn’t that, also, an important point?

  “What’s wrong?” Sybille asked, her face suddenly so vulnerable, the desire inside of her laid bare in her eyes.

  To be wanted like this. Juliette surrendered again. “Nothing.” She kissed Sybille, their lips parting, and pressed her pussy against Sybille’s thigh.

  CLAIRE

  Claire had spent the better part of her day off chained to her bed, not something she’d ever expected that piece of furniture to be used for when she had purchased it years ago. Now, she lay with her head on Margot’s chest, listening to the pitter-patter of her heart.

  “My parents have been asking about you,” Margot said, out of the blue.

  “Your parents?” Claire talked to her own parents so infrequently, she figured Margot would barely be a blip on their radar.

  “We’re very close.”

  “Don’t tell me you and your mum kickbox together,” Claire joked. Her head bopped up and down with Margot’s chuckle.

  “I’m serious. We’re very open about everything in my family. They’ll want to meet you sooner rather than later.” Margot’s hand trailed along Claire’s spine.

  “Do they know you tie me up?” Claire was flattered that Margot would already want to introduce her to her parents, but, even by lesbian standards, it was a bit quick.

  “We do have the common decency to not talk about what goes on in the bedroom.” Claire couldn’t see Margot’s face, but her voice sounded free of irony.

  Claire pushed herself up from her comfortable spot on Margot’s chest to look her in the eyes. “You’re serious,” she said, when she saw the grave expression on Margot’s face.

  “I know it’s quick, but they know how much I suffered after Inez, and I guess I just want to show them that they can stop worrying now.”

  “What do you propose?” Claire hadn’t done the meet-the-parents thing in years.

  “Dinner at their place. Maybe next weekend?”

  “Okay, but promise me one thing.” Claire pressed her nose against Margot’s neck. “When we’re there, the four of us all sitting cosily around the dinner table, when your phone or beeper goes off, you won’t answer and dash off.”

  “What? You can’t handle some conversation with two very friendly old-age pensioners?” With that, as if to prove Claire’s point, Margot’s phone beeped.

  “For crying out loud.” Claire let her head crash on Margot’s shoulder. “I dare you to ignore it.”

  “I’m not on call. It’s probably nothing.” Margot was already reaching for the device on the bedside table—she could never keep it more than a few feet away from her. She looked at Claire for an instant. “I’m sorry. You must understand that in my line of work—”

  Claire shook her head. “It’s fine.” She couldn’t help a smile from forming on her lips. “Of course I understand.” She watched Margot as she grabbed her phone and read the message, her face drawing into a worried expression for a fraction of a second.

  “What is it?” Claire asked. “Do you have to go?”

  “No, it’
s nothing.” Margot placed the phone on the nightstand again.

  “Didn’t look like nothing to me,” Claire teased.

  “It was Inez. She starts tomorrow. She says she’s ‘looking forward to working with me’.”

  “Oh.” Claire sat up and intertwined her fingers with Margot’s. “That must be hard. You haven’t seen her in how long?” She tried to let the supportive girlfriend get the upper hand over the slightly jealous one.

  “I saw her last week at the hospital. Briefly. She was—”

  “You saw her?” Jealousy was about to win. “You didn’t say.” Claire dropped Margot’s hand from hers.

  “It was just for a minute.” Margot reached for Claire’s hand again. “I told you. For me, when it’s over, it’s really over. You can trust me.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you saw her?” Claire couldn’t help herself. “I thought you were all about openness, you know, raised that way and everything.”

  “I didn’t think it was important enough to mention.” Margot gazed into her eyes. “Are we all right?”

  “Yes, of course we are,” Claire said, but wasn’t entirely sure of her statement, not because of her own feelings towards Margot, which were more than clear enough, but because of the paranoia cropping up in her mind.

  “Good.” Margot brought Claire’s hand to her mouth and pressed a kiss on her palm. “Because there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  “I do trust you, you know.” Claire had to admit to herself that she hadn’t met anyone as trustworthy as Margot in a long time, but she had yet to be introduced to Inez and she couldn’t be sure about her motives and aspirations.

  NADIA

  Nadia booked herself on an earlier flight back to Paris. She’d had enough of her solo Barcelona experience. All she wanted was to go home—not to her temporary guest room at Margot’s, but to her and Juliette’s home. Maybe she believed it because she desperately wanted to, but she was convinced that beneath the person Juliette had become—Nadia had let her become—the woman she had met ten years ago was in hiding, waiting for her moment to shine again.

  Only now, after re-visiting a small but vital piece of their past, did Nadia fully understand how much her sleeping with another woman had hurt Juliette—despite the reasons why and all the other repercussions.

  Nadia had claimed another as her own, thus discarding Juliette completely because the one thing that they’d always shared, no matter what, was that connection, that deep understanding of one another, in the bedroom.

  Juliette had tried to tell her several times and Nadia had been the one who had refused to listen. She’d told her when she was practically begging her to move back in—“This is who we are, babe,” she had said—and she’d told her again after Nadia had confessed to her dalliance with the consultant. Because in their relationship, in matters like this, Nadia was in charge. And when Nadia cheated, she might as well have said that it was all over. Not worth even bothering anymore. Dead.

  Nadia had been too angry with Juliette to see. This new version of Juliette who, with the passing of time and the negligence that comes with taking each other for granted for too long, had morphed into someone Nadia hadn’t particularly liked anymore.

  Nadia had let her slip. She’d disturbed the delicate balance of their relationship, unknowingly assuming that years spent together equalled change. Some things would never change, like Juliette’s need for her. Nadia couldn’t possibly hold that against her, despite having done so for the past year. It was the main reason why they were together, the thing that linked them more than any other.

  Nadia knew this now and, in that respect, despite having been incredibly lonely, this trip had served a purpose. She was going to get her woman back.

  When the flight attendant offered her a glass of champagne, Nadia refused, wanting to keep a clear head. When she landed in Paris, four hours earlier than the flight Juliette had booked for the two of them, she inhaled the summer air, confident, for the first time in weeks, that with patience and the acceptance of some hard truths, she could convince Juliette to give their relationship the clean slate it needed—and deserved.

  * * *

  It still felt strange to ring the bell to the apartment that half of her own money had bought, but Nadia could hardly use her key and walk in as if everything was normal. She didn’t even know if Juliette was home, but she heard stumbling noises on the other side of the door soon enough after the bell had chimed. It took a while before Juliette opened the door to a crack. She looked as if she’d quickly thrown on some clothes, as if she’d been sleeping.

  “Hey,” Nadia said. “Can we talk?”

  “Erm, now?” Juliette said, hesitantly, checking her wrist for a watch that wasn’t there.

  Nadia arched up her eyebrows. She hadn’t really expected to be the most welcome of guests, but at least to be invited into her own home for a few minutes. “Is this a bad time? Were you asleep?”

  “Yeah. Sort of,” Juliette mumbled, her cheeks as flushed as Nadia had ever seen them.

  “Are you all right?” Nadia took a step forward. “Can I just come in for a brief moment? I won’t take up too much of your time, I promise, but I really need to say this.” She heard noises coming from behind Juliette’s back.

  “Now really is not a good time,” Juliette tried.

  “Do you have company?” Nadia looked Juliette over. She didn’t appear dressed to have guests in the flat. Unless… Nadia took another step closer and, despite Juliette trying to hold it shut as much as possible, pushed the door open.

  She stood face to face with Sybille, half-dressed in a bra and a pair of khaki shorts. Nadia wasn’t sure if she felt anything at all. Or maybe it was just shock. She turned back to Juliette.

  “In our home?” She looked away and craned her head to scan the hallway for more evidence. “In our own bed?” She glanced at Sybille, who had picked up a top from the living room floor and slipped it over her head. “With your secretary?”

  All the hope that had been building inside Nadia since her epiphany in Barcelona, the speech she had prepared in her head during the flight, and her clearly wrongly drawn conclusion that Juliette needed her, transformed into a mute rage that only allowed her to storm out and slam the door behind her, the image of Juliette’s perplexed face burned into her brain.

  Her suitcase waited for her outside and Nadia grabbed it while stabbing the elevator button furiously. She couldn’t get away from their home—now forever tainted—fast enough.

  Maybe there really was nothing left to fight for, after all.

  EPISODE FOUR

  MARGOT

  Margot had truly believed she’d been honest about her feelings for Inez belonging to the past, but now that she stood face-to-face with her for the first time in a year for more than a brief minute, she wasn’t so sure. She quickly recovered and pushed away the uninvited, random memories that popped up in her brain. If they were going to work together, she’d need to get better at that.

  Besides, she was in love with Claire.

  “Can we talk some time today?” Inez asked. “Just for a few minutes. To clear the air.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, there’s no air to clear.” Did Inez really think she could dash in here with her charm and pretend she never left?

  “Come on, Go-Go.” There used to be a time when these words combined with a lop-sided grin—and perhaps the sun illuminating a few freckles on Inez’ nose—would work wonders on Margot, as if dissolving any stubbornness or opposition to a crazy idea on her part, but that time was long gone. “How about lunch?”

  “I’m having lunch with my girlfriend.” Margot looked Inez over, hoping her icy stare wouldn’t miss its effect. She even found Inez’ hair, as well as, basically, her entire presence, offensive. It was too bright, too fiery. Too much.

  “Fair enough.” The grin didn’t disappear from Inez’ face. “I know you well enough to take my time with you, Go-Go, and I’m not going anywhere.” Inez wi
nked and walked out of the on-call room.

  Margot only saw the back of Inez’ white coat as she dashed off, but she could easily imagine the smile plastered on her ex’ face. She’d soon charm the entire hospital with it.

  As she made her way behind Inez, taking smaller steps than usual to keep her distance, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” Claire asked.

  “Fine.” It wasn’t really a lie. Margot could have hoped to be completely unaffected by Inez’ return, but it had never been a realistic expectation. It would always have stung a little.

  “I’m afraid I can’t do lunch.” Claire sighed, not enquiring further about Inez. “The office is in shambles again.”

  “What happened?” Margot could not possibly fathom how Barbier & Cyr still turned a profit with all the dramatic shenanigans going on on its office floor, and she probably only knew half of it.

  “I’m not sure, but Juliette has finally cracked. She’s not coming in today and I have to take some of her meetings.”

  Margot couldn’t help but roll her eyes—Claire couldn’t see her anyway. “Okay. I’ll try to come over tonight, but I’ll check on Nadia first, just in case.”

  They rang off and Margot glanced at her watch. She didn’t have the luxury of time for more lesbian drama. Her first surgery of the day started in exactly seven minutes.

  At the other end of the corridor, by the ER nurses station, she spotted Alice, the usually quite stern head nurse, doubled over in laughter, Inez by her side.

  It was going to be a long day.

  CLAIRE

  Claire tried calling Juliette again. She’d only sent her a brief text message that morning, lacking any clarification as to why she couldn’t come to work. Claire could probably get most of the information she needed for today’s meetings from Sybille, but she hadn’t yet shown up either. More than that, she just wanted to make sure Juliette was all right.