French Kissing: Season One

by Harper Bliss

  Her phone buzzed, and she half-hoped it was Sarah cancelling.

  A message from Steph appeared on the screen of her phone:

  Take it easy, thirsty tiger.

  Claire looked in Steph’s direction, who shot her a stern scowl. With her fingers, she made the universal ‘slow down’ sign. Claire responded with a mere shrug.

  “Claire?” A voice beamed next to her.

  Claire looked into the face of a minuscule but very attractive woman. “Yes.” She shot up out of her chair and extended her hand. “In the flesh.”

  “I’m Sarah.” Claire witnessed how Sarah looked over at Steph. What an excellent start to a semi-blind date. Sarah sat down. “What are you drinking?”

  “Cosmo.” Claire sat back down and waved Tony over while suppressing the urge to drop her purse already, just to save herself from imminent humiliation.

  “I’ll have the same,” Sarah said to Tony.

  Tony nodded and headed back inside, leaving them alone. Despite having just dated Margot, Claire felt so out of practice. How old was this girl sitting across from her, anyway? She looked about twenty-five.

  “I—” They both started talking at the same time, then burst out in an awkward giggle.

  “You go first,” Sarah said while making a cute gesture with her hand. She was probably just as nervous as Claire.

  Claire cleared her throat. “I’m sorry if I don’t look like the spitting image of my picture. My brother put it on—”

  “You look just fine. Really,” Sarah said quickly, offering a smile in the process.

  Maybe this could be fun, after all. Without thinking, Claire glanced over at Steph.

  “Back-up plan?” Sarah asked.

  Claire shot her an apologetic grin. “Sorry. I don’t usually do this. I guess I needed some moral support.”

  “Believe it or not, I understand.”

  “Do you also have a friend hanging around?” Claire asked while scanning the terrace, but Tony, who was carrying over Sarah’s cosmo, blocked her view.

  “No, but I understand the impulse.” Sarah nodded at Tony as he placed her drink on the table. “Let me guess…” She cocked her head and let her eyes linger on Claire’s face. “You recently ended a long-term relationship and you thought you’d give new technology a try?”

  “Close.” Claire drew her lips into a thin strip and held up two fingers. “But I promise to not be one of those first dates who goes on about her ex the entire evening.”

  When Sarah sipped from her cosmo, she kept her eyes on Claire the entire time.

  “I usually know better than to ask a lady about her age,” Claire started to say—because she had to know if she’d be chatting up a girl in her twenties.

  Sarah shrugged before replying. “Don’t worry, I’m legal.” She shot Claire a wink. “Only a bit vertically challenged which takes about fifteen years off my actual age.” Putting a hand on her chest, she bowed, and said, “I know I don’t look a day over twenty, but I’m actually thirty-six.”

  While they both drank, Claire felt something fizz in the air between them. But would someone as tiny as that be able to tie her up? She erased the thought from her mind immediately and looked over at Steph, giving her a slight nod. There was no need for her to stick around because, in that moment, Claire couldn’t have been more convinced that this date would have a happy ending. She signalled Tony for another round.

  Over two more cosmopolitans Claire found out that Sarah worked as an IT consultant, had lived in Paris for ten years, had been single for the past year—navigating the pitfalls of the single lesbian scene quite unsuccessfully—and had been on a slew of rather catastrophic dates.

  “Until now, it seems,” she said, flashing Claire a smile that could not be misunderstood.

  And perhaps it was that smile, and what it implied, or how it, somehow, emphasised what Claire was missing, but instead of lifting her up—and solidifying the good outcome of this first date—it broke her a little. The first crack in the armour she’d so expertly worn all night. By then, she was also quite drunk, her head swimming, her mind unable to escape recurring thoughts of Margot and how she’d looked at Claire on their first date—the interrupted one. The one after which she’d been convinced they could never work out together. She should have trusted her instincts. Why didn’t she do that anymore?

  She looked away from Sarah, not returning—or even acknowledging—the compliment. Sarah’s company was entertaining enough, her smile seductive and her eyes glinting with the promise of more, but she wasn’t Margot.

  “Claire? Are you all right?” Sarah asked.

  Claire shook her head and pinned her glance on Sarah. “I’m sorry. You are truly wonderful but I can’t do this.” She started looking around for Tony to ask for the check—and because she couldn’t keep her eyes on Sarah and the vexed expression on her face for more than a split second. “I apologise for wasting your time.”

  “W-was it something I said?” Sarah slid to the edge of her chair, slanting her upper body over the table.

  “God no.” Claire started slurring her words, the alcohol suddenly hitting her with full force. “She ruined me and she’s a fucking doctor… how ironic is that?” Claire shrugged. “I guess it would have been more ironic if she was a heart surgeon, what with breaking mine and all…” A loud cackle made its way out of Claire’s throat.

  Sarah scraped the feet of her chair over the ground while pushing it backwards. “Let me get you a taxi.”

  “I’ve got it.” Out of nowhere, Steph appeared next to their table. “I’m so sorry about this.” Claire heard Steph say to Sarah. “She, um, hasn’t been herself lately.”

  “Where did you come from?” Claire asked Steph.

  “The way you were knocking them back, I figured you’d need a ride home.”

  “But Steph, you don’t have a car.” Claire chuckled loudly at this.

  Without anyone having asked, Tony deposited a cup of coffee and a carafe of water on the table.

  From her seat, Claire watched Steph exchange a few muffled words with Sarah, who proceeded to walk away without saying goodbye. Steph sat down in Sarah’s chair.

  “Drink up,” Steph commanded. “You really need to get your act together, Claire. I know it hurts, but come on.” Her eyes rested on Claire and her lips were drawn into a serious, very un-Steph-like pout. “Have some self-respect.”

  MARGOT

  “Were you even going to tell me?” Inez had Margot cornered in the changing room after her evening shift. “Or were you just going to sneak off?”

  “What?” Clearly, Nadia had executed her threat and talked to Inez. “She had no right to tell you.”

  Inez rolled her eyes. “After everything, you were just going to run? That’s not like you, Go-Go. You’re a fighter.”

  “And you’re the one who’s going to teach me about the virtues of sticking around? Give me a break.” Margot didn’t have the energy to change out of her scrubs. She just stood there, looking at Inez, wishing she’d disappear into thin air.

  “No, I’m the one who’s going to leave.” Inez took a deep breath. “But I had really expected you to have the balls to just be honest with me.”

  “What are you talking about? You’re leaving?”

  “Sit down for a minute, please.” Inez crashed down on the wooden bench, a pleading look in her eyes.

  Mostly because her legs were trembling so hard, Margot sat down next to her.

  “I’m not a monster who wants you back no matter the cost,” Inez started. “I’ve disrupted your life twice. Once when I left and all over again when I came back. I should be the one to go. I did this.”

  “But—” Margot couldn’t immediately think of any objections.

  “I know you don’t want me back. You may not be able to admit it, not after the price you paid for thinking that you did, but I get the message loud and clear.” Inez swallowed hard. “It’s done. My letter of resignation is sitting on Nadia’s desk as we speak.”r />
  “But, where will you go?” Despite being touched by Inez’ gesture, an unexpected sadness crept up on Margot.

  “There are quite a few hospitals in this city. I’m sure I’ll find one that will have me.” Inez looked down at her hands. “I’m so sorry for coming back here and destroying your relationship, for waltzing in and thinking I could just have you back. It was selfish and foolish and incredibly disrespectful.” She sucked in a breath. “Your family needs you here, Go-Go. Saint-Vincent needs you.”

  “I’ve made such a mess.” Margot realised she was beginning to sound like a broken record.

  “No.” Inez shuffled closer and put her hand on Margot’s knee. “I’m the one who messed up. Listen to me.” She dug her nails into Margot’s scrubs. “Fight for her. You’re not that easy to get over. I should know.”

  “Claire has told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn’t want me anymore.” Because this was all well and good, this display of remorse way after the fact, but it didn’t change the look of pure disdain that Claire had shot her when Margot had gone to see her last.

  “You’d be surprised to learn what people say and do when they’re hurt.” Inez smiled at her—a dimmed-down version of her million dollar smile. She bumped her shoulder into Margot’s. “And she’d be a fool not to give you another chance.”

  Margot just shook her head. Maybe the old her.

  “I know you better than most people. The minute you stop expecting from yourself to be at least twice as perfect as everyone else, I know you’ll be all right.” She slung her arm over Margot’s shoulder. “Nobody’s perfect. Not even you.” Pulling Margot closer, Inez broke into a chuckle. “And least of all me.”

  “God, it’s not funny,” Margot said, desperate for the release that came with a bout of laughter.

  “Maybe not, but what else are we going to do? Sit around and cry all night?”

  “When are you leaving?” Margot freed herself from Inez’ embrace and turned to look her in the eyes.

  “Next week.” Inez swung one leg over the bench and faced Margot. “And I’m going to miss your grumpy face like crazy.”

  Margot couldn’t suppress a giggle at that remark. “This will sound so fucked-up, but thank you.”

  Inez pinned her green eyes on Margot, her lips lightly parted, already splitting into a grin. She leaned closer and, instead of curving her lips into a smile, she pressed a kiss on Margot’s lips. “I’ll never forget our last time, Go-Go. I’ll never forget you.”

  A tear ran down Margot’s cheek, but she didn’t brush it away.

  “What did I say about crying all night long?” With her thumb, Inez caught Margot’s tear.

  JULIETTE

  After Nadia’s call announcing Marie Dievart’s visit, Juliette didn’t feel like planning Nadia’s birthday party anymore. Perhaps it wasn’t fair, but at least Juliette had stressed—repeatedly—that her night of straying with Sybille had been completely unsatisfactory.

  She’d bought a new bed, and erased the memory from their life as best she could. Nadia, on the other hand, had never made any specific confessions about her night with the neurosurgeon being something she desperately wanted to forget about. For all Juliette knew, she conjured up images of the dexterous doctor when they were in bed together. And now, she was allowing her to consult at the hospital again. Wasn’t she supposed to be the boss? And was there really only one neurosurgeon as gifted as her in the region?

  So, she waited for Nadia to walk through the door that evening, ready to ask the question. By the time Nadia made it home though, Juliette was so revved up, her mind so saturated with images of Nadia and the other woman, her tone could, perhaps, have been a bit less accusing.

  “Show me what she did to you?” Juliette said as soon as Nadia had put her purse down. “I need to know.”

  “What?” Nadia sat down next to her. “Is this about Dievart?”

  Juliette rolled her eyes, fully aware of the row she was creating, but utterly unable to stop herself. “Who else?”

  “Babe, come on. I hope you know I wouldn’t have her at Saint-Vincent if I had any other choice.”

  “What is your job exactly at that hospital? I mean, first they make you hire someone who destroys my best friend’s life, and now, you’re bringing back the woman you cheated on me with. From where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re having some authority issues, babe. Unless you want her to come back.” As the words exited her mouth, Juliette knew she was making a big mistake—that she was just lashing out—but she still couldn’t stop herself.

  “Silly me for thinking we were past this,” Nadia said with a sigh. “If I had known you wouldn’t be able to handle it, I would have just let her come and go without you even being aware of it. It wouldn’t have changed a thing, because that night with her—that drunken, regrettable night—meant nothing. We’ve been over this.”

  “We haven’t, though.” All the muscles in Juliette’s body tensed. “My dalliance with Sybille, that was nothing. I didn’t come, didn’t derive the slightest pleasure from it. Basically, I only slept with her because you and I had broken up… because you slept with the surgeon.”

  “Really?” Nadia’s eyes narrowed. “Do you really want to say that to me right now? This is really what’s on your mind? Because if it is, we do have a big problem.”

  “Just tell me. I need to know.” Juliette didn’t know when to stop. It was the story of her life.

  “Yes.” Nadia pinned her dark eyes on Juliette. “If you really want to know. Yes, I had an orgasm, possibly even two. I don’t really remember. But you know what? It doesn’t make a difference if I remember or not, because it doesn’t fucking matter.” She blew out a large puff of air. “You need to let this go, Jules. You really need to. If you can’t…” She shrugged. “Well, then I don’t know…”

  Juliette’s muscles collapsed. “I’m sorry. Just, you saying her name, it brought it all back.”

  “Actually.” Nadia dragged the tip of her tongue over her teeth. “You may have a point.”

  “What do you mean?” Panic coiled in Juliette’s stomach.

  “I’m going to show you.” Nadia’s eyes grew even darker. “You need to be shown.”

  “But…” Juliette knew her protest was futile. She had voiced her paranoia, now it was Nadia’s turn.

  “Get up.” Nadia set the example and pushed her chair back. “Don’t make me wait for it.”

  The panic in Juliette’s gut quickly transformed into pure lust. One look from Nadia was still all it took. The point Nadia was trying to make came across perfectly. She rose from her seat and awaited further instructions. To her surprise, Nadia gently slid an arm around her neck, finding Juliette’s ear with her lips.

  “I’m going to fuck you the way we fuck. Not how Marie fucked me and certainly not how Sybille fucked you. This is us. There’s no room for others in our bed. They’re history. We made it through, babe. You and me. Understood?”

  Almost piously, Juliette bowed her head and nodded.

  “Come on.” Nadia pressed a kiss on her cheekbone and coaxed her to the bedroom.

  Juliette’s blood thumped with excitement. She’d caught a whiff of it in Nadia’s glance. The way we fuck, she’d said. It could only mean one thing in a situation like this. Punishment.

  “Take off your clothes and get on all fours.” Nadia’s voice was close, lurking behind Juliette, giving orders from the shadows of their bedroom.

  Juliette slipped out of her work attire—a loose linen suit because of the mild temperature outside and the relaxed atmosphere at work. Her clothes fell to the ground, crinkling in a beige pool of fabric. Instantly, the expanse of her skin was transformed into a plain of goosebumps. Nadia hadn’t punished her in months—the right occasion had been hard to find.

  Naked, Juliette crawled onto the bed, facing away from Nadia. She only heard—and felt—her in the room. A dip in the mattress when she joined Juliette on the bed, the tell-tale nervous cough escaping from her thr
oat as she prepared. Juliette could probably predict, second-by-second, what would happen next. Then again, Nadia had surprised her lately and she was right: they weren’t the same people anymore.

  The air around Juliette stirred as Nadia inched closer and ran two fingers over the flesh of her bottom.

  “Your ass is a work of art, babe,” Nadia hissed. “And it’s all mine.”

  Although expected but still catching Juliette off-guard, the first stroke landed hard just below her buttock, on the delicate patch of skin connecting ass and thigh. A trickle of juice freed itself from between Juliette’s already aching pussy lips.

  Slap. Another one hit her a little higher, but harder with the fingertips. Juliette steadied herself, engaging her core muscles to keep her posture rigid and receive the blows better. Nadia followed up with a quick caress before trailing her hand to Juliette’s other buttock.

  Juliette’s clit throbbed, blood pooling in her pussy lips, beating hard in her veins. She hadn’t expected the next three blows to rain down hard on her cheek, administered, she suspected, with the wrist held tight. Nadia’s fingertips landed so close to her engorged lips and more moisture ran down her inner thighs.

  “Do you think that’s enough, babe?” Nadia’s voice was a low hum, all the kindness stripped from it, but for Juliette, for someone who knew her the way she did, it was still there.

  Juliette shook her head. “No.”

  “I didn’t think so either.” Nadia let her fingertips trail over the most painful patches, pressing down hard where it hurt the most. Then, in a flash, her palm connected with Juliette’s right buttock again. Juliette caught the shock in her elbows, her body pushing forward slightly. Blood roared in her ears, lust drowning everything out. It was just Nadia’s hand on her behind, over and over again. Not too hard to make her cry, but hard enough to make her feel. To let her know that this was them.