by Ronica Black
When she returned to the present and opened her eyes and saw those honey-glowing eyes looking down at her, and felt that familiar hot skin against hers, she realized that all-knowing, all-comforting blanket was Carla Sims.
Chapter Twenty-four
Janice awoke with a start, confused. She reached out but only felt the cool satin of the sheets where she’d expected Carla to be. Her heart leapt to her throat as she realized her absence.
She sat up and rubbed her face, trying to further awake. The candle that had burned for hours, bearing witness to their sighs and lustful confessions now flickered with waning light. As Janice recalled some of those sighs and confessions and what had caused them to be voiced, her own inner wick was reigniting, despite the fact that it had burned just as long and bright as the one on her dresser. The passage of time and spent energy may have led to a slower dance of flame, now buried deep in the barrel of wax inside herself and the candle, but nevertheless, both wicks still burned.
She crawled from the bed and didn’t bother with a robe before heading down the hallway. Light from the lamp in the living room guided her on her quest to find Carla. But the couch and love seat were empty and her den dark and vacant. Shuffling noises in the kitchen, however, caught her attention as did a slant of bright light. She leaned against the doorjamb and crossed her arms, amused.
Carla, clad only in her cotton panties and the gray cotton bra she slept in, stood in front of the open refrigerator, digging through the contents.
“Hungry?”
She turned quickly with her hand to her chest and saw Janice grinning.
“Funny. Very funny. You know I think initiating a heart attack is considered murder in some states.”
Janice couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well, not in this one.”
“So, you would walk away scot-free then?”
“’Fraid so.”
“Criminal,” she said, turning back to the fridge to retrieve two bottles of water and the covered plate of fruit and cheese they often kept handy to snack on. She nudged the fridge closed with her hip and walked toward her.
“How about you? You hungry?” she asked, now with a grin of her own.
Janice allowed herself to look her up and down, unabashedly taking her time. “Mm, I think so.”
Janice saw her face flush. “You’re blushing.”
Carla edged past her. “No, I’m not.”
Janice followed her into the living room and watched her set her goods down on the coffee table. Then she sat in her usual spot and uncovered the plate and quickly popped a small cube of cheese in her mouth. She grinned as she chewed, now taking her turn in looking Janice up and down.
“Care to join me, Professor?”
“Professor? That’s new.”
“It’s who you are, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“So, Professor, and yes, I’m going to call you that from now on because it’s who you are and honestly, it sounds really hot and it turns me on. Would you like to join me for a post-midnight snack?” She opened one of the water bottles without missing a beat and took a hearty drink. Some dripped down her chin and she flinched, probably from the chill and wiped it away with the back of her hand. “Guess I was a little thirsty.”
Janice stared, unable to tear her gaze away from her wet mouth.
“You said you were hungry,” Carla said, reaching for a strawberry. She took a bite and again liquid ran down her chin, this time dark pink juice from the strawberry. She cussed and hurriedly tossed the strawberry back onto the plate and wiped her chin with her fingers.
As if in a trance, Janice crossed to her.
“Did I get it?” Carla asked as Janice came to stand next to her.
Janice reached down and touched her stained lips. Then she ran her thumb across her chin.
“No,” she said. “You didn’t get it.”
Carla tried to touch her, but Janice caught her hand and pushed it away. Carla looked at her in confusion and started to question her, but Janice held her jaw and then knelt and covered her mouth with hers, aggressively consuming her, sucking the strawberry off her so hard, Carla made a high-pitched noise of surprise and desperation. But Janice didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. She took her lips between her own again and again, sucking and then licking. And then she attacked the rim of her mouth and chin. Nothing had ever tasted so good.
“Janice,” Carla managed, gripping her arm. Janice could hear her confusion and her weariness at where this was headed. She was used to being in control. And up until now she’d been in control. She’d made love to Janice for hours, barely letting her breathe, much less recover before she’d started in again. She hadn’t even let her out of the bed until Janice had finally managed to outmaneuver her and make a mad dash to the bathroom just so she could pee.
Well, now it was her turn. And Carla wasn’t going to stop her.
Not this time.
Yearning now for so much more than the taste of her strawberry coated mouth, Janice shoved on her shoulders, pushing her back into the love seat.
“Janice,” she tried again.
“Shut up.” She went down on her knees and started tugging on her panties.
“Janice, wha—”
“I said, be quiet,” Janice said, still tugging. “Lift your hips,” she commanded.
“What are you—”
Janice burned a hard stare into her. “I told you I’m hungry. Now shut up and lift your hips.”
Carla visibly swallowed and complied. Janice tore her underwear from her and threw it back over her shoulder. Then she caught sight of the bra. “This too. It needs to go.” She forced it up over her head and tossed it, too, aside. “I want to see all of you,” she said, running her fingers down her body. “I want to watch your skin dampen with sweat and your muscles strain and constrict as I make love to you with my mouth.”
“Janice, Jesus,” Carla whispered.
Janice lowered herself and wrapped her hands under her thighs and up to her pelvis edging her closer. Then, as Carla said her name yet again, Janice attacked her inner thighs, inched her even closer and then sank her mouth into her flesh. The moist, salty taste of Carla hit her the same second as Carla’s throaty cry. Both instantly set off a frenzy inside her and she went insane. Literally lost herself totally and completely, with nothing but the primal need to consume Carla surging through her. She was like an animal, driven by instinct alone, as if she needed her to survive. And her cries, her heavenly cries, were like the life force that made her heart beat, that fueled her raging fire, insisting and ensuring that she keep going, keep wanting, keep needing.
And she did. Relentlessly. Quickly finding Carla’s favorite spot and assaulting it with heavy swirls of her tongue and long, firm sucks with her lips. Driving Carla mad, until the sheen of sweat she’d longed to see on her body appeared and her muscles writhed beneath her tanned skin as she clawed at Janice, just as she’d clawed helplessly at Carla while writhing like a mad woman against her satin sheets, convinced she would never experience anything as fucking good as what she was then.
But now she was proving herself wrong.
Because this, the taste of Carla. The fucking feel of her flesh, like the silk covering her bed only softer, slicker, hotter, matched what she’d felt earlier when Carla’s mouth was devouring her.
To say she understood what Carla had felt doing this to her would not come close to being sufficient. She not only understood. She felt it in her bones. And Carla’s confession, telling her that she fucking loved doing it, didn’t do justice to how she felt as Carla called out to her, shuddered into her and pulled and clung and clawed at her, so overcome with pleasure Janice knew she had gone beyond reality.
No, Janice didn’t just fucking love doing it.
She’d fucking kill to do it.
As if she’d heard her thoughts, Carla fell back against the cushions, shook her head from side to side and began mouthing unintelligible words as her hips began to thrust, eager for m
ore of Janice. Janice pressed into her harder, circled her tongue around and around and then rested fully on her clit, assaulting it while keeping it smothered. Carla’s clenched eyes flew open and she came up off the back cushions.
“Janice,” she pleaded. “Janice, fuck. Oh fuck. I’m gonna—oh God, I’m com—I’m fucking coming.”
She arched, taut breasts and open mouth aimed at the ceiling and let out the deepest, throatiest cry Janice had ever heard. A cry that lasted longer than any pair of human lungs could possibly be capable of. And yet it went on and on as Carla’s entire body froze with strain and her grip on Janice’s head fiercely locked, unwilling to let her escape until her flesh had taken all the pleasure it could possibly stand.
Giving to her, watching her and feeling her at that moment, was the most magnificent thing Janice had ever experienced. And she wished, wished more than anything, she could stay there with her, frozen in time, just like her body. But eventually her cry faltered and her body went limp and Janice gently pulled away. She saw the flush of her cheeks, the deep red of her blood filled lips and the deep but easily seen emotion in her heavy lidded eyes and Janice now wished for that to be the moment she could freeze in time.
For there had never been anything more beautiful in existence.
Janice slowly stood and brushed the backs of her fingers along Carla’s face.
“I don’t want this night to ever end,” she said. “But I know it has to.”
Carla took hold of her hand and kissed it. “Come here.” She pulled her down and Janice straddled her, lost once again in her eyes. “Don’t think about anything else. Just us. Right here, right now.”
She shifted and reclined them onto the cushions, holding Janice tight.
“Okay?” She kissed her hand again.
Janice swallowed, doing her best to force the rising emotion down.
“Okay.”
“Good,” Carla said softly. “Now be quiet and kiss me.”
Janice laughed softly at the emulating of her own bossiness. The feel of Carla’s lips silenced her, though, and with that tender, sensual kiss, everything slowly righted itself once again.
If only for the moment.
A moment Janice was determined to enjoy.
Chapter Twenty-five
Carla woke but her mind was still far too foggy with sleep to understand why. Her eyes slowly opened, and the reason why became apparent, shining directly upon her face. A bright wedge of sunlight had snuck in through the side of the window and, instinctively, her hand shot up to her brow for protection as she slipped from the bed to quickly adjust the curtain.
The sudden movement was too much for her exhausted brain and body, though, and she stumbled back into the covers for more rest. The fatigue, however, did little to douse the smile that came when she snuggled into Janice from behind and lost herself in the scent of her hair and the incredible warmth and softness of her creamy skin. She felt so damn good in her arms, Carla easily melted, and the heavy pull of sleep easily lured her in again.
She dreamt of Janice’s warmth and rhythmic breathing. Of distant knocking and calling voices. All of it swam together in her slumbering mind, somehow making sense. But Janice’s stirring began to rouse her, and when she spoke, Carla was already struggling to regain focus.
“Did you hear something?” Janice asked, squeezing her hand in hers. Sleep was still clinging to her tightly as well. Her voice was riddled with it and her words slurred some.
“Hmm?”
“Thought I heard something.”
Carla held her tighter. “Like what?”
But then Carla heard it too and they both stiffened. There was movement outside the bedroom door. In the house.
“What the—” Carla’s words were stymied as she heard the door suddenly thrust open. Carla and Janice bolted upright and found Maurine standing just inside the door. A horrible noise of shock and surprise came from her just before she stifled it with the smack of her palm over her mouth.
Carla blinked, trying to make sense of her presence, but Maurine’s eyes remained wide open with obvious disbelief.
“Maurine,” Janice said, yanking the sheet up to cover their bodies.
Maurine spoke behind the cover of her hand, as if she couldn’t move it away from her mouth.
“I’ve been trying to call. Was worried about why you both left last night. I—” She shook her head. “You didn’t answer the door. I got scared. Used my key.” She searched both their faces as if desperate to find something, anything, that would disprove what she was seeing, what she was thinking. When she didn’t seem to find it, she turned away like the sight of them was too awful to continue to take in.
“Maurine,” Janice said again. Carla heard the panic in her voice. She reached to comfort her, but Janice swatted her away. “It’s not what it looks like.”
Carla looked at her with her own sense of shock. “It isn’t?”
Janice ignored her. “I—this—”
Maurine in turn, ignored Janice. Instead, she faced them and aimed a hate-filled stare at Carla.
“How could you, Carla Marie Sims? My best friend? My very best friend? It wasn’t enough for you to have everything else? Your expensive, fancy education, your steady job that you love, and your hip, progressive life in Phoenix that you left all of us for. Left Mama for. Because we just ain’t good enough for you are we, Carla? You got to have more. You got to have better. You got to have whatever it is you want, no matter how it affects anyone else.”
Carla shoved her way out from under the covers and stood next to the bed. She was so hurt and so angry her hands were balled into tight fists at her side.
“You’re way out of line, Maurine.”
Maurine scoffed. “Me? I’m out of line? I didn’t seduce your best friend, Carla.” She narrowed her eyes. “That’s why you wanted to stay here, isn’t it? So, you could get close to her and—”
“And what?” Carla seethed. “Worm my way in? Brainwash her? Work these, what, incredible gay magic powers you’re implying I have? That I just all of a sudden one day woke up and decided, you know what? I think I’ll go seduce Janice. Just for the hell of it. And of course, she’ll give in and sleep with me, because I’m that good. I’m that powerful. So powerful are my skills that I easily tricked her into having wild, passionate, mind-blowing, soul-shattering sex with me all night long. Tricked her into enjoying every second of it.” She clenched her jaw, her breathing now quick and ragged. “Do you know how fucking ridiculous you sound? But honestly, I don’t know why I’m surprised. I know why you’re saying these things. It’s because your insane, irrational accusations are a lot easier for you to believe and deal with than the truth. Because you can’t handle the truth.”
“And what’s that, Carla? That Janice, my very best friend in the whole world, that I’ve known forever, is suddenly a damn lesbian?” She laughed, shook her head. “She ain’t gay, Carla. I would know something like that.”
“Like you did me?”
“I didn’t know about you because you didn’t tell me. You kept it secret. Hid it.”
“And no one else could possibly do the same?”
“Janice wouldn’t do that. She would tell me.”
“Would she?”
“Yes, she would.”
“Why, because you’re so calm and understanding and supportive? You’re certainly proving that now, aren’t you?”
“She ain’t gay, Carla. She was married. To a man. You just took advantage of a lonely, vulnerable woman.”
“I see. It’s all me. The evil homosexual swooped in and corrupted yet another unsuspecting soul.” She laughed. “My God, you are ridiculous.”
“I’m just saying what I see.”
“No, you’re not. You’re refusing to accept what you’re seeing. Twisting it into something you can deal with. And apparently, demonizing me, your own niece, is what you’re willing to stoop to to do it. When all you really have to do is talk to your best friend. The very person you cl
aim to be so close to and know so well. But you won’t even do that. You won’t even allow her to speak. Because you don’t want to hear it. So, you’d rather just tell her how she feels in a selfish, all-knowing, self-righteous sort of way rather than give her a chance to be heard, to be herself for the first time in her life.”
Maurine crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m saying what I’m saying because I know her, Carla. I’ve known her all her life. And I know her a whole lot better than you. But, whatever. I’ll listen. Janice, if you want to tell me how you feel, I’m all ears.” But before she faced Janice, she looked at Carla with disgust. “For God’s sake, put some clothes on.”
“Why? You worried you’re suddenly going to want a woman? I must have some serious fucking powers in your mind.”
“Get over yourself, Carla.” She looked to Janice. “Well?”
Janice shook her head, her mouth open but void of words.
“God, Maurine, you’re not exactly being a beacon of understanding and support.”
“I’m listening.”
Carla sighed.
“Well, Janice? Am I right? Or is Carla?”
“Maurine,” Carla said.
“I—” Janice said. “This is all happening so fast. I’m—I—”
Carla knew she was panicked, but she felt the sting of betrayal nonetheless in her reticence to admit how they felt about one another. And Maurine’s hard demeanor that implied an extreme lack of empathy or willingness to understand obviously wasn’t lost on Janice. She just kept stammering and staring at Maurine with wild eyes while clutching the sheet like a woman terrified to let go for fear of losing everything.
Maurine pushed out a breath. “See, Carla? She’s all tore up. She’s a wreck. She isn’t gay. You’ve got her all mixed up and confused and now she feels so guilty she’s scared to say anything.”
Carla pleaded with Janice, now knowing the only way to reach Maurine was for Janice to say something. Otherwise, Maurine was going to create an excuse for all of it. And Carla couldn’t let that happen. They couldn’t let that happen. Janice couldn’t let that happen. Could she?