by A. L. Brooks
It was difficult yet wonderful to be in such close proximity to her as they worked. While they were both obviously being careful in moving around each other, not touching or brushing, Tamsyn found herself wishing that once, just once, Maggie would lean in a little closer as she reached for that salt cellar. There was a hint of an enticing scent coming from her, and Tamsyn wanted to know if it was perfume, or shampoo, or perhaps simply body lotion. The urge to sniff her like some kind of lesbian bloodhound in heat was becoming stronger by the minute.
“Are you okay?” Maggie’s voice snapped Tamsyn out of her daydreaming.
“Fine. I’m fine. Sorry. I think it’s the champagne, and the warmth in here—I seem to be falling into a semi-comatose state already.” Nothing to do with how intoxicating it is being around you.
Maggie smiled. “You need food. If you open the fridge, there’s some olives on one of the shelves. They’ll tide us over until this is cooked.”
“Great idea.” To be honest, anything would have been a suitable distraction at that point. Hell, she’d have even petted the dog if it provided a few minutes of not looking at Maggie. It was rather strange, in a way. Maggie wasn’t glamorous, or dressed to the nines, not like any of the women Tamsyn usually dated. Although she wore simple attire, it suited her and showed off the beautiful curves of her body in all the right ways. But it was more than the looks and the clothes. It was her entire demeanour. Calm, down to earth, humorous. Not standing on ceremony, or trying too hard to impress. She was just being Maggie. Tamsyn envied her the ability to be that way while still being a relatively public face.
Ducking her head into the fridge, she cast her gaze around for the olives. They weren’t obvious, and she started to move containers and bags of ingredients around in her search.
“Any luck?” Maggie’s voice came from beside Tamsyn’s right ear; she must have walked up so quietly that Tamsyn hadn’t heard her.
She turned her head to respond and only just held back a gasp. Maggie was standing so close, in the small gap between Tamsyn’s body and the open door of the fridge, that Tamsyn could count the lashes that framed each beautiful hazel eye. She stared, bewitched, as those eyes widened slightly, then softened, then turned a shade darker. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Maggie’s tongue dart out to lick her lips, and the action sent a shiver of desire straight down to set off a low throbbing between her legs. Maggie’s gaze travelled slowly over her face, as if drinking in every detail of Tamsyn to store up for later. It was as sensuous as a caress and it took a moment for Tamsyn to register that, and to instinctively know what it meant. How had she not seen it before? Was Maggie that good at hiding her feelings?
“Tamsyn,” Maggie breathed, the warmth of her breath stroking across Tamsyn’s lips.
How had they got so close? Who had moved first?
Even though a part of her mind was warning her of the danger, she couldn’t listen to it. She raised a hand and ran a thumb across Maggie’s lower lip. Maggie let out a soft moan. Meeting her gaze, Tamsyn swallowed hard at the heat she saw there. Heat that only reflected her own, she knew. The throb between her legs climbed in intensity. Good God, how she wanted to kiss those lips, to pull Maggie close and know what it would feel like to run her fingers through her hair.
Maggie’s hand landed gently on Tamsyn’s hip, and while the motion itself wasn’t so startling, the connection was. Tamsyn abruptly took a step back. Her left side was cool from the open fridge but the rest of her was burning with a heat she both wanted and feared.
“Sorry,” Maggie said, flushing a crimson red and stepping back, bumping her head on the fridge door as she did so. “Shit.”
Before Tamsyn could make any move to keep her there, to explain or mollify, Maggie was gone, out of the kitchen and into one of the other rooms where she loudly shut the door.
Tamsyn hung her head. Damn it.
She closed the fridge door and rubbed her left cheek to bring some heat back into it. Gizmo wandered into the room, his head cocked to one side as he tried to figure out what was going on and why a stranger was standing in his kitchen, not his mum.
“Sorry, boy, I upset her. And I need to fix it, so stay right there.” She pointed a stern finger at him. He blinked and sat down.
Well, holy shit. Tamsyn Harris, dog trainer. Who knew?
Using her amazing powers of deduction—the bathroom door was open—she knew Maggie was in the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door and knocked once, firmly. No answer. Tamsyn sighed; she couldn’t force Maggie to talk to her, but she had to ensure Maggie knew she’d done nothing wrong.
Knocking again, she listened as hard as she could, her ear pressed to the door.
“Maggie, come on, I know you’re in there. Please, I would like to talk to you, to explain what just happened.”
“There’s nothing to explain. Please, I’m embarrassed enough as it is. Can you just go?” Maggie’s tremulous voice broke Tamsyn’s heart.
“No, I’m afraid I can’t.” Not knowing or understanding why she was doing this, pressing the point so hard when Maggie had given her an out, she turned the handle and opened the door.
Maggie was sitting on the bed, hands under her legs, knees pulled up to her chin. She groaned at the sight of Tamsyn walking into the room and turned her head away.
“Please, just leave me alone.” Her voice was muffled, but the anguish in it was clear.
A strange calmness had descended on Tamsyn, something she couldn’t explain then or later. She pushed the door closed behind her and walked across the room, her pace even and gentle. The bed dipped as she added her weight to it, and Maggie’s head snapped round as Tamsyn shuffled up alongside her and laid a hand on her hip.
“Maggie, please listen to me. That, in there, was not all you. It was me too.”
The confession felt wonderful, freeing. Damn the consequences, though somehow she knew there wouldn’t be any she couldn’t handle—she trusted Maggie with this. She had no idea why, but she did.
Maggie stared at her. “W-What?”
“I wanted that kiss just as much as you did.” Tamsyn was almost whispering as thoughts of how much she still wanted it coursed through her.
Maggie blinked, and her mouth dropped open in a small ‘O’. Tamsyn smiled. God, she looked adorable.
“A-Are you…gay?”
Tamsyn took a deep breath. “I’m a lesbian, yes.”
“Holy shit,” Maggie said, then clapped a hand over her mouth.
Tamsyn chuckled. “Indeed. Not something I’ve ever advertised, and never will, probably. It’s a hard enough life without… Well, you know.”
“I…I guess.” Maggie lowered her legs and shimmied around a little to face Tamsyn more easily. “You… We… In there…”
“Maggie.” Tamsyn was swamped with a need she couldn’t control, and didn’t want to, not now. “I… I told you yesterday how beautiful you are. I wasn’t lying. You’re… You take my breath away.”
“Oh.” Maggie’s eyes were shining.
“Can I ask? Are…you?”
Maggie smiled. “Lesbian? Oh, yeah. Duh.”
Tamsyn snorted softly. “Well, that’s the trouble with being so far in the closet. No working gaydar.”
Her tone was wry, but underneath she heard her own bitterness and squashed it down before it ruined the moment. Maggie was smiling, and it lit up her face.
Tamsyn couldn’t hold it back any longer, couldn’t deny it anymore.
Moving slowly, but with intent pounding through her veins, she leaned forward. Maggie inhaled sharply but in the next moment rose up on her hands to meet her, and a moment after that, Tamsyn did what she’d been wanting to do since the beginning. She kissed Maggie. Their lips met, and it was every kind of softness and warmth she had missed for so long. And yet it was also more than that. This was Maggie she was kissing, and that held its
own value, and a high one at that.
Maggie’s lips moved under hers, sampling, savouring, it seemed, and the touch reignited that throbbing from earlier and sent it to fever pitch. Tamsyn opened her mouth, tentatively let her tongue dip between Maggie’s lips, and was rewarded with a moan, and a meeting of tongues that wrenched a sound from her throat that was part torture, part ecstasy. She pressed closer, Maggie’s heat searing her body in the few places where they touched and making her crave more. They were both diving deeper now, both adding a delicious force to the movement of their lips, their tongues. Maggie was emitting the most incredible sounds from somewhere deep in her throat, and every one set off another spark of arousal that skittered down Tamsyn’s spine to her thighs, her belly, and her clit.
They came up gasping for air and stared at each other.
“That was…” Maggie managed to mumble, shaking her head slightly.
“Uh-huh.” Tamsyn traced a line around Maggie’s mouth with a fingertip.
Maggie shifted, bringing herself more upright, her body closer to Tamsyn’s. “So,” she said, her gaze flickering away and back again. “We, um, kissed. W-What happens now? I mean, um, what does that mean?”
Chapter 7
Maggie stared at Tamsyn while she waited for a response.
Oh, my good God, I just kissed Tamsyn fucking Harris. But the minute she thought the words, she admonished herself. No, I didn’t. I kissed Tamsyn, just Tamsyn.
It was an important distinction. When she’d peered into the open fridge alongside Tamsyn, she hadn’t been thinking, “Oooh, I’m snuggled up to the famous actress here.” She’d only been aware of the warm presence of a gorgeous woman in such close proximity. A woman whose eyes drew Maggie in, whose lips looked like they’d be perfect to kiss, and whose hint of vulnerability triggered a level of affection that seemed out of proportion to the time they had actually spent together.
Tamsyn shuffled where she sat. Maggie could feel the aftermath of that kiss sizzling between them, and on every point in her skin where Tamsyn’s body heat touched her. Tamsyn’s face was still flushed, and her weight pressed against Maggie made her want to pull Tamsyn down and carry on where they’d left off a minute ago. It had been a very long time since a woman had fired her up so completely, so quickly.
Tamsyn swallowed, and a half-smile crossed her lips. “Well, that’s the sixty-four-million-dollar question, isn’t it?”
Maggie blinked, her mind in a daze as she stared at those luscious lips again. “What question?” she murmured.
A husky chuckle left Tamsyn’s throat. “Your question. About what happens now.”
“Oh, yeah. That.” Maggie tried to pull her mind back, but it was a losing battle. “Well, I vote for more kissing.”
Tamsyn held up a finger. She was smiling, but it was one of those smiles that lacked conviction, and Maggie’s fog faded in the face of its blandness. Pushing herself up a little more, easing Tamsyn away from her slightly in the process, she stared at her.
“I just need to make something clear. If that’s the way we’re going to go. The more kissing way.” Tamsyn looked…haunted, and Maggie wondered at the cause.
“Um, okay.”
“I can’t…” Tamsyn looked towards the ceiling and exhaled before returning her gaze to Maggie’s. “This can only be something brief, and passing. No strings. I can’t do strings. If that’s not something you can respect then we should stop now, have a nice meal, and that’ll be the end of it. I also need to ask that you keep this to yourself—no going to the press. I don’t think you would, but I’ve learned it’s best to make things very clear from the start so that my…partners understand the situation.” She shrugged, but her eyes stayed locked on Maggie’s. “I have a career to protect.”
The words were cold, but Maggie picked up on a layer of something behind them, underneath them, running so deep she wondered if Tamsyn was even aware of it: regret. She stared at Tamsyn, who looked resolute, almost stern. Was she trying to convince Maggie, or herself? Either way, it was as if they were negotiating a business agreement, and the impersonal nature of that had her flopping back onto the bed, her gaze on the ceiling.
“Maggie?”
She turned her head to look at Tamsyn. “Talk about mood killer,” she said, not bothering to hide her irritation. “Is there some contract you need me to sign too? An NDA, perhaps?” Anger rumbled up, and she sat upright before pushing herself off the bed. Tamsyn watched her every move, her eyes narrowed. “Do you know what’s so funny about all of this?” Maggie strode to the window, looking out into the darkness between curtains that weren’t quite pulled across the glass.
“What?” Tamsyn’s voice, even in that one word, was tight and on edge.
Maggie turned back to face her. “I didn’t kiss you because you’re Tamsyn Harris, world-famous actress. I kissed you because you’re Tamsyn, a gorgeous woman I met out on a walk yesterday and was enjoying a lovely evening with, and who I’m wildly attracted to.” She sighed. “You wanted to be yourself this evening, and for me, setting one or two little blips aside, you were. You were Tamsyn, and I liked kissing Tamsyn.”
When Tamsyn didn’t respond, other than to blink a few times, Maggie threw up her hands and stomped out of the room. What was the point? The woman was so fixated on protecting her damn career she wouldn’t even allow herself to relax for one evening. Which was such a shame because for a few minutes there, more than a few minutes, she had, and she’d been a wonderful person to be around. And to kiss.
When Maggie walked into the kitchen, Gizmo leaped up from his place by the fire, leaving his beloved Snakey behind, to follow her. He’d always been good at judging her moods, and the tilt of his head told her he knew she was ruffled and in need of some doggy attention. She knelt and hugged him close.
“I’m sorry.” Tamsyn’s words were quiet, but in the stillness of the cottage carried easily from where she stood in the doorway.
Maggie stared at her, her chin on Gizmo’s head.
Tamsyn shrugged, then folded her arms around herself. “What you said in there, you’re…you’re right. I was me, tonight. Mostly. And it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do that and it…unsettled me. It was way too easy to fall back on being that other Tamsyn. I’m more used to being her. Even though she stops me from being who I really want to be. Who I really am.” She leaned against the door frame and sighed. “The trouble is, I have to be her, don’t you see? That’s my life. It’s everything. So although I perhaps handled our situation badly, and my words could have been chosen better, the underlying facts are still true. I can’t offer you anything more than a holiday fling.”
Maggie let go of Gizmo and stood up. “I don’t remember asking you for anything, fling or otherwise. What I really resent about all that you said is the implication that I am only in this so that I can tick ‘famous actress’ off my list of accomplishments or something. That I am, or was, only doing this because of your name. It never crossed my mind to look beyond this evening, and it never crossed my mind to wake up in the morning and call the tabloids with all the juicy gossip. I thought I was kissing the real Tamsyn in there, but who were you kissing? Because it certainly wasn’t the real me if that’s what you thought of me.”
Tamsyn stared at her, cheeks flushing. “Maggie, wait, that’s not true! I…” She pushed off the door frame, unfolded her arms, and took a couple of tentative steps forward. “Please believe me, when I was kissing you, I wasn’t thinking any of those things. I was only thinking about how incredible you felt, how bloody amazing it was to kiss such a beautiful woman, a woman I was spending such a wonderful evening with. It was only afterwards that famous Tamsyn took over and fucked it all up.”
In spite everything, Maggie couldn’t help snorting at Tamsyn’s use of the F-word. It sounded so incongruous coming from such a well-spoken woman, even though she’d used the word many times on screen.
“You used the F-word.” Maggie shrugged, chuckling. “Somehow it tickled me in amongst all the drama.”
Tamsyn’s smile this time was wry. “Well, I am an actress, darling. We do like a bit of drama.”
“I’ll say.”
Tamsyn stepped nearer still. “I really am sorry,” she said quietly. “I never meant to ruin what was becoming one of the best evenings I’ve had in quite a while.”
Maggie could hear the sincerity in her tone and see it in her eyes. “I know you didn’t.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Look, it’s getting on for dinner time. Why don’t we eat, have another glass of champagne, and forget all this, okay?”
Tamsyn’s face fell, just for a moment, before she squared her shoulders and beamed a not-so-genuine smile. “Sure, let’s do that.”
Tamsyn gathered Maggie’s plate and cutlery and glared when her host tried to stop her.
“You cooked most of the dinner. Let me clean up, okay?”
Maggie looked sheepish but held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay.”
Tamsyn grinned at her. “Go sit by the fire. I won’t be long.”
It took a couple of trips to ferry all the used plates, dishes, and cutlery to the kitchen but only fifteen minutes to wash it all up. Contrary to what people might think, Tamsyn did know how to do washing up, and a host of other household chores. When in London and not too busy with PR and events, Tamsyn took an almost humble joy in being able to clean her own home. It was one of the few times she felt like a real person with a real life.