by Cynthia Dane
It’s tough for me to admit that I still felt a semblance of surprise, because in all honestly, I had not been expecting that. But I kept my mild shock in check as I leaned forward and lightly kissed her on the mouth. “You’re in luck. I’m good at that too. I can even keep eye contact.”
“You’re getting me all excited.”
“I honestly can’t tell, because you’re hard no matter what I say.”
Erica threw her head down on the pillow and laughed. “How did I get so lucky and find someone as understanding as you?”
“And beautiful.”
“Yes, that too.” Her hand clenched the back of my neck and brought me down for another kiss. “Take off your clothes, then take me into your mouth.”
I couldn’t very well ignore an order like that, now could I?
No.
I couldn’t.
The dress peeled off my body as if I were a present unwrapping myself. My knees sank effortlessly into her bed as I sank my head between her legs. My eyes never once looked away from hers – not even when I had to face the fundamental differences between what I did now and my previous experiences doing this in the bedroom.
I did it because she asked me to. I did it because I wanted to. Mostly, I did it because I wanted to know every part of her. Every fear. Every disturbance. Every joy and every moment of unattainable happiness. I wanted to give her pleasure while gleaming my own. I wanted to change our personal world that only we could tear down and rebuild.
I wanted to make her come so hard that she forgot everything.
Well, I got my wish. Two minutes later, her hands were on her forehead while I rocked her world.
I had never heard her sound so unapologetically feminine. It vindicated the part of me that wanted every part of her.
When I was sure she was finished, I sat up and delicately removed everything on her body. I unbuckled the straps around her waist. I slipped the shirt off her arms. I even taught myself to undo the bindings around her breasts, careful to not pinch or scratch her. If I had unwrapped myself, then I was helping her be reborn in the tiny world we called her chambers.
I tossed everything, from the bindings to my beautiful dress, over the edge of the bed and curled up beside her. Erica’s arm remained cast across her eyes, her chest heaving up and down in shallow breaths of disbelief. Two light red lines bordered her breasts.
Perhaps I should have been surprised. Maybe I should have anticipated that something else went on in her mind. But I wasn’t. I knew, from the moment she descended from her orgasmic high, that everything was not okay. No matter how much I wanted it to be, and no matter how much I convinced myself that I had the power to counteract it, I knew she would cry.
“It’s okay…” It was the only thing I could say as she pressed her faced between my breasts again, this time seeking solace instead of sexual escape. I wrapped my body around her, welcoming her into my hold in the hopes that, perhaps, she could finally feel safe again.
Even though I knew it was a fruitless thing to hope.
Because Erica wasn’t okay, was she? She had been fed so many lies and buried under so much shit that she never, ever had a chance to forge her own happiness or making peace with herself. She was thirty years old and so far behind me in terms of accepting who she was and what that meant in this world.
Her childhood had been stolen from her.
Her family had collapsed around her.
Her identity had been cast into the fire, to burn without reproach. There wasn’t enough holy water in the world to drown those destructive flames.
Of course I would fall in love with someone like her. Me, the woman who had eschewed anything difficult, unless it would pit me against everyone else and assure me that I would come out on top if I worked my ass off enough. Me! In love with a mess like her!
No, not a mess. Erica Mann was a category five disaster. Her sobs of terror and cries for help would have broken anyone’s heart.
But I couldn’t let my heart break. She needed me to be strong. She needed me.
I didn’t require her to confess that she loved me. I could feel it in the way she clung to me and buried herself in my warmth.
She may have been a disaster, but she was mine.
Every tear, every sob, every press of her fingers was mine. I shared her pain and resolved to help her change her fate.
Tomorrow, though. We could both changes our fates on the morrow.
Part 3
Chapter 45
ERICA
Dawn had barely edged the horizon when I woke up, alert and unaware that someone slept next to me. The night before, when my emotions were raw and my need to be with somebody trumped everything else, I suggested that Natalie spend the night.
It was strange to wake up to someone in my bed. It had been years since I last allowed that in my life.
Natalie faced away from me, greeting the first rays of dawn with closed eyes. Her hands curled beneath the pillow, although the rest of her remained long and straight as she slept. More than a minute passed of me staring at tranquility that surrounded her slowly breathing body.
I was half tempted to wake her up by curling up around her. But after the emotional – and physical – night we had, it was best to let her rest.
I hopped into the shower and checked the schedule that hit my inbox at seven. Between Brooke and myself, my daily schedule is so tight and succinct that I have these reminders scheduled days, sometimes weeks in advance.
Good thing, too. I had forgotten that this was one of the Saturdays when I entertained before lunch.
How was I going to explain the presence of Janelle, one of the escorts I kept on retainer for my reverse-tutoring? It had never been an issue before. Maybe, if we were really quiet, Natalie wouldn’t…
Nah. She noticed. As soon as I greeted Janelle in the anteroom to my chambers, Natalie was in the doorway, hair tangled and naked body wrapped in one of my robes. Janelle politely said hello and showed herself to the usual couch where we conducted our meetings. Margot arrived a few minutes later with two plates of breakfast.
“What’s this?” Natalie quietly asked me while Janelle took a work-related call. Margot set our plates by the wide windows overlooking my garden. She didn’t say hello to anyone but me, and that’s how I preferred it – only because Margot’s personality isn’t something I usually spring upon my girlfriends if I can help it.
I wrapped a little bit of Natalie’s hair around my finger. It was the only way to show her affection if she insisted on standing behind the couch. “I forgot I had an appointment this morning, Lovely. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you need while you wait for me. I promise I’ll make it up to you after an hour.”
She clearly did not understand what this was about. No, I don’t think Natalie thought I was having sexual relations with other women at nine in the morning, but she was still getting used to my quirks.
Janelle was one of my favorite women to work with. Nobody had the kind of gait and upright confidence she did, and I wanted to emulate it. What comes naturally to so many women is completely lost on me, and I don’t know if I never had it, or if it was beaten out of me so prolifically in my childhood that I never had the chance to connect with it. That’s what women like Janelle helped me correct. If I ever wanted to convince the world that I was a woman one day, there were certain things I had to learn all over again.
Later, Natalie informed me that it was ridiculous. But she would never understand what it was like to skirt the line between too masculine in one life and too feminine in another. I needed to learn how to fit into both worlds if I so chose. Janelle wasn’t only discreet, she knew what she was about and how to convey into words what I was doing wrong and how to correct it.
While Janelle corrected my posture and did her best to keep me from emulating certain celebrities I saw in the media, Natalie ate breakfast and disappeared into my room for a few minutes. She later reappeared in some of my more… embarrassing clothing from adolescen
ce. She must have stolen them from the sorriest depths of my closet.
“Oh my God, honey!” Janelle leaped up from the couch and gave my girlfriend an exasperated look. “What is that you’re wearing?”
Orange hot pants and a graphic tee that left little to the imagination. That’s what she was wearing. Natalie could make anything look cute, but oh my God she was not wearing something that literally said, “You’re ugly, and that’s funny.”
“This was Erica’s idea of haute couture when she was fifteen,” Natalie said.
I had never felt so embarrassed at nine on a Saturday morning. Thanks, Natalie. Expose me for the tasteless fourteen-year-old I used to be. “How did you even find that?”
“Went crawling through your closet. This was stuffed in a plastic drawer behind the Armani suits and the vintage Chanel dresses.”
Janelle’s ears perked up. “Vintage Chanel? Erica, if you’re ever struggling with what to get me for my Christmas bonus, well… I’m a size six, and my best colors are green and blue.”
“Think we’ll end things early today, Janelle.” I got up and offered to shake her hand. There was absolutely no turning back from this interruption. Not when Natalie pranced around in my old clothing and distracted Janelle. If I weren’t careful, my tutor would insist that our next session include my vintage dresses and shoes for days. It would be more about dressing up instead of focusing on my speech and mannerisms, which was what I paid her for.
“What do you think?” Natalie asked as soon as we were alone again. “Should I wear this to the office Monday morning?”
I admit, that made me chortle. The image of my flawlessly put together girlfriend marching into my high-rise executive office in “You’re ugly, and that’s funny,” was a classic play out of a prankster’s book. “Ms. Cho would personally remove you from her vicinity if she saw something like that coming in her direction.”
Natalie must have had the same image in her head that I did, for she gleefully looked off into the distance. “Sorry I went through your closet,” she then apologized. “Was a little too bored for my own good.”
“Next you’ll tell me you found all my sex toys.”
“No, but I found the early ‘90s nudie mags. How about those tits, huh?”
“You’re digging up my secrets, aren’t you?”
“Is the Chanel supposed to be a secret?”
“You said so yourself that it was vintage. It was an investment.”
“Was a Dolce & Gabbana dress from two years ago an investment too? It wasn’t just vintage Chanel in there.”
I remained silent. Natalie could deduce whatever she wanted from that.
“Do you ever wear those?”
I shrugged, as if that would be enough of an answer for her. “Every great once in a while I try one on. But I don’t like wearing dresses. Or skirts, for that matter.” Every time I put one on, I swore I was naked. Fine enough to leave it on in my bedroom, where I could adjust the thermostat or throw a blanket over my lap. Outside? I swore the whole world saw my pussy. “Pants or bust.”
“That’s fair.” Natalie grinned. “I bet you look smokin’ hot in one, though.”
“Maybe you’ll find out one day.”
“Why not today?”
“I don’t feel like pushing it.” Besides, I’d rather die, thank you. “Not after last night.”
Natalie sat next to me, her hand on mine. A part of me was crestfallen that I had ruined the mood with… well, me. It didn’t help that someone like her was in constant need of explanations, of which I had few. “I was kinda hoping that we would stay home for a while. I don’t feel like putting my outside face on. There’s a lot we can do here, you know. Play your cards right and we could hit the hot tub on the first floor.”
“Maybe later.” That response surprised me. Did she not like hot tubs? Was she that cabin fevered already? “Who said anything about going out as anyone but who you are right now? When was the last time you totally went out in public as you?”
Was she… serious? Going out like this? I wore yoga pants and a woman’s V-neck! Everything was on display!
“Okay, okay, I get it.” Natalie held up her hands before I said a single word. “If anyone recognizes you, it could spell big trouble.” She sighed. “But who said anything about going somewhere we might be recognized? I’ll throw on a hoodie and you could wear some casual clothes. Whatever you want. Pantsuit or jeans and a T-shirt. All that matters is that we’re having a relaxing day as a couple.”
The concept was so absurd that I had half a mind to tell her to take a hike. Me? Going out in women’s clothes? In… public? Without security and a million people shuffled around so nobody saw us? Paparazzi were out there! Jesus! She might as well stick a neon sign on my back that said, Eric Mann’s got a cunt!
“You think that’s even possible?” I asked.
“Come on. There’s gotta be someplace in this country we can go without anyone recognizing us. Mostly you.”
“We would have to go to the middle of Nebraska for that to be possible.” I may not be a household face or name, but all it took was the wrong son of a business associate or member of the media to look twice. The photographer who got a shot of Eric Mann in a skirt and bra would make millions.
“Seriously?” Natalie snorted. “It’s not like you’re a super public person. Your authorized photoshoots are so photoshopped that even I can barely tell it’s you anymore. Come on. Please? Let’s go to the coast. Far, far away from here where nobody’s checking for rich people or celebrities. So the kind of coastal town that only the locals would care about.”
“You’re crazy.” My throat closed up, and my forehead perspired just thinking about it. “We can’t do that.” If I were brazen enough to throw on the same outfit I wore on our first date at the country club and go about my business… what would happen? Even ignoring the worst-case scenario of being outed as a woman…
My bodyguard’s face popped up before me. Oh. My. God.
“Sherman would fucking kill me if I did something like that.”
“Sherman ain’t here!” Natalie threw her arms upward. “Who gives a fuck? Just because he’s the head of your security… that’s the only reason he would care.”
“Nick isn’t equipped to deal with something massive like that out in public.”
“What the hell was last night at the restaurant then, a tea party?” Natalie glared at me. “You’re making excuses, babe. Let’s go get dressed and hop in the back of the Audi if you’re so worried. The Lambo will turn everyone’s heads and the Mercedes will also attract the wrong kind of attention. Nobody’s checkin’ for an Audi!”
How did she know about my Audi? And why was she so insistent that we compromise our safety like that? Was it really that important to her that we go out as two women? “You’re serious? You really want me to go out as a woman?”
“I want you to go out as whomever you feel like.”
A small smile eked from my lips. “The only person I feel like being is your girlfriend.”
Natalie leaped up with a grin the size of the sun now shining outside. “Last one to your closet has to buy the crepes!”
I let her win.
Chapter 46
NATALIE
I wasn’t going inside the café until Erica got her ass out of the Audi. We hadn’t driven two and a half hours until Nick found a “boring enough” coastal town for nothing.
Indeed, it was boring. Perfectly boring. No swelling of tourists – only locals who cared about their own daily lives and couldn’t give two shits about some nice car full of decent-looking people in their jeans and hoodies. Nick did a quick sweep of the sidewalk before coming back and telling us that the coast was clear. All that was left was for Erica to get out of the car!
We were going to have lunch in this café, so help me God.
“Hey, babe.” I pretended to sway my come-hither hips back and forth. “I’ll flash you my pussy if you get out of this car.”
Erica
scoffed. Whoops. Pushed the sarcasm a little too far. (Like I wouldn’t have made good on my promise.) “I’m more worried about flashing my stuff.”
“How?” We had gone through three different outfits before finally leaving the house. Erica was covered from head to toe. Jeans and flats meant nobody would check for more than her slender legs and that ass I had yet to fully appreciate in a pair of denim. Her fitted T-shirt certainly accentuated her breasts, yes, but she wore a baggy green jacket over it and nobody was going to see her cleavage! “You’re basically a nun in this outfit. Come on, Erica, it’s sandwiches and home fries by the sea!”
She glanced up and down the empty sidewalk before finally taking my hand. The hood came up on her jacket, even though there wasn’t a drop of water from the sky.
“Hey, come on…” I put my hands on her arms. “They’ve got a rainbow flag sticker in their window. They’re cool with us queers.”
Her mouth dropped open.
“That’s right, hon. We’re a lesbian couple today.”
She almost got back in the car.
Ten minutes later, her ass was in a restaurant chair while Nick and I cornered her on the far side of the room. Even so, she peered over the menu as if a TV crew would knock down the door and scream Aha! at any moment. Where was the confident woman I had met at the country club? Oh, right. Her team made sure nobody saw her in that powerfully feminine outfit. I had almost forgotten that her women’s clothing was reserved for the eyes of her inner circle only.
A TV crew didn’t come in. Only the waitress with a pad and pencil approached us.
“What can I get ya?” Her friendly small-town smile was a lot more natural than any of our big-city grins. Well, Nick was the only one grinning. He didn’t often get to work in his jeans and college sweatshirt. “What do we have here? You went to State? My son is going to State. Maybe ya know ‘em.”
“Afraid I haven’t been back in five years, ma’am.” He cleared his throat. “But my sister told me this was a good place to eat around here.” His elbow lightly touched Erica’s bent arm. Right. She was the sister today.