by K L Hughes
“Lay down,” Lizzie said and undid the button on her jeans. “I want to sit on your face.”
Fiona nearly swallowed her tongue, though she wasn’t sure why she found it so shocking. Lizzie had been bold and blunt since the moment they met. No reason for that to change in the bedroom. She stripped off her sweatshirt and tank top, so she was as bare as Lizzie, then dropped onto the edge of the bed and reached for Lizzie’s jeans. She grabbed the waistband to help yank them down over her wide, perfect hips. “I’ve been told it’s a good place to sit.”
Lizzie grinned and pushed Fiona down on her back. “That’s what I was counting on.” Her jeans flopped off her legs with a kick of one bare foot, leaving her in nothing but a pair of plain black cotton panties. Fiona couldn’t stop staring. Every inch of her, from her freckled, dimpled thighs to her ridiculously tiny feet, begged to be touched, kissed, adored. When her underwear hit the floor, Fiona took a deep breath. Her stomach was in knots, tension balling up wherever it could. Her entire body felt like a trigger waiting to be pulled.
The mattress sunk under her as Lizzie crawled on top of her, knees first straddling Fiona’s hips, then higher. Higher still. Her exposed slit swiped over Fiona’s quivering stomach, and Fiona’s breath shot from her lungs as she felt it. Lizzie was soaked.
“Oh God,” Lizzie choked out, nearly stopping right there. She shuddered over top of Fiona then moved further up. She stopped over Fiona’s chest, hovering, and lowered herself onto the valley between Fiona’s small breasts. She rocked her cunt against Fiona’s chest, slicking her skin with the evidence of her desire, and Fiona dug her short nails into her thighs. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”
“I think I have some idea,” Fiona said between shallow breaths. “Come up here. I want to taste you.”
Lizzie planted one knee on each side of Fiona’s head and looked down at her. She bit her lip and cocked a brow. “Well, this is an enticing view.”
“I know what you mean,” Fiona said, though the words left her as barely more than a whisper. Her throat felt tight again. She stared up at Lizzie from between her legs, arms wrapped firmly around her thighs. She took in the sight of her, hovering overhead. Her freckled thighs and soft belly, her breasts heaving with each breath. Thick hair frizzed out around her face as she grinned down at Fiona, and her pupils were so big that her eyes appeared nearly the same color for once—a deep, dark ocean blue. She was stunning. “You ready for this?”
Lizzie answered by lowering herself onto Fiona’s mouth. She stifled her own cry as soon as Fiona’s eager tongue swiped up the length of her, then found its way inside. Her hand dropped onto the mattress above Fiona’s head and dug into the comforter as she rocked against Fiona’s mouth. “Oh fuck, Fiona,” she whispered. “Oh fuck.”
Fiona had never wanted to take her time more than she did in that moment. She wanted to taste every inch of Lizzie, drink her down until she was bone dry and spent, but she knew they didn’t have much time. They were pressing their luck as it was. She reached around Lizzie’s thighs and spread her lips with her fingers, took a deep breath through her nose, the scent of arousal dizzying her in the best way, and licked up the length of her again. When she wrapped her lips around Lizzie’s clit and sucked, one eager, vicious pull, Lizzie’s thighs closed around her ears like a vice. The entire world disappeared into muffled thumps inside her head, only the wet sounds of Lizzie’s pleasure amplified in her ears.
Warm, soft flesh rippled and dipped and sank around her fingers, like taffy molding and folding around Fiona’s hungry grip. She couldn’t stop her hips from bucking up as Lizzie grew wild on top of her, riding her face with abandon. Her own clit was throbbing. She could feel her liquid want dripping down the back of one thigh, and all she could do was hold onto Lizzie as if she might fall off the edge of the earth otherwise. It served her well as Lizzie took the hint, leaning back to balance on one hand. The other shot down Fiona’s pajama shorts and straight to the source of her agony.
She cried out against Lizzie’s soaked flesh as two fingers sank into her and curled, an overwhelming, intoxicating hit to her senses. A high, a relief, all mixed into one skilled stroke. She nearly came on the spot. It wouldn’t take long, and Lizzie was already close. Fiona could tell by the way her thighs were shaking, the way her inner walls clamped down around Fiona’s tongue as if trying to hold onto it. She was close, and the closer she drew, the more Fiona’s body ached to follow.
“Come with me,” Lizzie said, the words muffled but clear enough. “I want you to come with me.”
Fiona didn’t dare free her mouth to answer. Her body would have to answer for her. She pulled Lizzie’s clit into her mouth again and sucked hard. One pull, two.
Lizzie followed her rhythm with her strokes and curls, fucking Fiona as intently as she was being fucked. When she rolled over the edge and hit her climax with a breathless growled curse, Fiona rolled into her own orgasm right after her. Her hips rocketed off the bed, one hand shooting down to wrap around Lizzie’s wrist. She held it tight, pressing Lizzie’s hand as hard against her clit as she could while sucking her into her mouth. Together, they froze at the apex of pleasure, nothing but dizzying, trembling perfection for one incredible moment in time, then slowly, slowly, they rocked back down to earth.
Fiona wiped her mouth on the inside of Lizzie’s right thigh and then planted a kiss there. She helped her slide off of her, shuddering as Lizzie pulled out of her in the process. When they collapsed on the bed, side by side, to catch their breath, Lizzie reached over and patted Fiona’s thigh. “Fiona?”
The tart taste of her coated Fiona’s mouth. She licked her lips, savoring it, and turned her head on the mattress. “Yeah?”
Lizzie tangled their hands together. “Do you have any idea how hot you are?”
“I do have a mirror in my apartment.”
The laugh Lizzie set free was shaky and beautiful. She rolled over and threw a naked leg over Fiona’s hips. “That was the second-best bit of cardio I’ve had in a while.”
Fiona frowned and pinched her thigh. “Second best?”
“Tuesday-morning Zumba classes with Miguel in Lake Balboa Park.” She kissed Fiona’s bare shoulder. “He’s just so enthusiastic.”
They laughed into a kiss, slow and soft. Fiona nuzzled her nose against Lizzie’s and rubbed up and down the length of her now-chilled thigh. “That was definitely the fastest I’ve ever gone from a first kiss to oral.”
“Time crunches will do that for you.” Lizzie kissed her again. “We’ll take our time later. I promise.” Another kiss. “And if you’re interested, I even have a new toy in my suitcase I’ve been dying to try.”
They wrapped fully around each other, as close as they could get, and were content to simply hold one another for a moment. “Sounds perfect,” Fiona said, burying her face in the crook of Lizzie’s neck, in her mess of red hair. Apricots. The scent was quickly becoming a favorite.
“I’m looking forward to getting you out of your pants next time.”
“You aren’t the only one.” Fiona wiggled her hips a bit. “Being this wet and clothed is grossly uncomfortable.”
“Trust me. I know,” Lizzie said. “I’ve been walking around like that for days now thanks to you.”
Fiona squeezed her tighter. “As if you haven’t been gleefully torturing me since I got here.”
“I’ll confess to that.” She sucked Fiona’s bottom lip into her mouth and bit down on it gently. Just a nip that made Fiona’s thighs ache. “But I won’t apologize.” She let go of Fiona’s hand just long enough to swipe the hair from her face. “You’re too beautiful, and I wanted you.” Her fingers trailed down Fiona’s cheek, down her neck, and rested just above her left breast. “I want you.”
The ache, this time, blossomed in her chest. Her heart swelled at the words, and she found she wanted nothing more than to bask in all the new, wi
ld, and wonderful effects this woman so easily had on her.
Lizzie kissed her again, slowly and soundly. “We should get down there.”
The annoyed sigh that dragged its way up from the depths of Fiona’s soul made them both laugh. She buried her face in Lizzie’s neck and hair and savored the feeling of having someone in her arms, of being held in return with such care and want. It had been such a terribly long time. “Just one more minute.”
“Yeah.” Lizzie tangled her fingers in Fiona’s hair and scratched gently at her scalp. “One more minute.”
Chapter 12
“Wait.”
Lizzie stopped Fiona just outside the dining room. Inside, the family spoke loudly, animatedly. Strong opinions with sharp edges tossed about from one end of the table to the next. Lizzie and Fiona pressed themselves to the wall as Lizzie held a finger to her lips. She wanted to hear what they were saying.
“…and she can’t expect us not to be confused.”
“What is there to be confused about?” Michael’s voice took center stage. “She’s gay, Brian. There’s nothing confusing about that.”
“There’s nothing confusing about that? Are you serious? Two hours ago, Fiona was your girlfriend, and now she’s what? Lizzie’s girlfriend? Are you seriously gonna sit here and try to say that’s not confusing as hell?”
Lizzie looked at Fiona and whispered, “Are you my girlfriend?”
Fiona shrugged. She didn’t have a clue. It had only been a few days of flirtation, and they’d only just had their first kiss the night before, their first anything. It was too soon to be thinking about labels.
“I told you, it was all pretend,” Michael said. “Fiona was never my girlfriend. She’s just my friend.”
“That doesn’t make it any less confusing, Mike. It just makes you an ass.”
“Okay.” Sophie’s soft voice cut in. “Stop. We’re not going to start calling each other names. Michael had his reasons to do what he did, and Lizzie had her reasons not to tell us until now.”
“She hasn’t actually told us anything.” Jessie’s voice was sharp, serious. It lacked its usual dry, playful tone. She sounded more upset than anything. “She didn’t want us to know. If she did, she would’ve told us herself. Instead, Mom told everyone for her, and now we know something we weren’t even supposed to know yet.”
Brian scoffed at her. “What’s it matter who told who?”
“It matters because it’s Lizzie’s business. If you had something you wanted to keep secret until you were ready to tell, you’d be pissed if one of us found out accidentally and told everyone, so stop acting like it’s okay that you’re all sitting here talking about something we shouldn’t even know about yet. She should’ve gotten to tell us herself when she was ready, on her terms. That’s how coming out is supposed to work.”
“Oh, and you’re the expert on coming out now? Why’s that? Because you’re on the Internet day and night? You’re up to date on all the new terms and rules we’re supposed to know?”
“Brian, that’s enough.” Charlie Sr.’s voice surprised Fiona. It was severe, all discipline with no wiggle room. It clearly surprised Lizzie, too, because she looked at Fiona with her eyebrows raised.
“I’m just saying. I don’t know why everyone’s getting all pissy at me. I’m not the one who ruined Christmas.”
“No one’s ruined Christmas.”
“I don’t know, Dad. Feels pretty ruined to me.”
“Now, Brian, I said that’s enough. I’ve just about had it up to here.” Charlie Sr.’s voice hit a volume high. “When Lizzie’s ready to come down, she’ll come down, and we’ll talk about all this then. Until then, quiet, all of you, and finish your breakfast. The girls’ll be ready to open presents as soon as Charlie brings them in from outside.”
“She’s not coming down, her or Fiona,” Brian dared to argue. “Michael’s been down here twenty minutes, and neither of them’s come down yet. They’re hiding out, because they don’t want to face us.”
“Well, can you blame them?” Michael asked. “You haven’t shut up about it since I got down here, so no wonder they don’t want to come down.”
“I just think they owe us an explanation. Hell, for all we know, they’ve been carrying on behind all our backs since the day they both got here, but instead of coming down here and owning up to it, they’re just gonna hide out up there all day.”
“Probably because they don’t want to have to deal with shit like this,” Jessie snapped. The sound of a fork clattering against a plate echoed out from the kitchen.
“Jessica Lynn!”
“No, Mom, I’m done. I don’t even want to open presents.” Her slapping footsteps crossed the dining room, making their way toward where Fiona and Lizzie stood hiding. She stepped just beyond them. “You know, gay or not, Lizzie’s our sister. The least you guys could do is not talk about her behind her back like you do everyone else in this stupid town. Especially you, Brian, since we all know you’re screwing a married woman, so you’ve got no place to talk. The rest of you, I don’t even know.”
Fiona stood stiff as a board, watching Lizzie’s expressions run the range of emotions. Humor. Hurt. Disappointment. Surprise. Pride. There was so much to unpack in what they knew, what they didn’t know, what had happened, and what was yet to come. There was so much to address, so many people to talk to, deal with, face. Fiona didn’t envy Lizzie at all, and for the first time since arriving at the McElroy home, she was actually grateful she didn’t have siblings. Clearly, from one issue to the next, you never knew what you were going to get.
Jessie shot out of the dining room like a streak of lightning and immediately stumbled over her own feet at the sight of them hiding behind the wall. Shock riddled her features for a moment, then her eyes began to water. And to think Fiona had suspected she wasn’t even human. But when Lizzie grabbed Jessie and pulled her into a hug, Jessie cried real human tears and squeezed her sister like she was a life raft.
“I’m sorry,” she said as Lizzie rubbed her back and petted her hair. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“I’m sorry for them.” She huffed as if annoyed that her body had dared to experience emotions and pulled back. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and motioned toward the dining room. “They’re being assholes.”
“Eh, just Brian,” Lizzie said and wiped away a streak of moisture Jessie had missed. “And he’s always been an asshole.”
“Grandma said some things, too.”
“Yeah, well, where do you think Brian gets it from?”
Jessie let out a wet laugh and held her sister’s hand. “Are you okay?” She glanced at Fiona. “Are you guys okay?”
The urge to hug her hit Fiona hard, but she restrained herself. Jessie looked like she wanted to vomit just from having to endure feelings and an extended conversation. Instead, she nodded, while Lizzie stroked Jessie’s arm and said, “Yeah, we’re fine.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“You want to get out of here? I can steal Mike’s keys, maybe. His car is closest to the road.”
“I wish, kid,” Lizzie said with a laugh. “I think I’ve got to stay and face the music, though.”
“You want me to go in with you?” Her face made it clear that she wanted anything in the world but to go back in there. “Because I will if you want me to, even though I already stormed out and everything.”
“Nah, you go ahead. Go hide in your room. I know you hate emotions.”
She nodded, her face pinched into an expression that made her look constipated. “I really do.”
“Go on then. Hide for the both of us.” Lizzie ran her hands through her hair and let out a heavy breath. “But I’m definitely going to need to smoke a bowl when this is over. You still have my stash?”
�
�Of course.”
“See? This is why I love you.”
“Yeah, you, too.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. I promise.” She put a hand on Jessie’s shoulder. “I really appreciate you standing up for me in there.”
“You’re welcome, but, like, I know I said I was done, but I really did want that last biscuit, so if you could steal me one, that’d be great.”
Lizzie snorted. “You got it.”
“’Kay. Cool. Thanks.” She glanced at Fiona again. “Don’t hurt my sister. Okay? Because I actually like you, which is seriously rare, so really, don’t ruin it.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Fiona suppressed a laugh when Jessie rolled her eyes and walked off, headed for the stairs. She clearly intended to do exactly as Lizzie had said: hide in her room and wait for all the emotional turmoil to pass. If it passed at all.
Fiona and Lizzie entered the dining room holding hands. It was a daring display that inspired such a grimace on Grandma Sophia’s face that Fiona was briefly concerned she might be having a stroke. “Well,” she said and set her coffee down. Her eyes remained fixed on their hands, and the smoking cigarette in her mouth bounced between her lips as she spoke. “I was waiting to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, but I guess we’ve got our answer now, don’t we?” She shook her head. “You see, son? Why I told you not to let her go off out there?”
“Mom.”
“No. Now, I told you it was a bad idea and look.” She sneered at Charlie Sr., lip curled up in a show of either disgust or disappointment. Fiona didn’t know which, though she imagined it to be both. “It’s just the way it was with Dot and Pat McGowan’s boy. You know their boy, Johnny, moved out to California a few years back, and it wasn’t two months ’fore he was calling her and Pat up, saying he’d decided he was a woman on the inside. I tell you, Dottie like to had a coronary, bless her heart, and Pat wasn’t much better. Swore that boy off soon as he got off the phone. I told Dottie, I said, ‘You need to bring Johnny home straight away, get him ironed out right again.’ But did she? And now, look, he’s running around California in a skirt and popping off at the mouth about the president on that Facebook. She showed me. Charlie, I’m telling you, you need to get a handle on this right now, ’fore it gets out of hand.”