The Club

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The Club Page 22

by A. L. Brooks


  “Wow. I never… I couldn’t have imagined this would be possible after that time you shot me down.”

  “Well, believe it now, please.” She raised her head a little more to look directly at Lou. “And before you ask, it’s not just about the incredible sex—I’m not just experimenting here, in case that’s what you’re worried about.” She saw the look of relief that quickly flashed across Lou’s face and reached up to kiss her. “Yes, I’ve been struggling with my sexuality for years, but this is all about you. I’ve felt really connected to you since the minute we met. It was part of the problem of coming to terms with this—realising that I could imagine something more with you. Maybe a…relationship. When we talk about music or cooking or any of the other non-work stuff, I just feel…I don’t know, just calm and relaxed and myself. You make me feel like me. The real me.”

  Lou smiled and kissed her tenderly.

  “You are amazing, so confident in saying stuff like that,” whispered Lou. “I…I have been feeling the same way, but it would have taken me months to tell you.”

  Stephanie snorted. “Trust me, this confidence is surprising me as much as you. I didn’t know I had it in me.”

  Lou smiled at her, and Stephanie reached up for another kiss just because she could.

  “Lou, why are you so shy?” Stephanie wrapped her arms tighter around Lou’s slender form.

  “God, I don’t really know. I just always have been. Never been able to say two words to anyone without blushing or having my throat close up in fear.” She paused. “Family stuff didn’t help. But let’s save that for another time.”

  Stephanie cupped Lou’s face and stroked the line of her jaw. She wondered what family drama had played such a big part in Lou’s history. Clearly, it had shaped Lou as much as her own had. A shiver ran through her body. Suddenly, memories of her uncle Terry, and all the anger and bigotry, tumbled through Stephanie’s mind. She forced those thoughts away—nothing like that needed to intrude on what she was sharing with Lou now.

  “You okay? Cold?” Lou reached for the duvet and pulled it higher up their entwined bodies.

  Stephanie shook her head but snuggled closer to Lou anyway.

  “Just…my own stuff.” She kissed Lou’s chest. “Let’s tell each other, one day. I really want to know you, Lou. All of you.”

  “I’d like that too,” replied Lou, her smile wide. “I want you to know me, to know all about me. Just the same as I want to know you. In all the talking we’ve done at the office, I’ve found it so easy to be with you.”

  She suddenly laughed, and Stephanie looked up at her.

  “What?”

  Lou blushed. “I was just thinking about work. About being with you there, you know, now that we’ve done this. How am I supposed to keep my hands off you in the office?”

  Stephanie grinned. “Oh dear, I hadn’t thought of that. Hm.” She ran a hand down the length of Lou’s warm torso. “Maybe we’ll have to find secret places we could meet. I think the back stairway is hardly ever used.” An image of them flashed into her mind—wrapped up in each other on the stairway, pushed against a wall, knowing someone could interrupt them at any minute but unable to stop, fingers seeking wet heat… She swallowed against the arousal that steamrolled across her body.

  Lou shuddered, and goose bumps broke out on her skin underneath Stephanie’s touch.

  “You like?” Stephanie’s voice took on a seductive huskiness she didn’t know she possessed.

  “Mm, very much.”

  Lou placed a hand on Stephanie’s ass and began rubbing slow circles across it. She teased Stephanie, her fingers occasionally dipping down to where her thighs met.

  “You’re like magic,” murmured Lou after a few moments. “I don’t know how you did it, but somehow something about you made me forget all my other crap, made me almost forget how shy I was.” She chuckled. “Well, until you knocked me back, of course…”

  Stephanie poked her in the ribs. “Something tells me I am going to have to make that up to you for a while, huh?”

  Lou smiled slyly. “Maybe…”

  Stephanie grinned, raised herself up on her elbows, and leaned in for a kiss that started softly but quickly became anything but.

  “I think I’ll start now, then,” she murmured and let her tongue drift down Lou’s neck, across her collarbone, and onto her breasts.

  “Oh…good start…”

  * * *

  Stephanie woke at daybreak, desperate for a pee. Lou was fast asleep beside her, and she eased herself gently out from the bed and carefully left the room to go in search of a bathroom. Once she’d taken care of that, she stretched a few times in front of the bathroom mirror, grinning inanely at her own reflection. Oh, my God, what a night. She chuckled—she’d had no idea it was possible to feel that good, that extraordinary, with another human being. Why, oh why, had she waited so long to find this? Well, no point torturing herself about that now—she just needed to be thankful she had found it and with someone as wonderful as Lou.

  She left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. She smiled to herself. She wanted to make breakfast in bed for Lou, surprise her, look after her. She had such feelings of…tenderness towards her. It made her feel all quivery inside. She never knew she could be such a romantic fool.

  The kitchen was a small open-plan space off the living room, with a narrow breakfast bar separating the two areas. She glanced around at her surroundings, noting the cool, minimalist furniture, which didn’t surprise her. Some gorgeous pieces of artwork were sprinkled around the room as well. They were full of warmth and passion, which did surprise her a little. She thought a bit more closely about it, and about the gorgeous woman she had just spent an incredibly passionate night with, and then it made sense.

  She turned back to the kitchen area and quietly set about opening cupboards. She found teabags and mugs and filled the kettle. She’d just discovered a nice crusty loaf in a bread bin and was hunting for a bread knife when the bedroom door crashed open. She yelped with fright and dropped the loaf on the countertop. She whipped round to find a stunned and slightly bedraggled-looking Lou framed in the living room doorway.

  Her mind registered the panicked look on Lou’s face, but the rest of her couldn’t help but notice the magnificent sight of that toned, lean body braced by two outstretched arms gripping the door frame. Muscles flexed, breasts perfectly pert, and legs slightly parted. Wetness pooled between her legs before her brain took charge and told her to deal with the panic Lou was expressing.

  “God, you scared me! Are you okay?” asked Stephanie, gently.

  Lou’s eyes were a little wild as her gaze flitted from Stephanie to the tea things out on the counter and the bread nearby.

  Oh no, I’ve made a massive assumption that it’s okay for me to still be here in the morning, making myself at home. It’s too much…

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I shouldn’t have—”

  “No, no, it’s okay. It’s me, I thought…” Lou looked embarrassed.

  Suddenly the penny dropped. “Oh God.” Stephanie’s voice was still a whisper. “You thought I’d gone?”

  Lou nodded slowly, and Stephanie’s stomach did an excited little lurch. She walked over to Lou, her smile widening as she got closer and Lou started to relax. She leaned in and kissed her, letting her tongue slip teasingly over her bottom lip before murmuring, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

  She gasped as Lou’s mouth suddenly devoured hers, pulling Stephanie close, pressing their breasts together, their bellies, their thighs. Lou lifted her head and placed her hands on Stephanie’s hips.

  “I need you.” Her voice was low and strained, and her breathing was laboured.

  Stephanie’s cunt pulsed. She nodded and gasped again as Lou turned her around and pushed her towards the breakfast bar. Stephanie placed her hands on the granite top and shuddered as Lou pushed her legs apart with her thigh. Lou draped her body over Stephanie, pressing her hard nipples into h
er back, running her hands between Stephanie’s legs from behind to skim lightly through her wetness, teasing her clit with her fingertips. When she pulled those fingertips back to circle the entrance to her cunt, Stephanie groaned and pushed back for more.

  “Yes…oh yes…”

  And Lou didn’t hesitate. She pushed one finger deep inside, as far as she could go, and then pulled back out slowly, driving Stephanie crazy with desire, want, need.

  “Oh God, fuck me,” she pleaded, her voice a rough whisper, startling herself at her use of such coarse language but loving it at the same time.

  Lou groaned and pushed inside her again, two fingers this time, and their groans melded together as Lou fucked her. As Stephanie wantonly bucked her hips, groaning loudly, Lou reached around with her other hand and brought the tip of one finger to rest on Stephanie’s clit. She let Stephanie’s own hip movements dictate the pressure, the speed, and Stephanie worked it, rubbing herself against that single point of contact harder and faster. Lou’s fingers filled her, and she came, crying out, head thrown back and calling out Lou’s name.

  * * *

  Stephanie sat on the sofa, naked, gazing down at the equally naked woman sleeping half under a blanket across her lap. The winter sun glinted brightly through the gaps in the blinds, sending soft shafts of light over Lou’s body.

  It was Sunday morning. Stephanie hadn’t gone home since they’d arrived here Friday night. Saturday had been spent in bed—making love, talking, eating, making love again.

  On Saturday evening, while Stephanie cooked for them, enjoying pottering around Lou’s kitchen, Lou had texted Tania. She had shown the text to Stephanie before sending, and she’d smirked as she read Lou’s words.

  Not sure u’ll believe this & it’s a long story, but Stephanie Jackson is half-naked in my kitchen right now.

  They’d both laughed out loud at Tania’s reply, which arrived moments later.

  WTF ???!!!!!

  Lou had arranged to meet Tania before they started work on Monday, and Stephanie was so pleased—her girlfriend needed a friend like Tania. Her girlfriend. She smiled as the phrase repeated in her brain.

  She stroked Lou’s hair now, gently so as not to wake her, but still needing to touch, even if she was asleep.

  Her phone buzzed on the table beside her. She looked at the caller display and rolled her eyes. Matt. Of course. She hadn’t contacted him since she last saw him Friday night, other than a quick text on Saturday morning to say she was okay and would call him later. Of course, that was before Saturday melted into a haze of delicious lovemaking and time ceased to have any meaning.

  “Well, it’s about time!” snapped Matt when Stephanie swiped to answer.

  She giggled.

  “Did I wake you?” he asked, his tone still strident.

  “No, not at all,” she replied, in her quietest voice, mindful of the gorgeous woman dozing below her.

  “Hey, why so quiet, sweet pea? Are you sick or something?”

  Stephanie chuckled softly. “No, not sick.” She paused. “I’m just keeping quiet so I don’t wake my girlfriend.”

  There was a silence. And then Matt screamed, “Your what?”

  Stephanie smiled from ear to ear.

  Epilogue

  Manchester, present day

  Laura took a deep breath as the cab pulled away behind her. Was this the craziest thing she’d done in her life? She looked up at the dark sky above her, blowing out a breath. She brought her head back down slowly and stared at the black door across the street. It had been such a long time since she’d actively done this, and she still couldn’t shake off the thought that surely she was too old for this game now? Back in the day, when she’d had her flat stomach, her fitness, her cocky confidence, all of this would have been so easy. Too easy, really. She’d regularly gone out and pulled some gorgeous chick for a quick fuck in the dark somewhere.

  But now, at fifty-one years old, it seemed ridiculous to think of doing the same thing with this older, slightly flabbier, certainly stiffer body. And yet… There was a hunger still deep within her; it was what had brought her here. A hunger that had gone unanswered for four years now. Four years she’d been a widow, working her way through her grief, slowly but surely. Having only done the settling down thing at the age of forty, then to have lost her wife to a heart attack a mere seven years later. They’d barely started on their life together; so many plans that never came to fruition. She shook thoughts of Kelly out of her head. She definitely didn’t need to be thinking of her tonight.

  She glanced at her watch; nearly ten. She had no idea what time things warmed up in there, but they’d been open for about an hour now. She doubted she’d be the first through the door on this cool Saturday night. It had been a pleasant enough April day, but the nights were still chilly, and she presumed enough women would seek some…warmth…somewhere like this on such an evening. She hoped, anyway.

  She also hoped the club was as dark as she’d heard; she didn’t want to highlight the fact that she’d probably be one of the oldest women in there. She knew she still didn’t look bad for her years—her face had aged pretty well, and her cropped hair, still bleached blonde, always made her look younger than she was. Still, she figured most of the clientele behind that door would have a good fifteen or twenty years on her.

  She wished a club like this had existed back in her twenties, when all she was interested in was nothing complicated, just physical. And now, years later, she’d discovered it was out there, and she couldn’t help but want to experience it, just to see what it might feel like again after all this time. God knows, after Kelly, she had no mind to get serious with anyone again. They’d have to be someone pretty amazing to get her to give up her heart again. No, once around that ride was enough, but there was life left in Laura, and she wanted to live it. Or relive it.

  A tremor of excitement rumbled quietly through her belly. And lower. Fuck, she hoped this was all it was cracked up to be. Her days of fucking a stranger in smelly toilets and dark alleys were definitely over. The excitement had never quite outweighed the risks in the long run—yes, the naughty thrill of possibly getting caught had always added a certain something to the occasion, but after that night in Brixton, things had never quite been the same for Laura.

  God, she hadn’t thought about that night in a long time, but she’d never forgotten it either. She couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Just those eyes. Jesus, eyes so crystal blue they were etched on her memory forever. She’d never quite forgiven herself for legging it that night either. Yeah, of course the chick said she was okay, but how gutless was it of Laura to just leave her bleeding on a bench in the street at nearly midnight? She could at least have walked her to the Tube.

  Yeah, not her proudest moment. She’d looked out for her at every club and pub she’d visited for the next few weeks, thinking if she saw her, she should at least apologise for walking away. But she’d never seen her again, not once.

  She shook off the memories, pulling her focus back to the black door across the street. “Come on, tiger,” she muttered to herself. “Get yourself in there and see what you can find.”

  She strode across the street and pressed the bell next to a small covered window in the centre of the door. After a few moments, the window shutter slid open, and a woman’s eyes stared out at her from within the small opening.

  Crystal-blue eyes that had been etched into her memory.

  ###

  About A.L. Brooks

  A.L. Brooks currently resides in London, although over the years she has lived in places as far afield as Aberdeen and Australia. She works 9-5 in corporate financial systems and spends many a lunchtime in the gym attempting to achieve some semblance of those firm abs she likes to write about so much. And then promptly negates all that with a couple of glasses of red wine and half a slab of dark chocolate in the evenings. When not writing she likes doing a bit of Latin dancing, cooking, travelling both at home and abroad, reading lots of other write
rs’ les-fic, and listening to mellow jazz.

  CONNECT WITH A.L. BROOKS:

  Website: www.albrookswriter.com

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/albrookswriter

  E-Mail: [email protected]

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