This kiss was faster. Hillary’s hand slid under her shirt, but she didn’t move it from its spot over Amara’s belly button. Amara wrestled with the fact that she wanted it to move north and south at the same time, to touch her in places no one ever had before. Hillary’s tongue demanded entrance, and Amara greeted it with her own. Arousal pooled between her legs as Hillary’s hand finally moved to rest on, and then grip, her hip. Amara wanted more. By the sounds Hillary was making – that were the sweetest thing she’d ever heard – Hillary wanted more, too.
“Wow,” Amara whispered to herself between kisses.
“Wow?” Hillary pulled back to smile down at her.
“Did I say that out loud?” Amara covered her mouth with her hand in embarrassment.
“Did you mean it?”
Hillary’s hand remained on her stomach as her thumb rubbed small circles from its position.
“Yes, but I’m a little embarrassed you heard that.”
“You shouldn’t be. I feel the same way.” Hillary leaned down and pecked her lips gently.
“Really?”
It wasn’t that Amara didn’t trust her. It was that Hillary had kissed many women before, and had done much more than that. What they’d shared just now had been amazing for Amara, but she’d expected it would be old hat to Hillary.
“Yes, really,” Hillary returned and pinched her hip playfully.
She rolled off to Amara’s side. They both stared at the ceiling for a moment before Hillary reached out her hand to link it with Amara’s between their bodies. They remained that way for a few more minutes. Amara thought her heart might eventually calm down, but it continued to beat so loudly, she was certain Hillary could hear it.
“Why’d you stop? Because of my ‘wow’ comment?”
“That was one of the reasons.”
“There was more than one?” Amara turned her head to the side.
Hillary did the same and slid closer, separating their hands so she could instead wrap it around Amara’s back as before.
“Yes, because I want to do more.”
“Oh,” Amara replied with disappointment. “Sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me for that,” Hillary insisted. “Ever,” she added and slid a little closer. “I’m not ready for that either. I’d like us to get to know one another better first.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“Would you be saying that if I’d been with a woman before?”
Hillary propped herself up on one elbow and looked down.
“Yes,” she said definitively. “I’ve had sex on a first date exactly one time that I can remember, and after a second date – maybe once or twice; but I normally like to wait. I waited with my ex, Neil, for about a month.”
“Neil?” Amara lifted an eyebrow.
“A guy I dated a while ago. It was before Caroline.”
“Guy?”
“I guess I haven’t told you yet...” Hillary lowered her head and shook it. “I’m bisexual. I’ve dated men and women.”
“Oh.”
Hillary sat up for some reason, causing Amara to have to move back into a sitting position herself.
“Is that a problem?” Hillary asked with intense concern all over her face.
“No,” Amara stated. “No, it’s not. I guess I just hadn’t considered that a possibility.”
She hadn’t, in fact, considered that Hillary might be bisexual. She hadn’t necessarily assumed Hillary was gay or straight, either. It was just a third possibility that she had very little understanding of and, therefore, it hadn’t been top of her mind.
“You hadn’t considered it a possibility?”
“I’ve dated guys; only guys,” she said to help back up her statement and realized that probably didn’t sound right. “I hadn’t thought about it. I thought you might be gay, I guess, because I kind of hoped you were.”
“You hoped?”
Amara moved to sit up, and Hillary matched her posture, leaving a little space between them. Amara noticed Hillary’s expression read concerned, and she smiled shyly at the woman to try to offer comfort.
“I hoped, and I also didn’t at the same time; I don’t know how to describe it.”
“Can you try?”
“I’ve been dealing with these feelings for so long… But I always kind of hoped they’d go away. My father would introduce me to eligible bachelors after church on Sundays or at charity fundraisers. I’d talk to some of them for a few minutes and I’d feel absolutely nothing. They were nice enough, of course, but there wasn’t a spark or anything that would indicate attraction.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I went on dates mainly at my father’s behest, and only when the men did the asking. Most of them never made it past a first date, and I’d make up some excuse to tell my father why it wouldn’t work.”
“Like what?” Hillary questioned with a slight smile.
“One man lost his wife to cancer and had two young children with his previous wife. I told my dad I wasn’t ready for that, and he understood. Another lived in Modesto and made the commute to work in the city only two days a week, working from home the rest of the time. I told my dad the distance would be an issue. Another was a doctor who worked ridiculous hours… You get the idea.”
“And your dad hasn’t caught on?”
“Mark and my dad are close. They work together now. They had this plan for Mark and me. My dad was a little surprised by the breakup, but I don’t think he thinks it’s because–” Amara stopped when she realized what she was about to say out loud for the first time. She looked down and then back up at Hillary, who wasn’t about to complete that sentence for her, but – instead – took one of Amara’s hands and brought it to her lips. Hillary kissed the pad of each finger while Amara watched and gulped. “Because I’m gay.”
“Is that the first time you’ve said it out loud?” Hillary asked as she cupped Amara’s hand to her own cheek and slid a little closer.
“Yes.”
“How does it feel?”
“Terrifying,” she admitted.
Hillary chuckled and placed a hand on Amara’s cheek just as Amara dropped the hand that Hillary had pressed to her own face earlier.
“I understand.”
“What was it like for you?” Amara asked as Hillary stroked her cheek.
“Coming out?” Hillary asked. Amara nodded her reply. “It was different for me,” she began. “My parents aren’t religious. My mom obviously had her problems; I don’t think she cared back then either way. She didn’t seem to notice anything unless it was something I’d done wrong in her eyes. In a way, bisexuality is easier for some parents to take, I think. I’ve done some research for my work and interviewed parents with bisexually-identified children. It’s like they can still hold out hope that their child will fall in love and marry an opposite-sex partner.”
“Are your parents like that?”
“I think so.” Hillary shrugged with one shoulder. “I don’t know that it’s a conscious decision on their part, though. Ultimately, I think parents want their children to face as little resistance in this world as possible. Being with someone of the same sex only makes that more difficult.”
“And they’ve met your exes?”
“Men and women, yes. They never treated them differently; or at least not that I noticed.”
“And if you married a woman? Assuming you’d want to get married, I mean.” Amara looked down at the hand Hillary held in the space between their laps.
“I would like to get married. As progressive as I like to think that I am, I still want all those things. I’d like to find someone to settle down with, have a family with, and grow old with. My dream is that I continue teaching in the city, and when kids become part of the picture, I take a job just outside, maybe at a smaller school. I wouldn’t mind taking a sabbatical for a year or so just to take care of the kids, or even travel with my spouse before the kids. I want a house and a ni
ce life for myself and for whomever I decide to share it with.”
“That sounds nice.” Amara smiled at Hillary who had an expression of admiration on her face, and it was directed at her.
“What do you want?” Hillary asked and moved to lie down again.
She opened her arm wide, inviting Amara to lie on her chest. Amara complied. She snuggled into the crook of Hillary’s neck and wrapped her arm around Hillary’s torso, keeping it over her shirt, despite her desire to slide it under and savor Hillary’s skin.
“I don’t know,” Amara replied honestly after a moment. “I used to hope these feelings would go away, because I didn’t want to deal with them. I didn’t want them to be real.”
“Then, why the café?” Hillary ran her fingers up and down Amara’s arm.
“What do you mean?” She squinted her eyes, despite knowing Hillary couldn’t see her expression from her position.
“You said you’d hoped I was gay. You kept coming back to the café every week.”
“True, but I never got up the courage to talk to you.”
“You ended things with Mark, and you came back to the café after.”
“And you came up to me, Hillary. Trust me, I’m not a brave person.”
“But you came there knowing that any time you did, I could suddenly walk up to you and ask you out. You kept coming back and hoping I was gay because it meant that there was a chance that something might happen between us. I know that because I did the same thing.” Hillary paused for a moment, and the fingers on Amara’s skin also paused. “We kept coming back to one another, Amara. We’d never spoken or had any indication that this could work, but we kept coming back. My friends used to give me such a hard time about you.” She chuckled.
“I’d noticed them turn and look at me every now and then.” Amara laughed as well.
“They wanted me to ask you out a long time ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because I wasn’t that brave either,” Hillary confessed, and her fingers began to move again. “But I think we do that with each other.”
“Do what?”
“I think we make each other brave,” Hillary stated.
That sounded nice, Amara thought as her eyes drifted closed.
CHAPTER 18
“Hillary?” A whisper came from behind Hillary.
Her eyes were still closed, but she could tell it was early. Hell, it was way too early for her to be awake. Her body fought with her for a moment, and her brain was only half-focused while the other half was still trying to fall back to sleep when she heard her name whispered again. Then, she remembered: Amara had slept over the night before. Hillary’s eyes shot open. She was facing the window. Amara was behind her, with an arm draped over her waist. Amara’s lips were placing soft and sweet kisses to Hillary’s neck, which – Hillary hadn’t found the opportunity to tell Amara – was extremely sensitive, and caused her body to tense slightly and a pulse to start building between her thighs.
“Good morning,” Hillary managed to get out, and Amara stopped the kisses against her skin. “No, don’t stop,” she implored. “That feels good.”
“I’m sorry.” The woman tightened her grip on Hillary’s waist. “I have to go.”
Hillary turned onto her back to face her and asked, “What time is it?”
“A little after five.”
“Five?” She glanced up at Amara and stopped thinking for a moment. “You’re beautiful.”
It was true. Amara’s hair was down and framed her face. It was mussed, but the after-sex kind of mussed, and despite them not having sex the night before, Hillary couldn’t stop thinking about how it might look even more perfectly messy after they did. Amara’s eyes were wide, and she was awake. Her smile was small but perfect, and her neck was situated just above Hillary’s lips. She only needed to lift her head a few inches to place a kiss there, which she did. Her hand went behind Amara’s head and pulled the woman closer in the process. Her lips reattached themselves to Amara’s neck. Amara’s moan wasn’t audible, but Hillary could feel the vibrations from it against her own lips.
“Hill?” Amara whispered out.
Hillary’s lips moved to Amara’s ear, which she sucked into her mouth, nibbled a little, and then let it go before moving to Amara’s jawline.
“Yeah?”
Her lips found Amara’s before Amara could answer, and it took no time for their kiss to grow heated. Both of Hillary’s hands moved to Amara’s hair and slid easily into it, loving the feel of the auburn locks between her fingers. Amara’s mouth was hot against her own, and their tongues found one another instantly. Hillary worried for a second that maybe this was too much for the woman above her, but before she could slow to a stop, Amara was climbing on top of her. Amara’s lips moved to Hillary’s neck, and she wasn’t applying those soft and sweet kisses like before. She wasn’t merely applying kisses either. Her tongue slid down to Hillary’s collarbone and then back up to her ear, where she repeated the move Hillary had just used against her earlobe and sucked it into her mouth.
Hillary let it go a moment later. Amara’s hand slid under her shirt. Hillary gasped as it moved quickly to grasp her breast. Her eyes shot open when Amara began toying with her already erect nipple. Then, Amara’s mouth returned to hers and closed over it. Before Hillary knew it, her own hands were sliding down Amara’s body and gripping at the hem of the woman’s shirt. She stilled them there, waiting for Amara to stop her; waiting for her to pull away and say they needed to slow things down. But Amara didn’t do that.
“It’s okay,” Amara said when she pulled away from Hillary’s lips. “Take it off.”
“I shouldn’t,” she replied and lifted her head to place her lips against Amara’s neck. “We should probably–”
“I don’t want to,” Amara replied and pulled up so she could look down at her. “Hill, I don’t want to.”
“Are you sure? A minute ago, you were about to leave.”
“I was going to try to get home before my dad noticed I was missing,” Amara revealed as she stared down at Hillary. “I was being stupid. I was scared about having to explain if he noticed that I hadn’t slept at home.”
“And now?” Hillary asked.
“And now, I don’t care.” Amara smiled down at her. “I want to be myself. I can be myself when I’m with you.”
Hillary smiled widely as she met Amara’s gorgeous eyes that were now dark with desire. The woman’s breaths were coming in short bursts from their activities. Hillary could feel Amara’s arms shaking from having to hold herself above her. Amara’s hand was still covering her breast, but she’d stopped her movements against Hillary’s nipple. Hillary thought about telling her that they could continue to take things slow. As she stared into those eyes, she thought about what the right thing was to do in this situation. She thought of her research into sexuality, and how it sometimes touched on the act of sex itself. She knew that, at this point in their activity, it was more likely the hormones were contributing to Amara’s words and actions; and she didn’t want the woman to regret anything. But Amara was also so beautiful and so sexy as her hot breath continued to cover Hillary’s face in the best way. She watched as Amara leaned up, straddling her hips, and lifted her own shirt above her head, leaving her nude from the waist up.
“Wow,” Hillary whispered.
Amara’s vulnerability was on full display, but only for a moment before her smile returned. The desire in her eyes was clear. The need in her heaving chest and erect, perfectly pink nipples was more than evident. Hillary’s hands were on Amara’s hips; she moved them back and forth more on accident than anything. But when Amara responded by repeating the motion, Hillary gasped out. The woman was sliding back and forth over her stomach, wearing only a pair of pajama pants and whatever she had on underneath them. Any amount of confusion about what she should do in that moment disappeared as she watched Amara’s full breasts bounce slightly with the movement.
In no time at
all, she flipped Amara and hovered over the woman before reconnecting their lips. Amara’s hands were on her back, under her shirt, and Hillary couldn’t wait another moment before pressing their skin together. She lifted up enough to allow Amara to yank more than pull her shirt off, lowering herself back down right after that. Their breasts pressed together, and before she could utter a sound herself, Amara gasped as their nipples grazed. Hillary lowered herself to take one of those nipples into her mouth. She sucked gently at first while she reached for the other breast and squeezed it. As she used her tongue to circle around Amara’s nipple, her hand began sliding down the woman’s abdomen and reached the waistband of her pants. Hillary tugged gently down and stopped, in case Amara objected. When she didn’t, Hillary pulled a little harder. Just as she had them down below Amara’s hips, someone’s phone rang.
“Oh, God,” Amara said.
Hillary wasn’t sure if that was because of what she was doing to her or because of the distraction of the phone that must have been somewhere on Amara’s bedside table.
“Just ignore it,” Hillary suggested, returning her focus to Amara’s breasts. She switched nipples, and the woman gasped. “Wait.” She lifted up slightly. “Who’s calling you this early?”
“It’s my dad.” Amara closed her eyes tightly, and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “He’s probably wondering where I am.”
The woman lifted herself up, which caused Hillary to sit back on her heels. She watched Amara move over and reach for the phone.
“He’ll just keep calling,” she said to Hillary before answering and putting the phone on speaker. “Hey, Dad.”
“Amara, where are you?” her father asked.
“I stayed at a friend’s place in the city last night,” she replied without meeting Hillary’s eyes.
“You didn’t leave a note or let me know.”
“I’m an adult, Dad. I don’t need to leave you a note or a message. And it’s not even six in the morning.”
“I woke early for a prayer and thought I’d see if you wanted to join me. I went to the house, and you weren’t there. I got worried when I didn’t see your car in the drive.”
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