Meg wished Fiona was excited about becoming a mother. Although she had no reason to believe she’d be asked to help, part of her was happy Fiona hadn’t already finished the room. Maybe she could be a part of it. Stop it. She didn’t need to get her hopes up like that.
She cleared her throat. “When’s your due date?”
“January 27.”
All of the months she had missed with Fiona immediately caught up with her. She wondered who had gone to all the doctor appointments with her, and who had been in the room with her when she heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time.
“Have you taken any ultrasounds?”
“I have some pictures in my room, the final stop in our grand tour,” Fiona said.
She followed Fiona across the hall, but she was reluctant to enter Fiona’s bedroom. She stood in the doorway and looked in. The furniture was the same, though the new room was much larger. A hand squeezed her heart when she recognized the comforter on the bed. How many times had it covered them? She had a visceral urge to pull Fiona down upon it. Her thoughts began to wander to when she used to lie next to Fiona, skin-to-skin, kicking off its soft weight during the New York summer. She’d appreciate it more when there was snow falling outside.
“Meg?” Fiona’s fingers touched her hand, which was on the footboard of Fiona’s sleigh bed. Somehow, she had moved into the room. She looked up from their hands and was riveted by Fiona’s hazel eyes. “Where did you go?” Fiona asked.
“Thinking about how warm feather comforters can be in the winter.” It was partially true. Fiona’s eyes told her she had already guessed the full truth.
“I was telling you how much I love the painting.” Her eyes followed Fiona’s gaze to the wall above the bed, where the painting Meg had left at the door to Fiona’s apartment hung.
Suddenly, she was back in her room in New York, painting feverishly. It was the middle of the night. A blank canvas stood before her, and all she wanted was to capture the look of Fiona happy. If she could paint it, she could make it happen, she thought, while images of them together shuttled through her mind. But the perfect expression eluded her as she tried to define Fiona’s happiness with her brush. She had almost given up. She was tired, with morning around the corner, when the memory of Fiona in the park had suddenly flooded her mind. Fiona’s head was thrown back, her eyes were closed, and a smile played across her mouth. It was that moment, when Fiona opened her eyes and looked at her. Joy had vibrated through her. That was it. Meg had finished the portrait as the sun started to ignite the neighborhood with its signature glow. When she stepped back from the canvas she had known she had captured it.
She stared at the painting. She wanted to look at Fiona, but it was almost too much to bear.
“Mrs. Rickles found it outside the old apartment a week or so after I left and she sent it out to me.”
“I hadn’t known you’d moved yet.” She didn’t mean to make it sound like an accusation.
Fiona faced her. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to not run to you, Meg. The day I left was one of the hardest days of my life. The only thing comforting me was knowing I’d be closer to you.”
Meg had so many questions. She let her eyes move from the painting to Fiona. It hurt to see the pain in Fiona’s eyes. She saw a stack of photos in Fiona’s hand. “Are those the ultrasound pictures?”
Fiona handed the stack to Meg, who moved over to the bedside lamp and sat on the edge of the bed to look at them. Fiona sat next to her and watched over her shoulder. The closeness was almost more than she could bear.
“Wow. It’s amazing how much detail they can get.” She’d seen Claudia’s ultrasound images, which were just as detailed. But these were Fiona’s.
“Yeah, it’s crazy.” Fiona smiled.
“Oh my God. I see a foot.” She peered at the sepia colored photos, and glanced over her shoulder at Fiona. Fiona’s body heat distracted her, although Fiona didn’t touch her. She looked back at a photo. “It sort of looks a little like an alien, but you can definitely see parts. There’s all five toes. And there’s the ankle.” She looked up incredulously. “Aw! Look at the hand all balled up in front of… the face? And the little mouth. It definitely has your chin. What’s this one?” She squinted at it. “It kind of looks like… wait… it’s a girl! You’re having a girl. Oh, Fiona. She is right now inside of you listening to this conversation.” She pulled the photos to her chest. “I bet you can’t wait to hold this little girl in your arms.” She was surprised at her excitement. She had never been a huge baby fan. She loved her new cousins, and she held them and cooed at them out of genuine affection when she was around them. But babies in general weren’t her thing.
She snuck a glance at Fiona and saw she was crying. Fiona tried to smile, but it trembled and Meg’s heart broke.
“Oh, baby. What’s wrong?” She put the pictures down and pulled Fiona into her arms. She smoothed her hair. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
Fiona clung to her and cried. As she pressed her cheek to Fiona’s, Fiona’s tears wet both their cheeks.
“Did I say something wrong?” She rubbed small circles on Fiona’s back and kissed her wet cheek.
Fiona sighed. “Just the opposite.”
“Why the tears then?”
“I didn’t realize how much I needed to share this with you.”
“Have you been doing this all alone?”
“No. Maureen went to the first appointment with me before I left New York. She’s come out for a couple since I’ve been here. Otherwise, either Katie or Danny goes with me.”
“I’m sure they’re as amazed as I am.”
Fiona waited a beat before responding. “It’s different with you.”
She couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than she loved Fiona, and she wished she could tell her. All she could hope was Fiona could feel it in her touch and see it in her eyes. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” She leaned her forehead against Fiona’s.
“I think I do.” Fiona cupped the side of Meg’s face with her hand. Her thumb gently stroked her cheek. Their lips were a breath apart. “I love you, Meg. I always have.”
The words were a warm rush against Meg’s soul. She took in the meaning of Fiona’s words and cradled Fiona’s face between her open palms. “I love you, too. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long. I love you so much, I think it might destroy me,” she whispered and gazed into the hazel eyes she saw every time she closed her own.
Fiona bridged the gap between them and kissed her. Her lips were as soft as Meg remembered, sending a rush of heat throughout her body. Her lips parted and she tasted the mouth she had craved for months. The kiss deepened. An urgency of desire took over and an aching need to express her love flamed through her. She kissed Fiona’s neck. The rapid pulse beat beneath her lips and her passion soared. When Fiona’s hand slid under the hem of her shirt, she held the back of Fiona’s head and lowered her to the bed, kissing her, feeling her, wanting her. She wasn’t thinking, only doing. It felt so right to be in Fiona’s arms again.
Fiona’s lips were on her throat and her voice was low, causing shivers to ripple down Meg’s back. “God, Meg, I want this. I want you.” It sent flares of desire to her center. “I want you so bad, but…” When she heard the word “but”, Meg stopped moving and dread seized her heart. She’d lost control. Out of breath, she touched her forehead against Fiona’s, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.
Fiona stroked her back. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
She shifted so Fiona’s leg wasn’t pressed against her center. She was trying so hard to be respectful, but her body was well beyond its limits of control. Fiona had kissed her, true, but they hadn’t talked about being together again. What about all the things that had made her run away before? And they needed to talk. Fiona had hurt her, and she needed to protect her own heart. All of that needed
to be acknowledged before they got carried away physically. She tried to gently pull herself off Fiona, but Fiona held her close.
“I’m scared, Meg. God knows my heart wants to be with you, and my body is screaming to keep going, but my head is telling me we need to slow down.”
Meg’s body was on fire, but she’d heard Fiona. They both needed a little time. She moved Fiona’s arms and rolled to her back.
Fiona rose up onto her elbow. Her eyes were soft. “I’m sorry.” Fiona stroked her cheek and kissed her. “Just a little more time.”
Meg knew it was the right thing to do. “I totally get it. We got a little carried away.” She pulled Fiona’s head to rest upon her chest.
They lay there tangled up together for a few more minutes. Meg wasn’t ready to let go—she fought with her body’s need to seek more intimate contact. She was slightly ashamed about her single-minded desire. Fiona’s heart was far more important to her than physical release, but her body seemed to have one focus. She knew it would be fast for her, all she needed was a little…
“Are you ready for dinner?” Fiona’s voice was low, and she knew Fiona was wrestling with her own desire. It was dangerous for them to stay on the bed like this. “The bread should be done by now.”
“Sure.” She tried to make it sound light, but she reluctantly rolled away. Once up, she helped Fiona, grinning at the floundering induced by the baby bump. A few minutes earlier, that roundness hadn’t seemed so in the way. “I’m going to use the bathroom first. I’ll be down in a minute.”
Fiona smiled and started down the hall. Meg wondered if the look Fiona gave her was because she knew what she was about to do. It wasn’t what she wanted, but if she had to give Fiona the space she needed and remain in the house with her, she had to do something about the throbbing between her legs.
She shut the door and splashed a little cold water on her face to see if it would help, but she couldn’t stop thinking about Fiona’s lips against her throat and Fiona’s thigh pushed firmly between her own. She shut her eyes and slid her hand down the front of her pants. Even with a belt, they were loose on her. She slid her fingers beneath the waistline of her panties and a shuddering throb pulsed between her legs as she spread them a little more and skimmed the wetness coating her swollen clit. She was so ready. An image from the summer of Fiona lying naked across the bed filled her mind and her fingers stroked more firmly…
“Meg?”
It was almost a whisper. At first, she thought the voice was part of her memory, but the light tap on the door told her otherwise. She pulled her hand out of her pants. When she opened the bathroom door, Fiona stood there with an expression she had seen before. Raw longing and fierce desire met her eyes. A current of anticipation shot down her spine.
They stood less than six inches apart and she watched Fiona’s chest rise with each breath. Goose bumps rose across her skin.
Fiona grabbed her hand and brought it to her mouth. She saw Fiona’s pupils dilate as she took a finger into her mouth. With heavy-lidded eyes, Fiona gently sucked her finger, then gently raked her teeth across the tender skin of the knuckle. The throbbing in Meg’s core turned into a slow, convulsive roll. She was about to explode merely from the sensation of the warm, wet feel of Fiona’s mouth around her finger. Fiona slowly withdrew the finger from her mouth causing a gush of fluid to drench Meg’s panties.
“I had a feeling you were going to take care of things yourself,” Fiona said in a low voice. She closed the inches between them, kissing her with the intensity of a starving woman. Meg returned the kiss with equal fervor, their mouths working feverishly as Fiona walked her back into the bathroom and pressed her against the countertop. The thoughts that had stopped them before, as noble as they were, were no longer guiding them; their raw passion was. Meg’s hands were everywhere and she began to remove Fiona’s clothing with blind abandon. No patience was wasted on buttons. She unceremoniously yanked Fiona’s shirt up and over her head before Fiona lifted Meg’s shirt and moved aside the fabric of her bra to take an erect nipple into her mouth. Fiona’s lips wrapped around her sensitive skin, her teeth grazing it before she sucked greedily on the firm flesh. A jolt of electric pleasure sped directly to Meg’s clit. She gasped and arched back involuntarily holding Fiona’s head to her chest. Fiona moved to the other nipple, while impatiently unbuckling and unzipping Meg’s pants before pushing them down to her thighs. When Fiona’s fingers slid into her, Meg’s muscles pulsed rhythmically. She’d been on the verge and she came instantly. Her scream of pleasure surprised her. She couldn’t have muted it if she’d tried. All she could feel was Fiona inside of her and she came again, and again, as Fiona continued to thrust into her, until she slumped against the cold marble behind her, unable to take any more pleasure. She wrapped her hand around Fiona’s wrist and gently stilled her. Fiona wore a victorious smile before she kissed her mouth.
“God, Meg. You are so beautiful when you come for me,” groaned Fiona next to her ear. The vibration of Fiona’s voice traveled down her spine making her shudder. Her legs were rubber.
She took Fiona’s head between her hands and kissed Fiona hungrily while she caught her breath, tracing a trail of kisses down her neck. Fiona’s full breasts arched against her and she licked one of her nipples.
“I need to be inside of you, Fiona. I’ve missed you so much.”
Fiona took a step back, capturing one of her wandering hands, and pulled her into the bedroom. As she walked, she stepped out of the jeans that were now around her ankles. Meg pulled her shirt over her head and threw it to the floor and Fiona pushed her own pants off. By the time they entered the bedroom, they were both naked. The sight of Fiona’s unencumbered figure was breathtaking. Her body had grown absolutely sensual with the swell of her belly and the added heaviness of her breasts. Meg’s desire surged again as she ran her hands across Fiona’s soft skin.
At the side of the bed, Fiona pushed Meg onto her back, leaving her legs dangling over the side of the mattress. In a smooth motion she would never have expected from a woman so pregnant, Fiona was straddling her. The wet heat of Fiona’s center pressed against her belly, and she cupped Fiona’s swaying breasts as she rocked above her. Fiona held herself above Meg with one arm, and with the other took one of Meg’s hands from her breast, thrusting it between her legs, hungrily pushing Meg’s fingers inside herself. Meg surged in response to the feel of the silken folds as they slid around her fingers. The rhythmic compression fluttering around her fingers told her Fiona was close, and she hooked her fingers forward, applying pressure to Fiona’s inner wall. Meg knew a little more pressure would send Fiona over the edge, so she alternately pressed and eased up on the spot to keep Fiona there for as long as she could. Fiona’s grind against Meg’s hand became frantic, the swell of her clit pushing against the sensitive skin of Meg’s inner wrist.
Unable to look away, Fiona kept her eyes fixed on Meg’s as the moment of her release grew inevitable.
Fiona bit her lip as she almost always did right before she came, and Meg gently pinched the nipple she held. Fiona groaned and threw her head back, arching into Meg’s hand, a rush of moisture filling it as Fiona came. The warm fluid dripped onto Meg and it trickled down, blending with her own. Her sensitive clit twitched in response. She spread her legs and Fiona’s fingers slipped inside of her as Fiona’s grind became more intense and she rode out her orgasm. Fiona released a keening half-scream as she cried out Meg’s name. At the sound of her name crossing Fiona’s lips, Meg’s orgasm exploded through her. Fiona froze, arched above Meg, rigid with her orgasm as her muscles fluttered around Meg’s fingers. When the contractions began to subside, Fiona carefully eased herself from Meg’s hand and curled up next to her, pulling Meg’s arm tightly around her.
Trembling from emotion more than the exertion, Meg pulled Fiona toward her, and without warning, began to cry.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Fiona asked. She look
ed frightened when she pulled back to look at Meg, but Meg buried her face into Fiona’s neck and sobbed. Fiona held her tightly, gently brushing the damp hair from her face. “It’s okay, honey. I’ve got you. I’m not going to let you go.”
Several minutes later, Meg pulled herself together and they lay as one, their legs tangled, Fiona humming in her ear.
“Hey, Molly Malone is my song,” Meg teased with a sniff, when she finally trusted herself to speak.
Fiona ignored the teasing and stroked her face. “What happened, baby? Are you okay?”
Meg took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I think I got a little overwhelmed. Everything welled up inside.” She stopped for a second, and tried to fend off the tears threatening to fall again. She cleared her throat and went on. “I don’t want to lose you again. But it’s not my decision. It’s scary, you know?”
“I know,” Fiona said, pulling Meg closer to her. “I guess we should talk about it.”
“I don’t want to push you,” Meg said, but she needed to know if this was a new beginning or another goodbye.
Fiona shivered. “Let’s get under the covers. I want to keep you close.”
Once they were warm under the covers, Fiona began to speak. “I’ve been seeing a therapist.”
Meg caressed Fiona’s arm, but didn’t say anything.
“I went to the therapist I saw after my parents died. Right after I deserted you in Seattle—”
Meg tried to interrupt her. “You didn’t desert me—”
“Yes. I did.” Fiona’s tone was firm. “You have every right to feel abandoned. It was something I had to do at the time, but I take full responsibility for disappearing without a word. I was a coward.”
“Sounds like therapy talk to me.” Meg said. “But, I get it. I never felt like you did anything you didn’t have to do.”
“Listen to you trying to make me feel better, but it doesn’t.” Fiona gave a grim smile.
Without a Net Page 38