Chapter Ten

Thalia emptied her pockets before she peeled off her sweaty work shirt and pants and dropped them in the washer. In her bra and panties, she stopped off in the kitchen and poured herself a tall glass of ice water. She pressed the cool glass to her forehead. Her nipples peaked against the wet fabric of her bra, and she shivered as she chugged the ice-cold beverage, finishing the glass in three long swallows.

On the way to the bathroom, she stopped and keyed up Blithe’s “Say Your Prayers,” basking in the glory of her voice as she sang. The bass vibrated in her chest as it rumbled through the old-school speakers Thalia had rescued from a thrift store and rewired.

In the bathroom, she turned on the shower before she placed her towel on the countertop. While waiting for the shower to warm up, she stripped off her bra and stepped out of her briefs. She studied her chipped nail polish as she mentally rewound her shit show of a day.

Her trip to Amari’s house had been the one bright spot. Still buzzing from the stolen kiss at Amari’s house, she had arrived at a frantic woman’s home. Over a squalling baby’s cries and the sobs of a five-year-old, the woman explained how her son had flushed at least six Aquanaut action figures down the toilet to send them back to their submarine, not realizing it was a one-way trip. After pulling the toilet, Thalia was only able to recover half of the action figures, and the disappointment on his face had speared her to her core.

And then Thalia had missed lunch to fix a leak in a flooded a basement. The homeowner had insisted on “helping” her, and she really wanted to charge extra as he second-guessed her actions every step of the way. She stepped into the spray and closed her eyes, letting the warm water run over her.

The music changed up. The quiet strains of Antigoni Goni’s guitar playing Duarte soothed her. The happy scent of lemon filled the shower as she lathered up her washcloth and scrubbed away the day. The distant buzz of her phone drew her from her thoughts. After rising her hair one last time, she stepped out of the shower. Thalia draped her curly hair in a microfiber towel before she wrapped a bath sheet around her body, knotting it between her breasts.

In the laundry room, Thalia picked up her phone and thumbed it on. A wave of relief spilled over her after she glanced at the screen. An unknown number scrolled across the screen along with a voice message notification. After she said a quick thank-you to the universe it was not the service, she adjusted her towel and tapped the icon to open her voicemail.

She padded back to the kitchen, grabbed a beer from the refrigerator, and made her way to her bedroom. She placed the beer on the side table and listened to her message. Amari’s husky voice and her request for Thalia to call her back sent a swirl of pleasure through her. She’d been so distracted throughout the day she’d not even thought about Amari, at least not more than half a dozen times.

Thalia pulled the towel free of her body and hung it up to dry. After arranging her pillows, she slid between her cool sheets and leaned back against the headboard. She sipped her beer as she called Amari back.

“Hello? Thalia?”

Thalia rolled the edge of the sheet between her fingers. “Yes.”

“So, are you free next Sunday?”

“I haven’t said yes yet. I want to ask you a few questions.”

“Okay. I don’t promise to answer but you can ask.”

“Fair enough.” Thalia sipped her beer and swallowed quickly before she spoke. “Why did you ditch me at the wedding?”

“Brianna doesn’t do well with loud sounds. The music was loud for her, so she asked to leave.”

“And you couldn’t tell me you needed to leave?”

“No. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Being seen with me?”

“Brianna having a meltdown.” Amari’s voice was clipped.

“Oh, okay. But what the hell was up with you at your house?”

“I don’t know. I’m an idiot?”

“Nope. Not going to buy that one. Try again.” Thalia took another long pull of her drink.

“I was afraid.”

“Better.”

A prolonged silence from Amari had Thalia wondering if she had pushed too hard. Thalia traced her nail over the comforter. “What were you afraid of?”

“I’ve only dated one person since my wife died. It didn’t go well. She got frustrated with Brianna and hit her. That scar over her eyebrow is my fault.” Amari’s voice cracked.

“No, it’s the fault of the asshole who hit her. And we are not even dating. But I get it.”

“Will you go out with me?”

Thalia peeled the label from her beer bottle. “I want to.”

“But?”

“But I think we should take it slow. Let’s meet for coffee. Talk some more, when I’m not bone-tired and naked.”

“You’re naked?” Amari’s voice rumbled through the phone.

“Yes. I had a hell of a day. I’m tired and just got out of the shower. My plan is to crash as soon as I get off this call.”

“So that’s a yes to coffee? Next Sunday?”

“Yes.”

“Is eleven good for you?”

“Perfect.” Thalia rolled the peeled label between her fingertips before she dropped it into the empty bottle.

“Fantastic.”

“And, Amari?”

“Yes?”

“If you change your mind, it’s okay.”

“Why would I change my mind?” Amari’s voice rose in pitch.

“I don’t know. I wanted to give you the option.” Thalia placed the bottle on the bedside table.

“I like talking to you. I wish we’d talked more when I met you the first time,” Amari whispered into the phone.

“Do you regret we spent all our time having sex?” Thalia curled up on her side and held tight to her pillow.

“No. It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

“Do tell.”

“Are you comfortable?” Amari’s voice dropped into the deep register Thalia loved.

“I am. Tell me, what do you think about the most?”

“This is going slow?”

“I can hang up if you want to stop. Do you?” Thalia chewed her lip as she waited for Amari’s response.

“No. Please don’t.”

“So, tell me.” Thalia adjusted her pillow and lay back.

★

Amari pressed the phone tight against her ear as she walked to her bedroom door and closed it softly. The knowledge that Thalia was on the other end of the line, naked and waiting for her to tell her everything she had been thinking of doing to her since their first encounter, sent a wave of wetness to her core, and her clit thickened.

After kicking off her tennis shoes, she turned the knob lock on her bedroom door before she sat on the end of her bed. “I think about how your eyes looked when you asked me to tie you up.

“Just my eyes?”

Thalia’s teasing tone made Amari smile. “I think about the way you greeted me. How you held those scarlet-red ribbons out with both hands, your exquisite breasts. The way your lips parted a tiny bit when I commanded you to lay over my lap so I could spank you first. I think about the way your nails dug into my calf when I marked you. Your ass is particularly divine. I wished I’d brought a paddle.”

“Oh yes. I had the most beautiful marks on my ass for two days. Pity you weren’t around to see them.”

Thalia’s teasing tone ratcheted up Amari’s desire, and she rubbed her hand over the worn jean fabric at the junction of her thighs. “I think about how your nipples hardened under my palms when I kissed you. Your breasts are sublime.”

“Mmm.” Thalia hummed. “Your mouth is heavenly. When you sucked my nipples, I thought I was going to come just from that. Go on. I like this.”

“I’ve thought about how you fit in my arms and clung to me when I carried you to the bed every day since then.” Amari closed her eyes as she remembered their scene and Thalia under her, her eyes glassy with passion. “I’ve thought about the way you sucked my clit. The way you used your lips and tongue to tease me. The sensation of your tongue flicking over the tip. And the way your curls wrapped around my fingers when I held you to me and fucked your face.”

Thalia sighed and then spoke. “You taste divine. I wanted to drown in you.”

Amari inhaled sharply as Thalia’s sigh triggered other memories. “I can’t get the sounds you made in my ear when I fucked you out of my head. Your warm breath teasing against my ear. How hot and thight you were around my fingers. The small noises you made right before you begged me to let you come. The way you pulsed around my fingers. How you wrapped your legs around me and asked for more. I wanted to give you everything.”

Thalia panted into the phone. “You felt so good inside me. So strong when you fucked me. You could have stayed there all day. I wanted more. I wanted you to fist me.” Her voice broke.

“Are you touching yourself? Please tell me you’re touching yourself.” Amari scooted back on the bed and popped the top button on her jeans. She pushed her hand inside her briefs and drew her fingers over her stiff clit.

“I am. Are you?” Thalia husked though the phone. “Do you want me to come for you?”

“Yes. Do it. Let me hear you come again.” Amari held tight to the phone as she pinched and stroked her clit. Thalia’s breathing ramped up, and tiny sounds of pleasure drifted through the phone. Amari gasped and matched the sounds as she rubbed herself.

“Do you want me to come? To come for you?” Thalia’s voice was rough.

“Yes. Now. Come for me. Give it to me,” Amari rasped as she rubbed harder, chasing her own orgasm.

Thalia cried out. Amari squeezed the phone tight with one hand and stroked herself to completion as Thalia’s cries faded. She lay there panting, listening to Thalia’s breathing on the other end of the line.

“You came, too, didn’t you, Ma’am?”

Amari’s breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t ask you to call me that.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.

“No. You didn’t.”

A weighted silence stretched out as Amari searched for the right words to make it better between them.

“Good night.”

The chill in Thalia’s voice spread through Amari, smothering her afterglow. Why? Why had Thalia said that? She hadn’t heard those words in years. She had not used them with anyone, never letting her pick-ups call her anything but “Mistress,” or “Daddy” if they wanted to play that way. She had kept “Ma’am” like a holy oath. And now she had met someone she imagined she might feel safe enough with to use it again and proceeded to fuck it up every chance she got.

She tossed her phone aside and undressed. In the bathroom, she washed her hands and face and brushed her teeth before putting on her sleep shorts and T-shirt. A hollow feeling descended over her body.

She picked up her phone and tapped the screen to send Thalia a message. She opened the app, scrolled to the private message area, and searched for Thalia’s profile. Nothing. She’d either blocked Amari or deleted her account.

Stifling her disappointment, Amari put her phone on the charger before she flipped back the covers. She lay on her side and stared at the dark phone screen as she wrestled with calling Thalia back. To do what? Apologize again? Amari rolled over to her back and pillowed her head with her hands. She traced the tiny swirls of the textured plaster ceiling with her gaze, the familiar pattern soothing.

After Rebecca’s death she had spent a thousand nights staring at the ceiling, searching the endless random patterns for answers, for meaning, for something to help her make sense of the disaster of her wife’s passing. Why had it been Rebecca to suffer and die? Why not Amari? Two years. Two years from the day she was diagnosed, she was gone.

Amari’s gaze settled on the photo of Rebecca and Brianna she kept on her dresser. The sliver frame was tarnished. Taken on a trip when Brianna was six months old, Rebecca was smiling, holding Brianna in her lap. Azure-blue water sparkled behind them as they sat at a table on the boardwalk. Rebecca beamed, alive and full of joy.

Amari pushed aside the other feelings, the anger, the rage that welled up when she let it. The outrageous unfairness of the universe. Rebecca had desperately wanted to be a mother, had lost four babies before Amari birthed Brianna. Then she had only two short years to enjoy Brianna. The emptiness inside Amari had seemed interminable. Nothing had fixed it. Nothing had made her feel better or whole again.

Until Thalia. During the three hours they had spent together in the Glidden House room, her heart had been more whole than it had been since Rebecca’s death. And now she was so balled up she was fucking it up. Amari rolled to her side and plumped her pillow with her fist. She reran all their interactions and conversations in her mind, thinking of all the things she should have said. Tomorrow. She would call her tomorrow. No. Flowers. She would send flowers and then call.