Janice hurriedly retrieved an unopened bottle of wine from the rack next to the fridge and then struggled to uncork it. Her hands had begun to tremble on the frenzied drive home from Maurine’s and they didn’t appear to be calming anytime soon. She cursed loudly as she lost control of the bottle and nearly dropped it on the floor. She stilled, with a firm grip on the wine and forced herself to take a few deep breaths, in order to get control of herself. The breathing helped some, but her mind and heart kept racing just as they’d done when she’d peeled out of the drive back at Maurine’s with those beautiful, booming fireworks shaking the earth and Carla Sims shaking her entire being.
The cork popped on the wine, startling her and causing her to lose her balance from having pulled so hard to free it. She quickly righted herself and filled a glass and took a few deep swallows, praying it would help to ease the aching and anguish currently torturing her. But her mind kept returning to Carla and the mystery woman she’d been laughing with. The woman who’d been touching her, behaving like they knew each other well, like they were familiar. Too familiar. Who was she? She’d never seen her before and neither had Maurine or Erica. And her looks hadn’t exactly helped matters any. She was gorgeous and fit with a short, stylish haircut that Janice couldn’t help but let lead her to wonder about her sexuality.
She drank as she thought about Carla possibly knowing the woman on an intimate level. Her stomach tightened and a painful churning began, just as it had when she’d watched Dakota all but drool over Carla right in front of her. Carla hadn’t had any interest in Dakota and she’d quickly run her off, that much she knew. But Carla had appeared to be behaving differently with the mystery woman. She hadn’t run her off. And she wasn’t acting disinterested or standoffish. It had been quite the opposite from her viewpoint.
She fought bending to quell the ache in her gut, knowing full well what was happening but still battling like hell to admit it. She was way too old to feel something as ridiculous and silly as jealousy. Especially since she’d never been jealous before. Over anyone. So, it couldn’t suddenly be hitting her now. Why would it? No, it didn’t make sense.
She swallowed down the reason and truth with more wine, doing her best to drown them, to drown out even the slightest thought that her feelings for Carla were stronger than any she’d ever had for anybody else and that was why she was suddenly experiencing things like jealousy. She finished the glass, flooding that relentless and pesky truth with alcohol until it was saturated enough to ease a bit and allow a soothing warmth to spread through her. There. That was a little better. The world wasn’t ending. Even if Carla had interest in another woman. Life would go on.
It would.
Right?
She grabbed both the glass and the bottle and crossed into the living room to head for her bedroom, intent on going to bed to submerge any and all doubts in the wine until she was drunk enough to fall asleep. Hopefully, she would be deep in a peaceful dreamland well before Carla came home. If she came home. The pain came again as she considered that Carla may go home to spend the night with the woman.
She lowered her head and hurried through the living room before the churning overcame her. But a smooth, familiar voice stopped her dead in her tracks.
“Hi.” Carla was standing near the couch, apparently having entered the house silently, keys still in her hand. The look on her face showed a hint of genuine concern, but it was heavily overshadowed by a look of sheer determination. Just what she was determined to do or say, Janice wasn’t sure. But the possibilities caused her hands to tremble again.
Janice had to clear her throat to speak. “I was just going to go turn in.” She took a step toward the hallway but so did Carla, only she stepped toward her.
“Why?” She angled her head slightly, as if truly curious. She tossed her keys onto the coffee table while remaining focused on Janice. “It’s a little early for you, isn’t it?”
“I’m tired.” Janice swallowed as Carla came closer, moving like a predator keenly focused on its prey.
“You don’t look tired.” She stepped into her path. “You look upset. Frazzled. You looked the same at Maurine’s. Is something wrong?”
“No.” But she turned her head as she said it, unable to hold Carla’s intense gaze. “I just—got tired.”
Carla came closer. Carefully, she took the glass from her hand and set it on the end table. She tried to do the same with the wine, but Janice wouldn’t let go.
“No, I need this,” Janice said, once again looking into her eyes.
“No, you don’t,” Carla said softly.
“I do. I—want it.”
“No, you don’t.” She gently eased the bottle from her grip and placed it next to the glass.
Janice sidestepped to reach for it, but Carla stilled her with a slight grasp of her arm.
“You don’t need it, Janice. And you don’t really want it.”
Her voice and demeanor were smooth and sure as if she could see everything there ever was to Janice. Every thought, every feeling, every fear. Every…. desire. Just like she’d insisted she could back at the barbecue at Maurine’s. Was it possible that she really could? Could someone really know her so well?
Being seen like that so easily and for the very first time in her life, caused a sudden panic in her. There was nowhere to hide, no way to deny. She was now fully exposed and being held captive by the gaze of the most beautiful, alluring predator a poor, helpless prey like herself had ever encountered. Any attempt to try to form an escape plan or any other sort of complex or rational thought were futile. Her mind was melting, along with the rest of her body, save for her poor panicked heart, which was still careening.
Carla seemed to sense it and she drew even closer, now only mere inches away. Janice could smell the faint scent of her cologne, feel the slight caress of her breath and see the thrum of her pulse in her neck. Her close proximity at that moment was having such a strong effect on her, Carla might as well have been touching her.
Janice tried to speak, one last-ditch effort to say or do anything to somehow break the overwhelming spell. But the power of Carla’s gaze seemed to smother her voice, allowing for only a meek noise of helplessness to escape.
“Were you going to say something?” Carla asked.
Janice was finding it hard to breathe. “I—don’t know. I don’t know what to say other than good night.”
Carla smirked. “How about the truth, Janice?”
Oh God. Not again. I can’t fight it.
Her racing heart plummeted to her feet.
“The truth?”
“Yes. How about, instead of me telling you what it is you really want, you tell me?”
“I—” How could she say it? What were the right words? How does someone reach into their own chest, grab hold of their beating heart and offer it someone else, hoping against hope that they really want it and won’t tear it to pieces?
“It’s not the wine you really want, Janice. And it’s not sleep.” She lightly ran her fingers up and down Janice’s arm, teasing her skin like the touch of a feather.
Blood pounded in Janice’s ears and heated her entire body. She shook her head, feeling completely out of control and unable to put voice to any of the sporadic thoughts and feelings coursing through her.
“I know you’re scared. I am too. But I came here to tell you that I’m willing to move past my fear. I came here hoping that you’ll be willing to do the same.”
Janice held her chest, convinced she was going implode. Carla had just taken away the very last excuse she had for the continued denial of her feelings.
“You’re still not going to say it, are you?” Carla asked. She moved her hand from her arm and grazed her cheek just before she cupped her jaw.
Janice shuddered and she knew Carla felt it by the sudden flash of hunger she saw in her eyes and by the deep and sultry way in which she spoke, like the predator she’d been emulating, who at long last was about to devour its prey.
“Then how about instead of you saying it, or me saying it, I just show you what it is you want? What it is you need.”
Janice struggled to keep breathing. To remain standing. To remain fucking conscious as Carla carefully leaned in, skimmed her thumb across Janice’s lower lip and then slowly, so very slowly, brought her mouth to hers and kissed her.
The kiss was warm, soft, and so incredibly gentle and seeking of permission that Janice felt faint. Carla was introducing her to her own desire, taking her hand and guiding her into the depths of her innermost self and yet she was still considerate and careful, making sure she was willing to take that next step alongside her. And she asked her again and again with each delicate, deliberate move of her mouth, lightly pressing her lips into Janice’s, seeking and caressing and tasting and waiting.
With every single touch and careful collision of their lips, a scorching of yearning and desire began to burn hotter and fiercer deep inside Janice. Every cell seemed to burst aflame with life and need and they all cried out for more, demanded more. Made her feel like she was going to die if she didn’t get more. So, she clung to her, grabbing fistfuls of her shirt, and kissed her back, desperate to taste more of her, desperate to feel more of the moist heat of her mouth. Her response brought out a primal sounding noise in Carla and she quickly tugged on her hips to meld their bodies together just like their mouths.
They were fused. In unison. Exploring. Giving. Receiving. And when Carla carefully sought with her tongue, Janice welcomed her, never before having wanted the feel of that slick velvet against her own so badly. And the way Carla kissed her, so passionately and yet so controlled, as if she wanted it to last, as if kissing Janice was the most meaningful and sacred thing in her entire existence. As if she knew it meant just as much to Janice as well.
Janice was grateful and she knew she forever would be, because she had absolutely no control left in her. Carla’s kisses had splayed her wide open and every thought, feeling, and desire she’d had for her were now pulsing out of her. There was no stopping it. And no way in hell she wanted to stop it.
She pulled on Carla’s shirt, to hold her closer, tighter, and answered her tongue with the hungry thrust of her own. Carla groaned and eagerly deepened the kiss, lowering her hands to her buttocks where she, too, held her tighter. They kissed wildly then. Fervently. And every stroke of Carla’s tongue sent a rush of heat to Janice’s throbbing center, causing a newfound aggression to take precedence. And suddenly she was clawing at Carla’s back and trying to grind herself against her thigh.
Carla tore her mouth away and held her face. She panted as she stared into her with eyes as wild as their kisses.
“Is this what you want, Janice?” she asked. “Is this what you really want? Because if you aren’t completely sure, tell me now. Tell me now before I lose the very last of my reason and inhibition.”
Janice hung from her, limp and clinging like a woman drunk on desire. Drunk on Carla Sims. The distant sound of fireworks boomed in the night, as if in sync with her madly beating heart.
“I want it. I want you.”
Janice saw her words penetrate. Carla’s body tensed and her jaw flushed with a tinge of red just before it flexed. Her eyes however, her eyes softened with what could only be heartfelt emotion.
This woman really cares for me.
How could I have not seen it?
Why have I been so afraid?
“You’re sure?” Carla continued, her voice now strained and raspy, as if what she was saying truly affected her. “Because if we continue and I—if we do what it is I’ve been dying to do with you, to you—everything will change. Everything. There won’t be any going back.”
Janice let go of her shirt and reached up to her own face where Carla was holding her and rested her hand on Carla’s.
“I only want to go forward. With you.”
Carla closed her eyes. And when she opened them they were glistening with tears.
“Are you okay?” Janice felt emotion tighten her throat as well. Carla merely smiled.
“Yes. And you’re about to see just how okay I really am.” She lowered her hands and cupped Janice’s ass and lifted her in one quick motion. Janice wrapped her arms and legs tightly around her, so turned on she feared she might climax from the firm press of Carla’s body between her legs alone.
“Where are we going?” Janice asked, already hungrily massaging her fingers into Carla’s hair at the base of her skull.
Carla spun and continued through the living room.
“To the place I’ve dreamt about taking you for far too long now.”
“Where’s that?”
“Your bed.”