To Jules’s consternation, Vivian’s house was dark and silent when she entered—no light shining from either the kitchen or the den, no sounds of movement. Had Vivian fallen asleep? Was she pissed off that Jules had sent a text saying she’d be late? It wasn’t that late—only eight thirty—and Jules had promised she’d be bringing a surprise.
The light went on in the stairwell.
Jules froze.
“I’m up here,” Vivian called.
Jules wondered if she was actually about to faint as she headed up the stairs. Her palms were sweaty, and her long coat didn’t help the heat suffusing her whole body.
When she reached the top, she saw that the light was on in the study. She took a deep breath and walked in.
Vivian was sitting on the couch. She looked up at Jules with bright, glittering eyes as she took in the coat. “Is it too cold in here?”
“No,” Jules said softly. The tone of her voice was enough to get Vivian sitting up straight.
Jules began slowly unzipping her coat.
Now Vivian’s eyes widened.
“Told you I was going to be late,” Jules said, “because I was bringing a surprise.”
“Oh God,” Vivian whispered.
“Mm-hmm.” Jules had the zipper down halfway. As the coat opened, Vivian could clearly see what she’d changed into: the red jumpsuit from New Year’s Eve, shoulders repaired and neckline practically slit down to Jules’s navel.
No boob tape tonight. Jules was definitely about to burst out of this thing. And tonight, Vivian didn’t seem to think that was very funny.
She let the coat fall to the floor. It thumped against the Berber rug. “Thanks for letting me keep this.”
Vivian pressed her lips together as she looked at the peaks of Jules’s nipples, hard and clearly visible through the fabric.
“You like it?” Jules asked.
“Come here.”
The note of command in Vivian’s voice was wobblier than usual. She still should have said please.
Jules let the command draw her forward anyway until she was standing over Vivian, looking down at her, drowning in her eyes. Instead of sitting, she touched Vivian’s face with her fingertips.
“Julia.”
Now Vivian’s voice broke, and that was good enough. Jules exhaled and sat next to her, close enough that their thighs were touching from hip to knee. The contact—more than they’d ever had before, not nearly enough—made her ache.
“Come here,” Vivian repeated, but she was the one who reached out, cupped Jules’s face, and pulled her in.
Jules slid her arms around Vivian’s waist and went for it.
She started off gentle, as usual. And as usual, Vivian’s face and body heated up against her own. Jules felt a shiver chase up and down Vivian’s spine. And when she’d finished the first kiss, she gave Vivian another one. And then another. And another. Then she lost track and just thought about Vivian’s unbelievably soft mouth and the way it kissed her back so hungrily tonight.
Suddenly, Vivian pulled back, panting, her face bright red. Jules’s heart fell, but Vivian didn’t retreat or push her away. Instead she said, “Please.”
Please what? Jules didn’t know, but she didn’t stop to think about it. She couldn’t think at all as she bent and kissed the angles of Vivian’s chin, nipping at the place where the jaw met her throat.
Vivian gasped in her ear.
With a sigh, Jules moved downward, mouthing and kissing at her throat.
Digging her nails into Jules’s shoulders, Vivian stiffened and arched. “God,” she whispered.
“Good?” Jules breathed deeply, her head spinning from Vivian’s perfume and beneath it the smell of her skin.
“D-don’t stop.”
She didn’t. Given permission to drown, she did, and nuzzled at Vivian’s skin as if she were in a dream. Vivian’s pulse beat fast and hard near her mouth. She slid her hands up and down, pressing Vivian even closer to her.
“Oh.” Vivian moved one of her own hands up to dig into Jules’s hair. She gave a sudden, rueful laugh. “Y-you win.”
“I do?” Before Vivian could reply, she kissed her again, a long kiss now.
By the end of it, Vivian was practically squirming. “You’re driving me crazy,” she whimpered when Jules let up. “My hormones are—and you, you’ve been t-teasing me for—”
“I never teased you.” Jules let indignation take over her arousal for a moment. “You’re the one who—and I told you I’d do whatever you wanted.”
At those words, Vivian’s eyes glazed over.
Jules’s irritation vanished without a trace. She kissed her again as lightly as she had that first night and whispered, “So what do you want?”
“I don’t know,” Vivian panted. “I can’t think.” Her eyes slid shut. “Please, just…”
The raw need in her voice went straight between Jules’s legs. Jules couldn’t get past the blush in Vivian’s cheeks or the smell of her or the tremble in her mouth or how soft her hair was when Jules slid her fingers into it and pulled her closer for another kiss. And this time, she nibbled and kissed until Vivian parted her lips and let her in.
Drowning.
When they parted at last, Vivian moaned.
At the sound of it, Jules did too, then kissed her again, sliding her hand up and down Vivian’s rib cage, feeling the heat of her through her soft knit shirt. It was a wrap blouse: comfortable, stretchy, and promising easy access if Jules just popped open the three big buttons right here on the side…
Not yet. Take it slow. Savor this. Jules wasn’t a teenager, for crying out loud.
So instead of trying to tear Vivian’s clothes off, Jules started in on her throat again, and this time she didn’t hesitate to use her teeth. Nothing likely to leave a mark, just little nips in between softer kisses while Vivian trembled and whimpered some more.
When Jules pushed her blouse aside so she could get to more of her shoulder, Vivian said, “Julia,” and rubbed her nose in Jules’s hair. That was more than enough to bring Jules back to her mouth. By the end of the kiss, they were clutching each other and panting for air, and Jules had slid one hand under Vivian’s blouse to touch her soft, warm skin.
“Ah.” Vivian pulled her in for another kiss.
Jules rubbed her hand up and down, her fingertips tingling because she still wasn’t used to touching Vivian, certainly not like this, and she wondered if she ever would be. “You feel good,” she mumbled against Vivian’s mouth. She kissed a shoulder again, felt the shudder it provoked. “You like this?”
“Ah,” Vivian said again, and added, “Don’t stop.” She slid her own hand down, cupped Jules’s hip, and kissed just by the ear.
The brush of Vivian’s lips on her cheek made Jules think of their first evening together on a sofa in London, when she had sealed their deal with a chaste little kiss to Vivian’s hand that had nearly blown the top of Jules’s head off.
She thought of the dizzy, terrifying joy that had taken hold of her at that moment and still hadn’t let go. It had just been the two of them on that glorious evening. Nobody watching them. Nobody but them, nothing to stop them from—
“God,” Vivian moaned, arching into her touch, which was a good thing because Jules had cupped her breast without even thinking about it.
And now she couldn’t stop, couldn’t stop stroking that soft weight in her palm, longing to feel it without all the layers in the way. Vivian probably wouldn’t object. She’d tilted her head back and closed her eyes.
“You like this?” Jules whispered again, so hot that she wondered if all her clothes were going to burn right off. She could feel Vivian’s nipple even through all the layers of clothes, and she rubbed gently at it with her thumb. “Is that good?”
“Yes,” Vivian gasped and kissed Jules again, whimpering when Jules kept moving her thumb. Between kisses, she managed to say against Jules’s mouth, “They’re more s-sensitive.”
That tore it. Being prudent could go to hell. Jules fumbled with the buttons on Vivian’s top.
Vivian let her mouth wander over to Jules’s cheek again, then to Jules’s forehead, then to her temple, as if she never wanted to stop kissing her. Fair enough. It worked both ways.
After a few more endless seconds, Jules’s fingers finished their work, and the top slipped open to reveal a soft white bra that hooked in front.
Now it was Jules’s turn to say “please” as she rubbed Vivian’s nipple again, already stunned at how much warmer Vivian was with one layer removed. She touched the clasp between those breasts, and Vivian’s breathing got even faster.
“Let me,” Jules begged.
“Ah,” was all Vivian could say.
Close enough to permission. Jules popped the clasp open. Then she pulled back just enough to see.
Oh…God. The world’s most famous models had nothing on these. Beneath her blouse, Vivian’s skin was as smooth and perfect as the rest of her, and her nipples were as pink and tightly furled as rosebuds. Jules rubbed her thumb over one of them. That wasn’t enough. She bent her head so she could have a taste.
Vivian melted against the couch, sagging back into the cushions as she cried out. Her nails dug into Jules’s shoulders.
The texture of Vivian’s nipple was perfect against Jules’s tongue. Soft and rough all at once. She’d been dreaming of this. She couldn’t miss a single detail or leave a single inch undiscovered.
She licked just at the tip over and over again before taking it between her teeth and tugging gently. The nipple became even harder in her mouth. Hell yeah, it was sensitive. She licked it again, realized that wasn’t enough either, and began to suck on it, alternating the softness of her tongue with the edge of her teeth.
Vivian gave a sobbing moan, and Jules felt one of the hands that had been digging into her shoulders move up to rub through her hair.
Feeling like she’d just been jerked out of a trance, Jules raised her head.
Vivian was staring back at her with glassy, wild eyes. “What,” she began, her voice hardly recognizable. “Don’t stop—please—”
Stop? Jules was never going to stop. She was going to do this for the rest of her life. Instead of wasting her breath saying so, she pushed until Vivian’s back was propped up against the arm of the sofa, until she was nearly lying down, so that Jules could get to her other breast and give it equal attention.
Beneath her, Vivian sobbed again, arched up, grabbed her shoulders, and held on for dear life as she said, “Oh God” and “Please, yes.”
Jules lifted her head again, giving the wet, reddened nipple one final lick—
“More,” Vivian gasped. “Please, more.”
And switched back to the first, earning a grateful moan. And then back again.
Back and forth between Vivian’s breasts, again and again, for what seemed like hours while Vivian writhed and begged like she couldn’t get enough. Her head tossed against the arm of the couch, and she seemed utterly shocked by the strength of her reaction, as if she’d never been this aroused in her life.
That made two of them.
“Oh, my God,” Vivian panted. “Oh, my God, Julia.”
Jules started pinching and stroking her other nipple in time with her mouth, which rendered Vivian too breathless even to moan.
How could this not be enough? How could Jules still want more, still want to devour every single inch of—she said, “I want to do everything to you. Everything.” She bent and sucked again, long and hard, which coaxed a mewling noise out of Vivian’s throat. “I want to make you feel so good. I’ll do anything, anything you want.”
Vivian pressed Jules’s head down again, shaking all over, shaking so hard that it was a wonder they were both still on the couch. “Please, please…”
Jules licked.
“Ah! Oh, that’s…that’s so…I didn’t…I’ve never, I’ve…oh-h-h—”
Jules sucked.
“Oh, I-I’m—”
Jules bit.
“God, I’m, I’m—”
Jules licked again.
“Stop!”
She paused, sure that she must have misheard, but Vivian was, in fact, weakly pushing at her shoulders, pushing her away.
“I can’t,” Vivian whimpered. “I can’t…no more…please stop…”
Her blood pounding in her ears, Jules raised her head.
Vivian remained splayed back against the couch, her eyes closed, her blouse and bra open, and her skirt hiked up from the way they’d been lying together. She was panting, her throat, chest, and belly blotched with red. Her breasts were wet from Jules’s mouth.
She looked like she’d just been fucked six ways from Sunday and had loved every second of it.
“Oh,” Vivian whispered, covering her eyes with her hand. “Oh, my God.” She was still trembling but less violently now, and in fact seemed actually to be relaxing against the sofa like she’d…
Like she’d…
No. No way.
“Did,” Jules managed, “um, did you just—?”
Vivian nodded, then lifted her hand, looking at Jules with shocked, dazed eyes. “Twice,” she rasped.
Jules stared down at her.
Vivian reached up. Held out her arms. And Jules bent down, kissed her, and came so hard at the first touch of Vivian’s tongue that she cried out against her mouth.
This time it was Vivian’s turn to whisper, disbelievingly, “Did you?”
“Uh-huh.” Jules hid her face against the side of Vivian’s neck, nuzzling there and tasting the salt, glad that the couch was so enormous.
Vivian said nothing, but she slid one hand up and down Jules’s thigh. They rested there together in mutual stunned silence for a moment as they both struggled to get their breath back.
“You okay?” Jules asked when that moment had passed.
“Mm.” Vivian took one more deep breath and let it go.
“That was, um,” Jules said, “that was pretty good?”
It wasn’t really a question. If two people could make each other come without once venturing down below, then, yeah, it had been pretty good.
“Yes.” Vivian still sounded breathless.
Jules rubbed her hip, and Vivian shivered. “Please tell me we can do that again.” She half expected Vivian to say something smart-assed or maybe not even reply at all.
Instead, she just said faintly, “Okay.” And she stroked Jules’s silk-clad thigh.
Jules decided instantly that, when time allowed, she was having this jumpsuit preserved and put in a display box.
In the meantime, though, Vivian appeared to be returning to herself, and Jules’s joy was starting to make her feel a little silly, to say nothing of smug.
“‘We don’t have to have sex,’” she said prissily into Vivian’s ear.
“Oh, shut up.”
“Let’s be all platonic and chaste.’”
“You respected that suggestion for an entire day, didn’t you?”
“Nowhere near that long.” Jules laughed, feeling downright giddy.
“Again with the snickering.”
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.” Understatement of the year. “I know I feel better, anyway.” She caressed Vivian’s side, enjoying the way it made Vivian shiver again. “Don’t you feel better?”
Vivian had been the one begging for a little relief after all, which she’d apparently gotten in spades.
“Yes.” She rubbed her nose against Jules’s ear, then paused. “Actually, I’m starving.”
Jules laughed again. “Worked up an appetite, huh?”
“Are you going to start giggling every time we do this?”
Every time. That thought wasn’t going make Jules stop smiling, that was for sure. Still grinning, she sat up. “Maybe. You want me to bring you something from the kitchen?”
Then a thought occurred to her, and she froze. “Or should I just go home?”
Having her way with Vivian on the couch was one thing, but making herself at home without an invitation was something else entirely, even now.
Vivian regarded her much too thoughtfully for someone who’d been a whimpering mess just a few moments ago, just long enough for Jules to squirm and be sure she’d misread the situation completely.
But then Vivian said, “Ellen put grilled chicken salad in the fridge. Let’s eat.”
Jules beamed.