Lisa took her time getting the cupcakes out of the box and putting them on two plates, grateful to have a few seconds to clear her head and steady her hands. Life coaches were a tricky bunch—they could start what seemed like a totally normal conversation, then end it with you telling them things you didn’t tell anyone. Or at least, things she hadn’t told anyone in years.
She called bullshit on Marty’s unassuming interrogation style with her impromptu floor couch and the seductive way she propped herself up on her elbow to look casually sexy with her curves outlined in the warm glow of the fire. She’d practically set the scene for a damn Hallmark holiday special. And she’d almost fallen for it. She’d let out way more information than she’d intended to, but at least she’d left the biggest of all her cats in the bag o’ crazy.
But was it really crazy? She’d made her choices, and she’d made peace with them. She didn’t like everything she’d put out into the world, but given the same choice again, she’d make it quickly and gladly. Just because another good-bye was on the horizon didn’t mean she had any regrets about what she’d done to try to stop the first one, or what she’d been able to do for the people she loved since then.
“Damn it,” she swore, out loud this time. Why was she harping on all this? If she could’ve been angry at Marty, she would have been. She had no right to meddle, but she looked so damn beautiful while doing it, it hardly felt intrusive at the time. Well two could play that part. She might have been off her game a little bit, but she was aware enough to realize Marty wasn’t immune to the situation she’d cultivated. The casual touching wasn’t quite so casual anymore, and she’d seen her already dark irises swirl with something deeper as her eyes raked over her body.
If something had to tip the balance between them, she’d much rather land on the physical side of that fence than the emotional outpouring one.
“Did you get lost in your cavernous kitchen?” Marty finally called.
“Nope.” She grabbed a bottle of pinot noir and quickly slipped a bottle opener into her back pocket before stacking the cupcake plates waitress style and hooking the stems of two wineglasses between her fingers.
“Voilà, one afternoon picnic of decadence at your service.” She presented her cache of treats with a flourish.
“Wow, did you work in food service growing up?”
“No, I’m just a glutton who’s learned to juggle her addictions with grace.”
Marty took the wineglasses. “I appreciate a woman who doesn’t let her vices get in the way of style.”
Lisa remembered to take the corkscrew out of her pocket before sitting back down on the blanket and promptly put it to use.
“I also appreciate that we don’t mind the social edicts about drinking midday.”
“Well the thing is, I was pouring out a lot of personal information there, and you weren’t returning the favor quite as much, or even at all.”
“So you thought you’d loosen my lips with a little vino?”
“And sugar”—Lisa nodded to the cupcakes—“don’t forget the sugar.”
“Well, add your valiant effort to the growing list of things I appreciate, but I hate to say it was unwarranted.”
“Because you won’t spill?”
“No, because I will, even without bribery or buttering up.”
Lisa eyed her, hoping she came across as suspicious, but her gaze might have lingered on her beautifully soft lips a bit too long.
“You don’t believe me?”
“It just seems like I’ve done all the talking about my damaged sense of self and my parents’ disappointment and selling my soul to the corporate overlords, yada yada.” She filled Marty’s glass with the deep red wine.
“It’s interesting you got that from the conversation. I had a totally different takeaway.”
“Nice try, Coacharella,” Lisa said, pouring herself a decidedly smaller portion of wine. “I live with a life coach, remember. I know all about the redirect. Now back to you.”
Marty laughed as she shook her head. “Maybe I redirect without even realizing it.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” Lisa curled back into a cross-legged stance and motioned for Marty to continue.
“Okay.” Marty sighed heavily as if searching for something to say. “I guess it might be a good time to say my situation’s not entirely different from yours, really.”
“Really? Or are you just making this cupcake and wine fireside chat all about me again?”
“Both, I suppose, because when you talked about your family, maybe instead of deflecting, I should’ve said I understood what you meant at least a little bit. Maybe by trying to ask you questions to help you affirm your choice to break the mold, I was making myself feel a little better too.”
“But you’re classy, and you have a job in a field that helps people. Even if I don’t buy into the whole self-help craze myself, I see what it did for Joey. And Elaine’s always happier when she gets off Skype with you.”
“Well that’s awfully magnanimous of you to say. And I do agree, for the most part. I’m prouder of my work than you are of yours, but when you put it up against the family business, it can sometimes look particularly small in scope.”
“I thought you were a military brat.”
“Yeah, I should’ve been part of the third generation to serve,” Marty said, shifting so she could pick at her cupcake while lying on her side. “My father was actually born in an internment camp during World War Two.”
A chill ran the length of her arms. “Are you serious?”
“I am. Sounds like something out of a history book, right?”
“Yeah.” Lisa didn’t know what to say. An internment camp. Those happened in another world, in another time. Not to real people’s parents, at least not people she knew.
“Well it still hangs over our family, most of them, and I guess me too in some ways. My grandparents ran a little corner grocery store in Pasadena. Their parents had been born in America. You have to go back like three more generations to get to the immigrants, but it didn’t matter, they all got rounded up. My grandma already had two kids and was pregnant with my dad, but my grandfather, in an attempt to prove his patriotism, joined the army.”
Lisa shook her head. “He went to fight for the country that locked up his wife and kids? I’m sorry, but I don’t think I’d want anything to do with a military like that.”
“Thank you for seeing it that way,” Marty said, her relief genuine. “I always feel guilty for those thoughts. He was highly decorated, though. My dad still has all his medals. He brings them out on special occasions and says: 442nd Infantry Regiment, the most decorated unit in US military history. For a while I thought four hundred forty-two was one of our identifiers, like our last name or our address.”
“I can see how something like that could shape a family.”
“He was proud to have liberated people from the Nazi camps. I think they felt very personal to him after what happened back home. He lost his right leg in the process. He used to tell us he just left it in Germany. Forgot to pack it in his rucksack on the way back.”
She tried to tread as carefully as Marty had with her, but she couldn’t hide her amazement. “I guess that’s an impressive way to prove you belong in a country you shouldn’t have to prove you belong in.”
“It would’ve been enough for most people, but he wanted more. He wanted his sons to always be proud of their American heritage, but I think he was still trying to prove something. The shame of the camps got passed down as much as the pride.”
“So your dad joined up too?”
“Yeah. He ran headlong into Vietnam, three times.”
“What?” Lisa exclaimed so loudly she grimaced at the sound of her own voice reverberating off the hardwood floors. “Three times? Was that normal?”
“No.” Marty laughed. “Most people did only one tour. He says he did all three for love.”
“Love?”
“The first two for love of country, the third for love of my mother. She was a military nurse. They met three weeks before she left for Saigon. He says he volunteered for a post there the day after she left because he’d rather be in a war zone with her than safe at home without her.”
“Holy shit. Your dad’s a military hero and a romantic rock star.” Lisa once again felt wholly unworthy. She’d never live up to a romantic role model of that caliber.
“He really is. They both are. They all are. My brother served in the first Iraq war, and now he’s a therapist who focuses on PTSD. My sister works in counterterrorism. They save all the lives.”
Lisa fell over dramatically onto one of the pillows. “My family fights death, your family fights the agents of death.” Somehow it felt funny. The laughter bubbled up inside her and she couldn’t hold it in. It wasn’t appropriate to giggle about something so personal, something she’d felt so insecure about, something Marty had shared so openly. A better person would’ve nodded sympathetically, offered words of affirmation, soothed her fears. Sadly, Lisa was not a better person, because no matter how she clenched her jaw, the laughter still shook her shoulders and hitched her breath.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she finally gasped, but when she pushed herself back up to a sitting position, she found Marty lying on her back, laughing as well. Softly, but with so much abandon that tears streaked down her cheeks, and every time she wiped them she laughed harder, making them flow even more. The vicious cycle sucked Lisa back in, and she flopped to the floor once more.
“Oh my God, we’re the most highly functioning underachievers to ever walk the earth,” she whispered as she stared at the ceiling and tried to think of things to make her stop laughing. She went through scary clowns, creamed spinach, and sick puppies before she could draw a steady breath.
“We really are,” Marty agreed. “Just look at us. Lying around drinking wine and eating cupcakes in the middle of a weekday while our families save the world.”
She didn’t sound any more disappointed than Lisa felt.
“Do you regret it?”
“No,” Marty said quickly. “I can’t find it in myself to regret it.”
“Me either,” Lisa said. “I think that’s the hardest part for me sometimes. I don’t regret it. I feel like I should. I feel like that makes me a terrible person. Or it did, until you got it. And then suddenly it all felt hilarious!”
“Hysterical is more like it,” Marty said, rolling over to face her.
“Yeah, we sort of fell apart there.”
Marty ran her fingers lightly across Lisa’s cheek. “But in a good way, right?”
Lisa closed her eyes, letting the question seep in like the warmth of Marty’s touch. So gentle, and yet so stirring. It had been a long time since she’d felt so secure, so at peace, and yet not quite peaceful. As she opened her eyes to search Marty’s darker ones, she saw so much of herself reflected there. Recognition, attraction, and desire all seemed so clear. Her heart rate rose steadily as she lifted Marty’s hand in her own and brought it to her lips. She kissed the tip of each finger before smiling at her again.
“Yes,” she finally said, “I think we’re falling apart in a very good way.”
*
Marty’s breath caught in her throat. Lisa was so beautiful, her dark hair falling across her forehead, the mischief in her hazel eyes shifting to something more powerful than playful. She wondered briefly if Lisa could see the same in her. Had she watched the scales tip and their trajectory together alter in the moment when they’d finally fully seen each other? Did Lisa feel it sweep across her skin the way she had? She drew her gaze from Lisa’s eyes, dragging it down across the smooth skin of her cheek to the flushed softness of her lips. She gave only a passing thought to the fact that she might never see her again after tomorrow, but somehow the idea that had given her pause earlier only added urgency now.
She hooked an arm around Lisa’s waist and pulled them together. Their bodies brushed against each other, hips, legs, chest, and, most thrillingly, lips. Their mouths met in the same way they had the night before, natural, easy, as if they’d been born to kiss one another. They set an unhurried but purposeful pace without hesitation or doubt, not exploring so much as experiencing. Marty worked her fingers under the hem of Lisa’s shirt, finding the tantalizing bit of skin she’d caught a glimpse of. It was as soft and warm as she’d expected, but instead of being satisfied, she only craved more.
She slid her hand up the curve of her hip and over the ridges of her rib cage until she found the soft swell of her breasts. Lisa gasped, then caught Marty’s lip between her teeth, nibbling just hard enough to send her arousal up another level. It must have had the same effect on Lisa, because her hands began to blaze a mirror path up her body. Marty’s attention was divided in the most beautiful way, between touching such beauty and being touched so beautifully.
Lisa pushed her knee between her legs, and Marty found the friction of their clothes all at once arousing and too restrictive, but before she had a chance to act, Lisa rolled her onto her back and kissed a wandering trail down her neck. All other intentions left her mind as she luxuriated in the feel of Lisa’s warm breath against sensitive skin. Lisa ran her hands up under Marty’s sweater, causing it to ride up as she went. Soon the area of her torso left uncovered was much greater than the part left under the sweater. Lisa kissed her way down along her abs and stomach, then, threading a hand behind her back, urged her up gently enough to slip the fabric off completely.
“You’re so beautiful,” Lisa whispered, lowering her back to the blanket. The thrill of her voice, so low, so close, pulled at something almost primal in Marty. She didn’t want to simply lie back and be admired. The evidence of Lisa’s desire fed her own, and she wouldn’t be passive on the path to fulfilling it.
Lisa lowered her mouth again, this time to run her tongue along the line where her bra met her skin. Marty raked her hands along her back, pulling the soft cotton up as she went. Lisa paused long enough to help shrug the shirt off before pulling Marty back up and unclasping her bra. She cast it aside quickly, their pace accelerating to match the rhythm of their increasingly shallow breaths.
“Marty, I want…” Lisa stumbled and then, releasing a shuddering breath, smiled. The expression conveyed so much need and still a surprising amount of insecurity.
“Yes.” Marty whispered the answer to all the unspoken questions, then, cupping her face in her hands, pulled her back down to reaffirm the word with action.
This kiss was hotter as they melted together again. She loved the weight of Lisa settling against her, skin on skin, heat to heat. The sensations accompanying their closeness were overwhelming and still not enough. She worked her hands between them and unclasped the button on Lisa’s jeans, then slipped slowly inside across the smooth plane of muscles hardened with anticipation.
Lisa extended her arms on either side of Marty, lifting her body in push-up position and allowing her jeans and underwear to be pushed down before she kicked them away. Marty reached for her, clutching at bare skin, wanting to be smothered in her, but Lisa had her own ideas. She crawled down, kissing her way along Marty’s stomach. As she flipped open the button of her jeans and lowered the zipper, her mouth quickly covered each little bit of skin the second she revealed it.
Marty arched her hips, pressing into the pressure of Lisa’s mouth and allowing her to pull her jeans over her hips and down her legs. There were no more thoughts, no more reason beyond their need.
Hands, legs, torsos, mouths all blurred together. How long had it been since she felt like this? Yesterday? Years ago? Never? She couldn’t tell. She couldn’t focus on anything but Lisa. The sound of her raspy breath in her ear, the scent of her cologne mingled with sweat, the rapid beat of her heart against the skin of her own chest, the insistent press of her hand between her legs, stroking her, urging her higher, closer.
She wanted.
That was all she could process and all she could manage to say through the choking desire. “Please, Lisa. I need…”
Lisa lifted her head. The intensity reflected in her eyes caused Marty to shudder.
“What do you need?”
“You.”
The word was all she had, and all the moment required. Everything about the writhing, exploding crush of emotions so neatly summed up in three letters. Lisa hovered above her, disbelief and awe swirling through her hazel gaze, before taking a deep breath and nodding.
“Yes.” Another beautiful three letters strung together to encompass so much.
Then lowering her head once more, Lisa slid down the length of her body. With the most beautiful combination of lips, tongue, fingers, and heart, she played their shared need like an instrument or an entire orchestra.
Marty clutched her shoulder, her back, the dark silky fan of hair cascading over her legs and stomach, urging her onward, until in her release she cried out, one more summative word, one name, the only one left for her in that moment. “Lisa.”
*
Her own name echoed through her ears as she lay gasping for breath, but even as her exertion faded, her body refused to settle. The echo of Marty’s voice haunted her. The pleading, the need, so raw, asking for more even as it was fulfilled. And the way Marty had looked up at her like she could see straight through to her heart—or her soul, she didn’t know. She wasn’t prepared for any of the emotions ripping through her. She’d almost broken down, collapsed under the weight of being…wanted? Desired? Needed? She’d never been looked at like she meant so very much to someone. Only her sheer force of will kept her from crumbling under the weight of responsibility.
She’d clung to the physical, the tactile, the tangible. It was what she knew and what she was willing to give. And she did give everything she could. She’d ached to feel Marty’s stunning body bend, tighten, and crash beneath her, but that name—her own name, the one she’d heard millions of times—had never sounded so raw to her own ears. She’d never felt so unqualified to answer it.
Marty curled against her side, warm and gorgeous, resting her head on her shoulder, one arm draped lightly across her chest. Lisa stared at her fingers, so slender with elegantly curved nails, accented against her own flushed skin. Whatever made her think she could be the answer to anything for this woman?
“Hey,” Marty finally whispered in a way that made it clear she was smiling even though Lisa couldn’t see her face.
“Hey.” She sounded restrained, forced through false casualness.
“Well, that just happened.”
“It did,” Lisa admitted with as much coolness as she could muster.
“Quite unexpectedly.”
“I’ll say.”
“But not regrettably,” Marty said, letting the doubt creep back in. “Right?”
“No.” Lisa kissed the top of her head. “Not for me.”
“Me either.”
Lisa wondered if she meant that. She didn’t seem like the kind to lie or even put on a show for pity’s sake, but she was a life coach. She had a certain skill set and ethical sensibility that prevented her from telling someone sex with them was awful.
But it wasn’t awful. She’d been present enough to plainly see Marty didn’t share any of her doubts. She’d never waivered in her certainty of what she’d wanted. Lisa just wasn’t sure how that could be her.
“What are you thinking?”
The question grated on her already-raw nerves. How the hell was she supposed to answer? Who had amazing, unexpected sex with a woman way out of her league and then said, “Do you think maybe that was a bad decision?”
Instead she looked out the front windows, trying to find something else to think about quickly so she could say that instead of what she had been thinking about before. The sun hung low in the sky, casting an orange glow on the houses and snow-covered ground. It reminded her of the firelight across Marty’s bare skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
The words came out before she’d really meant to say them, but at least she’d shared an honest thought.
Marty placed a little kiss on her chest. “So are you, among other things.”
Lisa shook her head. She couldn’t believe her. Marty was leaving tomorrow. This thing, however awesome it was, couldn’t work its way into her heart. It had already worked its way too far into her body, because parts of her were still on high alert, and the tips of Marty’s fingernails were inching ever lower down her torso.
“Think we worked up enough of an appetite to put the Anchor Bar out of business?”
“What?”
“It’s almost dinnertime, and it wouldn’t be a trip to Buffalo without getting some wings, right?”
Marty lifted her head and looked at Lisa as if trying to gauge if she was joking or not. Lisa struggled to keep her expression pleasantly neutral as Marty narrowed her eyes and furrowed her brow. “Wings?”
“It’s kind of a thing around here.”
Marty stared at her, the silence stretching into the awkward range.
“Buffalo wings, but you know, except here we just call them wings.” Lisa tried to laugh, but the joke fell flat even to her own ears.
“What’s wrong?” Marty asked softly.
“Nothing, I just thought you’d like to go out to eat at a local historic spot. Dinner and landmark all in one.”
Lisa’s chest grew tighter as seconds ticked away. Suddenly the weight of Marty against her was almost as unbearable as the weight of her disappointment. She scooted away, gently extracting her arm from underneath Marty, and reached for her pants. Trying to keep the tone light and casual, she went for the easy quip again. “Most of the time a woman wants to be taken out for dinner first, but just because we did things the other way around doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get a meal out of the deal.”
Marty’s sharp intake of breath made Lisa wince. She turned to try to do damage control, but Marty was already covering up, both physically and emotionally. The ache in her chest grew to a sharp point. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound crass.”
“I know,” Marty said, pulling her sweater back on.
“Really. I was just trying to make you laugh.”
“No, you were trying to make you laugh.”
She didn’t know what to say. It was true, of course, but a little one-sided. Still, it didn’t seem like a good time to split hairs. “I’m sorry.”
“I believe you. I just don’t understand you.”
“Yeah, well, join the club.”
“Really?” Marty asked, the hurt evident in her voice. “That’s all I get?”
“Look, I said I’m sorry. I made a stupid comment. I make a lot of them. Ask Elaine. Crass remarks are kind of my thing.”
“Is it easier for you to tell yourself that?” Marty asked softly.
“What?”
“Does it make you feel better to just write yourself off as someone who says stupid things? Is it easier to cope with than the emotions of what happened between us?”
The heat rose in her cheeks again, and this time not in an enjoyable way. She should’ve seen this coming. The life coaching shoe dropped and kicked her right in the stomach. She deserved it. She sacrificed herself on the table of overanalysis, and shocker, she’d been found lacking. It was to be expected, but it wasn’t something she needed professional help for.
“Lisa…” Marty said softly, laying a hand on her shoulder.
She jerked away. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
She whirled, her insecurity snapping like a caged animal. “Don’t coach me.”
Marty’s eyes widened. “Coach you? Is that really what you think is happening here?”
“It’s what you do, isn’t it? You see the flash of insecurity, the little hint of weakness, the crack in the dam, and you have to pry it open. Isn’t that what a life coach really does when you get down to it?”
“No. But more importantly, I’ve never coached you. What we just did”—she looked down at the blanket on the floor between them, then closed her eyes like she didn’t want to see anymore—“what happened between us was the least coaching thing I’ve ever done.”
“But you said…you said all that stuff about me coping with my emotions, and you said I was…beautiful.” The word almost strangled her.
“You are beautiful. And you made me feel beautiful too, for a while. Then you pulled away. One minute you made me feel so safe and open and wonderful, like we meant something, then suddenly you’re talking to me like you just want a beer buddy to go get wings with.”
“That’s not how it is.” Lisa tried to stay strong, but the edge in her voice had gone soft.
“But that’s how you made me feel.”
Every bit of stone and glass she’d tried to hastily throw up around her fell to shambles at her feet. She pulled Marty close once again, holding her tightly to her chest. “I’m so sorry.”
“Well,” Marty said shakily, “I’m not going to lie and say I don’t feel a little glad for your remorse, but I’d rather have your reasoning. Why the back and forth? It’s been going on all day. One minute you’re reeling me in with all your charm, and the next you’re pushing me away.”
“You really think I’m charming?”
“You’re doing it again. You’re playing this part, this game, and it’s fun, but there’s more to you. I know it now. Why are you hiding?”
Lisa sighed and loosened her hold on Marty but still kept her arm draped around her shoulder. Even in her turmoil, it was better to have her close. “I like you. And the closer you get, the more I realize I could even fall in love with you.”
The rise and fall of Marty’s chest grew quick and shallow, but she didn’t speak. Lisa both admired and hated her restraint.
“I’m just not very good at emotions. I work with computers. I like black and white. If I mess up, I control-z to back out of it, and no one gets hurt or disappointed. People aren’t like that.”
Marty shook her head. “No, they’re not.”
“I disappoint people.”
“Your parents?”
“Yeah,” Lisa said, a muscle in her jaw twitching. She should leave it there. She always had, but for the first time she didn’t want to, not really. Something about Marty’s heart beating so close to her own made her weaker, or maybe stronger. “I couldn’t save Joey’s mom.”
“What?” Marty leaned back to search her eyes.
“I didn’t save Joey’s mom. She practically raised me. The Langs taught me what love really means, and I let her die of a curable disease. I was too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“I sold the code too late.”
“The code you wrote for the banks? The program you told me about?”
“Yeah. I sold it to help pay for the hospital bills, the treatments, but it was too little, too late.” Her voice caught at the memory. “If I’d done it sooner, if I’d been better, if I’d been more like my parents.”
“Lisa,” Marty kissed her jaw, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “You did a good thing. You made a tremendous sacrifice. You took on an unbearable burden, and you’ve paid the price for years.”
“For what?” Lisa said, not even recognizing her voice through the anguish. “It didn’t work. In the big moment, I couldn’t do enough. I’m not the person people depend on. I can’t be.”
“That’s not true. Look at what you’ve done for Joey and Elaine.”
“What have I done for Joey and Elaine?” she asked before silently adding, They’re both leaving.
“You got them together.”
“Oh, come on.” She laughed. “I almost got Joey branded a manipulative liar for the whole life-coaching appointment, and I could’ve gotten Elaine in trouble with her job too. It’s only because they’re both such upstanding, awesome romantic heroes that we can laugh about it now.”
“But you all do laugh about it now. Quite openly. And they love you.”
“They love me because I’m funny. Don’t you see? Funny is what I’m good at, the casual sidestep, the quick joke. I never let them see me sweat, but you”—she shuddered—“you saw me. When you looked up at me with those big brown eyes, you saw so much in me. I saw it in you too.”
“And?”
“It terrified me. I’m not the person you can pin hopes and desires on. I’m not a leading lady. I’m the comic relief. If you look to me for grand gestures, I’m only going to let you down, and damn it, I like you too much for that. I don’t want to be a fuckup in your eyes.”
“You’re not. Lisa, how can I convince you you’re not?” Marty pleaded. “I see everything in you that you saw in me.”
She hung her head, taking a deep breath of Marty’s scent, so warm, close and sweet. “Even if you don’t see it now, you will eventually, and then I won’t be able to live with myself. There’s no one in my life I haven’t come up short for, no one I haven’t lost.”
*
Marty didn’t know what to say. She’d coached plenty of clients with dismal self-esteem, and she’d been able to guide them toward an understanding of their worth, but this was different on so many levels. She didn’t have time, she didn’t have Lisa’s faith in the process or even a willingness to try. More importantly, though, she had no neutrality, no professional distance, no distance of any kind. Nor did she want any.
She wanted to be close to her to feel her skin against her once more, to touch her physically and emotionally the way she’d touched her.
She hooked a finger under Lisa’s chin and lifted it gently, but she couldn’t make her lift her eyes. “Please,” she pleaded, “look at me.”
When Lisa did, her hazel eyes reminded her of a wounded animal, timid almost to the point of being frantic. Her heart ached to see this strong, charismatic woman reduced to a shell of self-doubt. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the real Lisa any more than the comic façade she’d cultivated to protect herself.
“I wish you could see what I see in you,” Marty whispered.
“I can’t.”
“Let me show you.”
Lisa tried to shake her head, but Marty caught her face in her hands. “Please. I haven’t asked you for anything. No promises, no commitment, nothing you haven’t wanted to give, but I’m begging now. Let me show you what I see. Let me make you feel what I feel.”
She didn’t wait for an answer. She captured Lisa’s mouth with her own. It was all she knew to do, the only thing that felt right, but she was still surprised when Lisa responded. She opened up to her, inviting her tongue in, welcoming her exploration like a woman who’d spent entirely too long waiting to be found. Dropping the blanket between them, she clutched at Marty’s back, pulling her close.
Between Lisa’s jeans and her own sweater, they had only one outfit between them, but it was quickly shed.
“You’re beautiful,” she said.
Lisa shook her head almost imperceptibly as she whispered, “You.”
Lisa clung to her back, pulling her close and closing her eyes as if waiting to be kissed again. She was breathtaking, but Marty wanted more. She didn’t want to just take what was being offered, she wanted to return something, to feel it move freely, fluidly between them. She might not have anything else, anything past tonight, but that only made the importance of what she had to accomplish more acute.
Settling her body between Lisa’s legs, she let the weight of herself register against her, anchoring them both to the physical before pressing into the emotional. She ran her hand along the soft skin of Lisa’s chest and across the smooth surface of her abs, then drew a wide circle back up to cup her cheek. Kissing her once more, deep and fast, she pulled back only enough to see her fully, then, trailing her fingers south once more, she let her caress go lower, down to Lisa’s inner thigh before starting to inch up again, this time slowly.
“Lisa,” she said, “open your eyes.”
Heavy lids fluttered and closed again.
“Don’t pull away now. I want you to watch me. I want you to see.”
Small hazel slivers grew slowly into a hazy gaze, like a cat awaking to survey her surroundings. The eyes that had held so much mischief earlier now conveyed vulnerability, and a shocking amount of need.
Marty nearly lost her concentration at the sight of her spread out, with her dark hair fanned across their makeshift bed, the firelight casting a warm glow against the white of her skin.
“Do you see it yet?” Marty asked. “Do you see what I see?”
She didn’t wait for an answer as she brushed her fingers over Lisa’s center. “Watch me. Feel me.”
A groan escaped Lisa’s lips as the pressure between their bodies grew.
“You’re amazing. You feel amazing.” She continued as Lisa opened up to her. “You make me feel amazing.”
Lisa’s hips arched up, her body superseding whatever insecurities warred for control of her mind. Marty intended to vanquish them all. The head was the home of all things critical, all doubt, fear, and disillusion. The body was home to the most basic sense of self, the true form of knowing. She wanted them to exist in that space, at least until she’d made her see what that kind of connection could truly mean.
“Watch me,” she whispered. “Watch what you do to me.”
Lisa’s eyes stayed locked on hers, the haze of arousal replaced by intensity and awe.
“Do you see it yet?” Marty asked. “Do you see yourself reflected in my eyes?”
Lisa nodded, wordlessly.
“Good.” She slipped inside, her breath catching at the warmth, the heat, the utter perfection of their separate selves blending.
Lisa’s eyes closed, her head rolling back as Marty pushed forward into her all the way.
“Stay with me, baby,” Marty said, her voice no longer soft and clear through the arousal coursing through her.
“Yes,” Lisa finally said. “Yes.”
The word was so sweet, filled with so much more than surrender.
“Yes,” Marty echoed. “Do you feel it now?”
“Yes,” Lisa called out, pulling her forward.
Darkness had fallen outside, but the fire inside burned hot and strong, fueled by wine, desire, and waning time. She could feel it all now, the pressure, the potential, the urgency, and the need beneath it all. Shadow and light danced across them as their movements grew steadily closer, until finally, tangled together, she felt Lisa shudder and release, not just the tension of their combined need, but all the other wants and desires she’d held at bay.
She didn’t cry out so much as gasp, a single clutching sob as she shook, her forehead pressed tight against Marty’s shoulder as her breath ripped jagged and hot against her skin.
“I’ve got you,” Marty whispered. “I’ve got you.”
She kissed her hair, her cheeks, her neck, as the trembling subsided.
She pulled the edges of the blanket up around them and snuggled in beside her. They lay together as their heart rates slowed and exhaustion hung thick across their limbs.
“I didn’t know,” Lisa finally said in a small voice. “I didn’t know I could feel like that.”
“I did,” Marty confided.
“How?”
“You showed me. You’ve shown me so much in such a short time, your slow smile that gives away so much more than you mean to, the easy way you took my hand and led me up the stairs last night, the insights you let slip when you’re relaxed, the softness of your lips, the fire reflected in your eyes.”
“I like the way you see me.”
“It’s not me. I’m just the mirror, showing you what you’ve shown me all along.”
A little noise of contentment hummed through Lisa’s throat. “I like that too.”
“Good,” Marty said, kissing her temple, “because it’s the truth.”
Or at least part of the truth. As she lay there in the fading glow of the fire, watching the captivating woman before her relax into sleep, she had to admit, if only to herself, that somewhere in the space where they’d come most fully together, she’d shifted from showing Lisa what she was capable of, to trying to convey to her what the two of them were capable of—together.