Chapter 15
15
C ool fingertips skirt over my shoulder, then across my back to ghost over the nape of my neck, sending goosebumps skittering across my bare skin. I hold completely still, struggling to keep my breathing calm. The fingers continue their path to my other shoulder, then up to rest lightly on my jugular. The dull press of a pointed nail into the vulnerable spot makes me gasp involuntarily, and a husky, rich laugh from beside me follows in its wake.
“So responsive,” Blair murmurs, the rest of her fingers wrapping around my throat and tilting my chin up oh so gently to meet her eyes. Their usual dark brown is replaced with a supernatural red, and her fangs gleam in the low light as she smiles down at me.
My pulse leaps, and I swallow heavily as the ache between my legs builds. Wet arousal drips down my thighs, and I fight the urge to squirm and create some kind of friction to relieve the need coursing through me.
I can’t move. I need to be good for her.
“Such a good girl,” she murmurs, echoing my thoughts. She lowers herself down in front of where I’m kneeling, the hand on my throat sliding down my sternum to rest on the swell of my breasts. “What do you want, Grace?” she asks, her blazing eyes still locked on mine.
My answer falls from my lips immediately. “You.”
Blair moves in a flash, dipping her head to scrape her teeth against my throat as her hand cups my breast. I moan as she sucks on the delicate skin, her mouth and tongue and teeth all a teasing hint of what she’s going to do.
She pulls back and I whimper at the loss. “Say it again. Beg me.”
“I want you. I need you. Please.”
She lets out a pleased hum. “I’ll give you anything you need.” A second later, there’s a bright flash of pain as her fangs sink into my neck.
I wake up gasping, with one hand on my neck and the other wedged between my thighs. I’m soaked, and so close to coming I could cry, the pleasure from the dream still searing into me. It wouldn’t take more than a few circles of my clit… if I can just get the image of Blair back into my mind.
The fingers working between my thighs freeze and my eyes pop open.
Holy shit.
I almost came while thinking about Blair.
I grab my phone from the bedside table, wincing at the pain in my neck that must’ve been what woke me up. Pulling up my text thread with Mona, I send her a message.
Grace: Sex dreams don’t mean anything, right ?
It’s just after 7am, so she should be awake soon. I stare at my phone screen as my mind races.
It felt so real . When I said I wanted Blair, it was a bone-deep urge. I’ve never had a sex dream like that before.
Grace: You don’t think I’m like you, do you? You had all those dreams about Max and they ended up happening.
Another minute passes, and as the shock wanes, embarrassment about my overreaction takes its place. Weird shit happens in dreams all the time. I once dreamt that I starred in a Broadway musical adaptation of an alien smut book I read.
Mona: Who did you have a sex dream about??
Grace: It doesn’t matter. I was being silly.
Mona: Tell meeeee.
Mona: Don’t be embarrassed if it was me. I had one about you before. Well, it was a hybrid of you and our math teacher, but I think that still counts.
Grace: Which one?
Mona: Mrs. Thembold.
I snort. Our Calculus teacher was at least 65 and dressed like she was 80.
Grace: Ewww, Mona!
Mona: Don’t kink shame me!
Mona: And stop trying to change the subject. Tell me who you had a dream about .
I have the strong urge to pretend I have to go get ready for work and don’t have time to talk anymore, but we both know that I’m up earlier than usual.
Mona: It was Blair, wasn’t it? I knew it! I’ve been holding my tongue, but I see the way you look at her. Plus, every time I’ve tried to bring up you having a crush on her, you did that thing with your face that tells me you’re hiding something.
My phone drops out of my hands as I shove the covers down and sit up, suddenly overheated. What is she talking about?
Grace: What face? I don’t make a face!
Mona: Girl, you’ve been doing that thing where you look down and up really fast since we met in middle school.
It’s annoying how well she knows me, but she’s wrong this time. I haven’t had a crush on Blair. Yeah, I think she’s really pretty and I get excited whenever I see her, but that’s not the same thing as liking someone.
Is it?
I snatch my phone back up and type out a hasty reply.
Grace: Well, maybe I do that. But this isn’t the same. I don’t have a crush on Blair.
Mona doesn’t respond for an agonizing few seconds.
Grace: I don’t!
Mona: Okay. You don’t. You’re the only person in the universe who doesn’t, but if you say you don’t, I believe you.
A lump forms in my stomach, the same one I get whenever I’m dishonest with my best friend.
Grace: I like Blair a lot. She’s really cool and interesting. I enjoy spending time with her and I’d have to be blind to not think she’s hot. That doesn’t mean I have a crush on her.
The dream memory of her lips at my throat flashes in my mind, and there’s a dull throb between my thighs, serving as a strong counterpoint to my statement.
Grace: Shit. Do I have a crush on Blair?
Mona: Yeah, babe.
Grace: What does that mean?
Mona: What do you mean, what does that mean?
Grace: I’m straight. I like men.
It’s true. I’ve spent my entire life being low-key obsessed with guys. Growing up, I would spend hours writing in my journal about my crushes and my dreams for my future, where I’d marry the perfect guy and have a fairy tale life. As I got older and my gangly body filled out, I loved knowing men were attracted to me. It’s a double-edged sword and I’ve been harassed more times than I can count, but there’s an annoying part of me that craves attention and validation from men despite that.
It’s not like I’m scared of being gay. Yeah, my dad was a little conservative and prejudiced when I was growing up, but he’s come around on that. He even puts a rainbow flag up next to his American flag during pride month, because he wants the gay couple across the street to know he supports them. So I wouldn’t have to worry about familial fallout from coming out.
When Mona told me she was bisexual, I was happy for her because it meant she’d maybe not end up with another trash boyfriend. She seriously has had the worst taste in men—Max aside.
Hell, I even had a moment where I wished I liked women, so I didn’t have to deal with toxic manchild bullshit. But for better or worse—mostly worse in my case, given my terrible marriage and dating track record—I’m solidly into men.
So, then why does the mere thought of Blair right now send my pulse racing?
Mona: You can like men and not be straight. Trust me, I know.
Mona: I feel like this would be better to talk about in person. Take the morning off and come over.
Grace: I can’t take the morning off just because I had a sex dream about Blair!
That, and I’m now questioning everything I thought I knew about myself.
Mona: Yes, you can. It’s called a mental health day. Your asshole boss can deal.
Mona: I know you. You’re freaking out and won’t be able to focus until you work through what’s going on in your head.
Mona: I’ll get Max to make us pancakes.
I really shouldn’t. I save my wellness days for when I’m in severe pain, or at least that’s what I tell myself. Since I can work from home, I usually force myself to work even when I feel awful. But Mona’s right. I won’t be able to concentrate.
Grace: Pancakes sound good. I’ll grab coffee from Celia’s and be over around 9:30.
Wait. Shit. I can’t go to Cafe Celia’s. What if Issac is there? The last thing I need right now is an awkward interaction with one of Blair’s submissives.
Grace: On second thought, I’ll skip the coffee. Too awkward.
Mona: You’ll be safe. Isaac doesn’t work on Monday mornings.
Grace: How the hell do you know that?
Mona: I told Max about him standing you up for that date and he may have used his skills to find out Isaac’s schedule so we wouldn’t run into him. He offered to dig up some dirt to get him fired so you could go whenever you wanted, but I figured that once the situation was a little less fresh, you’d miss Isaac’s lattes.
Grace: Your fiancé is amazing. And a little scary.
Mona: He is
Mona: See you in a bit!
“Okay. Enough stalling. Tell me about Blair.” Mona pokes her fork out toward me accusatorially.
I swallow my mouthful of pancakes, my eyes darting over to where Max is cleaning up in the kitchen.
“He has earbuds in and is listening to a podcast. He can’t hear us.”
I narrow my eyes and raise my voice to test the validity of her statement. “Do you remember that time that you stole that boy’s underwear from his gym locker?”
Mona’s eyebrows shoot up in alarm. “That was a dare!”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t a dare that made you keep them in your bottom drawer for two years,” I say even louder.
Mona reaches across the table and smacks my arm, but there’s zero reaction from Max. He’s either the best actor in the world or he can’t hear.
I rub my arm, playing up the mild sting. “Ouch! I’m delicate.”
“Baby. You’ll have to get used to it if you’re going to do anything with Blair.”
“She told you?!” I ask, my brows shooting up in alarm. We only had the conversation about Blair being my domme last night. Did she immediately text Mona after?
“Whoa, hold on. What?”
Oh. She was teasing me. Shit. “I, uh, nevermind.”
“Grace Lynn Ashbrook! Don’t give me that crap. What’s going on?”
“Fine! Blair came over last night to hang out and I accidentally overshared about my disaster of an attempt at a scene with Declan. She offered to teach me how to be a submissive instead.”
Mona’s eyes grow comically wide and her mouth hangs open. “And you agreed?”
“Well, yeah. Should I not have? I know she only offered because she feels bad for me, but she’s a professional. If anyone can help me get past the nonsense rattling around in my head, it’s her. ”
That and the thought of Blair dominating me makes me shiver with anticipation.
“She definitely didn’t offer because she feels bad for you. Blair doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to. And trust me, she definitely wants to do you.” She cackles at her own double entendre.
“Mona!” I say, my cheeks heating at the insinuation. “No, she doesn’t. She’s being a good friend. That’s it. She told me it doesn’t have to be sexual.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, right. Max is your friend, but you wouldn’t let him dominate you, would you?”
My eyes dart back over to the handsome redhead who is obliviously scrubbing a pan. Max is really sweet and attractive, but no way. Beyond the fact that he’s obsessed with Mona and would never so much as look at me, it would feel wrong. “What? No! That’d be super weird.”
Mona snorts at my reaction. “Relax, it wasn’t an offer. Merely illustrating a point.”
“There’s a difference between your fiancé being with me like that, and our friend doing it.”
“Why?” Mona asks, baiting me.
I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Because it’s too intimate!”
Mona takes a casual sip of her coffee, her lips twitching in amusement as she sets the cup back down. “If trying out kink were something nonsexual to you, it wouldn’t freak you out so much to think of doing it with Max. Or me, for that matter.”
“You’d be a terrible domme,” I say, trying to ignore her annoying logic.
Mona laughs and nods. “Yeah, probably.”
I shove a bite of pancake into my mouth and glare at her. I thought coming over here was supposed to help me, but I’m even more worked up now.
“Don’t give me that look. Stop trying so hard to ignore what’s staring you in the face. You have a crush on Blair.”
“I don’t?—”
She holds a hand up to cut me off. “You do. There’s nothing wrong with that. If you don’t want to do anything about it, then don’t. Just because you had a sex dream about her doesn’t mean you need to do it in real life.”
My eyes drop to my cup of coffee, staring into the liquid like I can divine what to do from the shapes in the foam.
Mona continues, her voice softer. “If you do want to do something about it, that’s okay, too.”
I look up to see she’s watching me with gentle compassion that reminds me why I love her so much. She’s my rock when I’m freaking out. If she’s pushing me on this, it’s because she cares.
“Is it? How do I know if it’s real attraction or a passing blip brought on by admiration and post-divorce sadness? I’ve never wanted to… Sure, I think women are sexy, but I’ve never fantasized about being with them like I do men. Well, other than that dream last night. And yeah, maybe I like to watch lesbian porn, but that’s because I don’t like how violent most straight porn can get.” I’m rambling now, and the more I talk, the more I confuse myself. “You know what I’m trying to say,” I add feebly.
“I do.” Mona nods. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s how I felt at first when I started figuring things out.”
The concerned way she says it is like she’s diagnosing a disease, not talking about her bisexual awakening, and it amuses me enough to ease some of my stress. “Yeah, but I’m not…”
“You don’t have to pick any label the second you have a crush on a woman. Chill. Let’s look at this in a different way. Forget straight, gay, bi, whatever exists. Step back for a moment and think about when you first met Zack.”
I grimace at the mention of my ex-husband. “No thanks.”
Mona reaches out and squeezes my hand. “I know he’s a total bastard, but you loved him. How did you feel when you first met?”
“Like I was about to make the worst mistake of my life,” I grumble.
“Grace.” Mona says my name like a chastisement.
“Ugh, okay.” I let myself go back to that time. I’ve actively tried to rewrite my history with Zack, so what he did doesn’t hurt so much. But Mona is right. I loved him. I hate it, and I wish I didn’t, but I can’t change that. “I felt nervous every time I saw him, but in the good way that makes you a little giddy. I wanted to spend all of my time with him. I’d get this fluttering feeling inside me whenever he looked at me. I…”
Shit. I know where Mona is going with this, and it terrifies me. “I dreamt about him. I’d think about him having his way with me.” Mona nods encouragingly, and I continue. “Little did I know he would have zero interest in taking control like that,” I say with a wry laugh, trying to push down the way my thoughts are racing.
She chuckles but says nothing. Silence stretches between us and a wave of emotions wash over me.
Nerves.
Excitement.
Worry.
Hope.
“I like Blair.”
“Shocking.” Max’s wry voice startles me, and I turn to see that he’s done with the dishes and pulling out his earbuds.
“I thought you said he wasn’t listening!” I scowl at Mona and she holds her hands up in surrender .
“I didn’t think he could hear us, I swear!”
“I wasn’t listening,” Max says with a chuckle. “My podcast just ended, and I wanted to give my fiancée a kiss before I headed upstairs for a bit.”
I glare at him in disbelief, but his easy, calm smile stays in place. He’s good at bluffing. “Sure, sure.”
He bends down and kisses Mona’s cheek, and the way she lights up at his casual affection makes my heart ache. I thought I had something good with my ex, but it was never like that, even at the beginning. I can’t help being a little jealous of how in love they are with each other.
Max gives me a knowing look as he stands back up and heads out of the kitchen.
As soon as he’s gone, Mona turns back to laser focus on me. “You like Blair.” I can tell it’s taking everything inside her not to say “I told you so”. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. Probably call off the lessons she offered,” I say with a sigh.
“What?! Why?” Mona exclaims in horror. “You like her! You want to try out kink and she’s more than willing.”
“I…” It takes me a second to come up with the right words to explain the mixture of hope and worry roiling inside me. “What if she touches me, and I realize that I don’t actually want her that way? I don’t want to treat Blair like an experiment. She means too much to me.” I rest my face in my hands and sigh.
“Aww, honey…” I hear Mona’s chair scooting backward, then feel her hand on my arm a few seconds later. “Come here,” she commands, pulling me up into a hug.
I accept it willingly. Mona’s hugs are the best. I’m tall enough that my chin slots easily onto her shoulder and I let her soft, loving hold comfort me .
When I pull back, she grips my arms and holds my gaze. “Talk to her about this.”
“I can’t…”
“You don’t have to tell her you’re crushing on her right away. Just… you’ve already agreed to have her teach you about kink, so why not ask for everything you want to try in that context? That way, you can safely figure out if you like it or not without hurting her feelings.”
“You think that would be okay?” I’m not sure it’s a great idea, but I can’t ignore the spark of excitement at the prospect.
“Yeah. Oh! I know!” Mona lets go of me and claps her hands together, then grabs her phone. “There are a bunch of different online kink checklists. I’ll send you one that looks good, or you can ask her for one, since she probably has them for work. Then you both can fill the form out and say what is and isn’t on the table, without the awkwardness of directly telling her you want her to fuck you face-to-face.”
I want to argue, but it’s a good idea. “Alright. Yeah. Fuck, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“Hell yeah, you are. You’re adventurous and amazing. If it doesn’t work out, it’ll be okay. Blair isn’t the type of person to stop being your friend because you’re not comfortable with something. But…” A salacious grin spreads across Mona’s face. “If it does work out, you have to promise to tell me everything.”
I laugh. “Deal.” I pull her into another hug. “Thanks for this.”
She squeezes me back. “Anytime.” A heartbeat passes and she groans. “God, I hope Max wasn’t lying. I’ll never hear the end of it if he heard about that thing with Stephen’s underwear.”