Chapter 22 Roche Limit
Roche Limit
Penelope exited her shower, and while getting ready, she contemplated the definition of insanity.
She never made impulsive decisions. Even taking action and going after Valentina had only happened after a year of research and planning. Yet this ill-advised thing with Lucia was full of impulsive choices. Worst of all, she’d undone her own request to keep their contact strictly digital.
But she hadn’t had it in her to resist. She wanted to see Lucia again.
Penelope still thought way too often about their kiss. Even when texting, they were caught in the same orbit, tethered by an invisible string neither dared to pull.
And now she’d gone and practically invited Lucia over. Soon she’d be in her home for the first time.
They’d be alone.
Still lost in thought, Penelope started when the doorbell rang. A glance into the mirror confirmed her blouse was still tucked into her linen slacks, and her braid held—though strands had slipped free and framed her face in soft waves. Casual enough, as if she’d made no effort.
“Hi.” She greeted Lucia with a smile and took in the sight of her: Her thick hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she was once more wearing low-riding blue jeans, paired with a maroon long-sleeved shirt she’d pulled up to expose her forearms.
“Hi,” Lucia said, smiling, too. Her eyes shone, and she nodded toward the two pizza boxes resting on her outstretched palm. “Your delivery, milady.”
Penelope let out a soft laugh, more relief than humor. “Thank you, kindly.” She gestured for Lucia to follow and place the boxes onto the dining room table mat.
“My pleasure.”
Then they stood there in silence.
Lucia stuffed her hands into her pants pockets while Penelope shifted on her feet.
“How did it go?” Penelope blurted out after the moment only seemed to protract.
“Good. I mean, aside from the little hiccup you got us out of.”
“Great. I’m glad I could help.” God! Why were they so awkward?
“You wanna eat? I’m actually starving. I got home, took a quick shower, and grabbed the food on my way here. I’m afraid I’ve not eaten much all day.”
“Oh, of course. We can’t have you starve. What do you want to drink?”
“Water is fine, thanks.”
Penelope disappeared into the kitchen and picked up their drinks and plates before settling with Lucia at the table.
“How come you didn’t eat more today? You keep telling me about the importance of food and taking your time when eating, yet…”
Lucia hummed between bites of her pizza. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “Yes. And I’m right, but that doesn’t mean I always act right.”
Penelope smiled faintly. “Too true.”
“I was too nervous to eat much this morning, and then the actual event… No time to eat, not that I’d have had much of an appetite there anyway.” Her shoulders slumped a little.
“Oh? What happened?”
“Nothing much. The usual. Skye being Skye and Jules…” Her brows furrowed.
“Did you fight?”
“Not really. She just said something that… OK, it annoyed me at the moment, but it’s been bouncing in my head since.” Lucia hesitated. “I’m kinda wondering if she’s got a point.”
“About what?”
“Just me and how I am. How I interact with people.”
Now Penelope frowned. “There’s nothing wrong with you or how you interact with people.”
Lucia smiled. “Thank you. And yes, I know that. Doesn’t mean there’s nothing I can work on or improve.”
“I suppose.”
They finished eating, their conversation shifting to safer waters, and Penelope felt lighter the longer they talked.
She couldn’t understand how interacting with Lucia always made her feel…
good. That word didn’t cover it—she felt light, yes, but it was more like the sun shone in her chest, warming her.
Her smile was too big, her laughter a bit too loud, her body at ease, yet still taut with awareness.
“Am I boring you?” Lucia asked, drawing Penelope out of her thoughts.
“No, no. I was just thinking… I really enjoy spending time with you.” Her cheeks heated.
Lucia smiled broadly. “That’s good, because I enjoy spending time with you, too. Even more so in person.” A pause. “Are you all right with this, you know, after your request during our impromptu lunch at work? I kinda invited myself over, and I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries. It just—”
“Yes. I’m fine. And you didn’t push. Besides, I didn’t have to say yes.” Fine might be an exaggeration, but it seemed the only answer that would let her keep Lucia close. And right now, she wanted just that.
“True. So we’re good?”
Penelope sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Yes.” She had no regrets, even though she likely should. Instead, she didn’t want the evening to end, but—
“Wanna watch something? I can clear the table, and you set up something to watch?”
“You’re my guest, and you’ve already brought food. Go sit in the living room while I clean up real quick.”
“It’s no problem.”
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“I know, and I appreciate the offer.” Penelope shooed Lucia in the direction of her living room.
She tore her gaze away from the way Lucia’s ass looked in those jeans and cleared the table.
Normalcy was almost a relief, something mundane before stepping onto shifting ground again.
A few minutes later, she joined Lucia with two steaming cups. “You still drink ‘some kind of red’ tea?”
Lucia laughed. “Yes, thank you.”
Fuller strode out of her little doughnut-hideout cave and stretched.
“Oh, you must be Fuller.” Lucia reached out her hand, and Fuller sniffed it before rubbing against her. “Aww. You’re adorable.”
Penelope smiled.
They settled on watching an old movie, but neither seemed to be paying much attention. They sat close to each other, not to start with, but as time passed, they subconsciously drifted closer.
And now Penelope sat there, heart thumping in her chest like a rabbit escaping a predator (not that Lucia was aggressive or anything, but that didn’t make her any less dangerous), and Penelope’s thoughts were all over the place.
She felt like a high schooler—sitting next to her crush, wanting to hold her hand but too scared to move, while her mind still questioned everything.
“Hey,” Lucia breathed, gazing at her.
“Hmm?” was all Penelope managed, lost in the warmth and pressure of Lucia’s thigh pressing against hers.
“We don’t have to watch this.”
“Huh?” Penelope’s hands fidgeted with the hem of her blouse.
“You don’t seem into it. I must confess, I only suggested watching something because…I didn’t want to leave.”
Penelope smiled. “I didn’t want you to go either.”
Lucia pushed a strand of hair behind Penelope’s ear. “What do you want?”
She gritted her jaw. “Something I shouldn’t.”
“Hmm. What you gonna do about that?”
Penelope balled her hand into a fist to keep from trembling when Lucia’s intense gaze almost burned her.
Lucia just sat there, so calm and steady, holding Penelope’s gaze with endless patience, clear she’d not make a move.
It had to be Penelope’s choice. After all, she was the one who kept saying she shouldn’t, how this was wrong—that they were over before they’d even begun.
She was a hypocrite because while her mind agreed with these assessments, her heart ached and her body burned for this kind, talented, funny, and beautiful woman who didn’t just bring joy and warmth into Penelope’s life: she offered comfort.
Her body betrayed her long before her words did—leaning closer, pulse hammering, breath shallow.
When “Please kiss me” finally slipped out, it wasn’t a choice at all but the inevitable spill of pressure that had been building since that time on Francesca’s balcony.
Lucia’s soft smile slipped, replaced by something fierce and reverent.
The way she looked at her—God—Penelope didn’t think anyone had ever looked at her with such naked longing before. She shivered.
Lucia’s fingers skimmed Penelope’s cheek, light, reverent, asking. She leaned in slowly, so damn slowly, Penelope almost snapped and yanked her close until the distance melted away.
A gasp escaped Penelope when Lucia’s lips found hers, soft, a gentle return that deepened in an instant.
Lucia gripped Penelope’s arm and tugged her closer.
Penelope followed, and pressing into the kiss, she licked into Lucia’s hot mouth, sucking at her tongue as heat flooded her veins.
God, yes.
Penelope’s thoughts stilled, lost in Lucia’s nearness, her taste, her scent.
She caught Lucia’s hand and guided it to her breast, a broken sound slipping past her lips. She drew back a fraction, mouthing, “Touch me.”
Lucia’s breathing hitched, and she claimed Penelope’s lips again, closing the distance and drawing her thumb over a stiffening nipple.
Arousal coiled low in Penelope’s belly.
Shifting, Lucia trailed her hand down Penelope’s torso and slipped quick fingers under her blouse. She scratched up Penelope’s quivering stomach before encasing her breast with her hand.
Penelope deepened their kiss, cupping Lucia’s face.
Lucia pulled down one side of Penelope’s bra, tracing her fingertips over a stiff nipple and rolling it between her fingers.
Penelope’s hips jerked forward as a soft moan spilled from her lips.
Their kisses intensified until Lucia’s hands traced back down to the waistband of her pants. She stopped, her fingers tapping along the fabric.
“Is this OK?”
Penelope could only nod, but her body was once more moving faster, and she took hold of Lucia’s hand to guide it beneath her linen slacks.
Lucia panted.
Penelope bit her lower lip when Lucia’s warm fingers drew across her panties.
They fell into another kiss, and Penelope shuddered when Lucia’s fingers, still atop the fabric, ghosted over her clit.
Lucia broke the kiss and stilled her hand.
Losing herself in the depth of Lucia’s gaze, Penelope barely refrained from closing her thighs to regain pressure.
“I want to taste you,” Lucia pressed out.
Groaning, Penelope’s eyes fell shut as she leaned back against the couch. “Yes.”
Lucia smiled and shifted to the floor. Her hands found Penelope’s waistband, tugging her pants down her legs.
Penelope lifted her hips to help, and the panties followed suit.
The garments out of the way, Lucia knelt in front of Penelope, grasped her legs and spread them wider, settling between them. A faint tremble ran through Lucia’s hands, as if desire pulsed just under her skin.
Their gazes locked, and in near slow motion, Lucia lowered her head and nuzzled the top of Penelope’s mound.
Penelope’s knuckles strained as she found purchase on the armrest. She didn’t beg, but if Lucia didn’t—
A broken sob spilled from her lips the moment Lucia licked up her length and sucked her hardened nub into her mouth.
Lucia’s fingers dug into Penelope’s thighs as she swirled her tongue, grazing the swollen flesh with her teeth.
With a groan, Penelope grasped Lucia’s head—her fingers tangled in soft curls, trying to find an anchor against the wave of arousal coursing through her, setting every nerve alight.
Lucia trailed her fingers under Penelope’s blouse, up her twitching stomach, higher, reaching her breast. She slid under Penelope’s bra, tugging at her nipple before rolling the stiff bud between her fingers.
Penelope’s eyelids fluttered, drowning in the heat coursing through her.
“Go inside,” she croaked.
Lucia’s grip on her thigh tightened and she pulled her hand down, her fingers massaging Penelope’s entrance before pushing inside with first one, then two fingers.
The stretch wasn’t enough. “More,” Penelope rasped.
Lucia immediately heeded her request, adding a third finger before picking up the pace of her tongue and thrusts.
Penelope’s body arched, a taut string pulled to its breaking point.
Racing toward climax, Penelope tightened her grip on Lucia’s hair. Her body strained, and she fought to slow down the build, to bathe longer in the sensations Lucia’s clever tongue and deft fingers chased through her.
But to no avail.
Her hips rocked up, and she gasped when Lucia applied the perfect amount of pressure—her tongue dipping low and pressing inside just as her fingers pulled out.
“God.” She grunted.
Lucia’s tongue sought her clit again, and she increased both speed and pressure with an intoxicating focus.
After a moment, Penelope’s body locked.
A broken shout.
Her body quaked as an explosive climax rushed through her frame, releasing years’ worth of tension in a heady rush of heat flooding every muscle.
Lucia held on to her, but slowed her movements, guiding Penelope through a series of aftershocks.
Out of breath and with a languid relaxation flooding her body, Penelope pulled at Lucia’s arms. “Come up here.”
After one last playful lick that made Penelope twitch, Lucia scrambled back onto the couch, hovering over Penelope.
“You are stunning,” she said.
Penelope had no reply, so she grasped Lucia’s head and pulled her down, sinking into a deep kiss.