Chapter Twenty-One
Charlotte trembled with anticipation as she stood in the doorway to the bedroom, watching Marin tuck Ember into her crate.
Anticipation . . . and maybe a little bit of fear.
Not fear of having sex with Marin, but what if Charlotte didn’t know what to do?
What if she failed to live up to whatever fantasies Marin had in her head from the romance novels she loved so much?
With Ember put away, Marin shut off the overhead light, then crossed the room to stand in front of Charlotte.
They’d left the light on in the kitchen, and it cast a warm glow over Marin’s features.
“I’m not trying to hide from you, Charlotte.
I just didn’t think Ember would settle for the night with the light on. ”
“Why would you hide from me?” Charlotte asked. After all, of the two of them, Marin had been the most eager to move things to the bedroom.
“I have scars.” Marin held her gaze, not flinching away, but even in the low light, Charlotte saw the insecurity in her features.
“I know you know that, but I haven’t been with anyone since before the accident, and .
. . I’ve never been with anyone I was attracted to. This is a pretty big deal for me.”
Somehow, it was a relief for Charlotte to realize they both had some insecurities about tonight.
“It’s a big deal for both of us. Your scars are a testament to what you survived, Mare.
I understand why you might feel self-conscious, but I’ve always found wrinkles and scars to be a beautiful and intriguing part of someone’s body. They’re marks of a life lived, right?”
Marin smiled, eyes glossy with unshed tears. “That’s a lovely way of looking at it. I’m not ashamed of my wrinkles or my scars, but I’m aware of them . . . and that I didn’t have them the last time I undressed for someone new.”
“It’s safe to say I find everything about you beautiful.” Charlotte rested her hands on Marin’s hips and drew her closer. “I always have. I didn’t know why I found you so captivating at first, or why I always wanted to find excuses to touch you . . .”
“I never dared to hope you felt the same way,” Marin said softly. “I thought I was doomed to the purgatory of lusting after my straight friend.”
“Have you thought about me?” Charlotte asked, toying with the waistband of Marin’s pants.
She had on gray pants that looked like jeans but felt soft and stretchy beneath Charlotte’s fingers, probably in deference to the long car ride.
Charlotte traced a finger over the front of them, loving the way the fabric hugged Marin’s curves. “When you touch yourself?”
She felt Marin inhale, a soft sound catching in her throat, and it made Charlotte ache with desire. It felt like a yes. It sounded like a yes. And it was unbelievably hot to picture Marin in bed, touching herself while she thought of Charlotte.
“Yes,” Marin whispered. “I have . . . even before we reconnected. I’ve thought about you a lot since we met on that bus.”
“Oh.” Charlotte gulped. Marin had mentioned that before, but maybe it hadn’t fully sunk in then.
It had now. Fuck. She surged forward, capturing Marin’s mouth.
This kiss was different from the ones they’d shared before.
This kiss felt like a lit fuse, like they’d ignited something that was barreling toward combustion.
There was no stopping them now, and beneath the heated onslaught of Marin’s mouth, Charlotte relinquished her insecurities about being able to satisfy a woman.
They both wanted this. They’d figure it out. And it was going to be amazing. How could it not be?
Charlotte fumbled with the button on Marin’s pants, loving the needy sound Marin made as it opened.
As Charlotte pushed down the zipper, her fingers brushed against the front of Marin’s underwear.
The fabric was delicate and undeniably feminine, and for a moment, her brain screeched to a halt at this tangible reminder that she was about to have sex with a woman. Record scratch.
Then Marin moaned, her hips pressing into Charlotte’s touch, and the sound provoked an answering ache in Charlotte’s core. She wanted this. So much. And as much as she couldn’t wait for her own orgasm, she was going to take even more pleasure from fulfilling Marin’s needs.
Charlotte thought of how many nights, how many years Marin had lain in bed beside her husband, dreaming about the day she could finally be with a woman, how she’d lain awake alone in bed after the divorce, still waiting. She’d anticipated this moment for so long, and now it was finally here.
And Charlotte was going to do her damn best to blow Marin’s mind.
“Lie on the bed.”
Marin heard the words through a haze of arousal, and it took a moment for them to register. Then she felt herself nodding, stepping backward, pulling Charlotte with her as Marin’s brain went into overload because she was getting into bed with Charlotte. This was really happening.
She sat on the edge of the bed, inhaling sharply as her pants pressed against her where she ached. Oh, this was the most delicious form of anticipation. To be this aroused just from a little kissing and touching . . .
“Can I undress you?” she asked Charlotte. “Please?”
Charlotte stood before her, cheeks flushed, hair messy, nodding eagerly. “God, yes.”
Without hesitating, Marin gripped the hem of Charlotte’s shirt.
Charlotte lifted her arms, and Marin tugged the shirt over her head, revealing a flesh-toned bra.
It was simple, an everyday bra, smooth and seamless so as not to show beneath her top, but to Marin, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen because it was on Charlotte.
Charlotte was watching her again, lips slightly parted as she lowered her arms back to her sides. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.
Running on instinct, Marin slid her hands greedily over Charlotte’s bra-covered breasts, then reached for the clasp between them, feeling a bit clumsy as she unfastened it.
It fell away, baring Charlotte’s breasts, and it took a moment for Marin to realize the gasp she heard was her own.
Charlotte’s breasts were so beautiful, large and firm, her pink nipples already tightened into hard buds.
Marin wanted to take her time touching them, but first . . .
She unbuttoned Charlotte’s jeans, then lowered the zipper, baring the front of pink cotton panties.
Marin’s core clenched at the sight. She pushed at Charlotte’s jeans, and Charlotte helped, shoving them down her legs and stepping out of them.
Her panties had a delicate lace trim that Marin was entranced by.
She traced it with her fingertips, rewarded as Charlotte’s breathing picked up speed. Marin touched her over the cotton, feeling how damp it was, and she knew her own underwear was just as wet, if not more so. She was already throbbing just from touching Charlotte.
Marin felt as if she’d gone into a trance.
All she could think about was exploring Charlotte’s body.
She’d waited so long to touch a woman, and for two years now, she’d dreamed of touching this woman.
Marin felt eager and greedy as she slid her hands over Charlotte’s skin.
Every touch aroused her as much as it seemed to arouse Charlotte.
Charlotte stepped forward, pushing Marin flat on her back on the bed.
In the next moment, Charlotte was straddling her, and Marin nearly lost her mind.
Charlotte’s warm weight pressed into her right where she ached.
Their bodies touched in the most intimate way, although separated by far too much clothing.
Marin gripped Charlotte’s ass, moving her against her, whimpering as Charlotte’s hips rocked against her clit. It was too much and not enough, and Marin was so overwhelmed—she had no idea what she wanted to do next when everything felt so goddamn wonderful.
“Can I touch you?” she managed, her voice low and rough.
“You’re still dressed,” Charlotte responded, reaching for the waistband of Marin’s pants.
“I know, but I . . . I need . . .” She gulped. “I need to know how you feel. Please.”
Charlotte let out the sexiest little whimper, nodding almost frantically. “Yes. Touch me.”
She rolled to the side, scrambling out of her panties, and Marin took a moment to appreciate the sight of her naked body, the golden curls between her thighs, glistening with her arousal.
Marin had imagined this moment so many times.
She’d looked at sexy images online, but she’d never actually seen a naked woman in person . . . other than herself, of course.
Now Charlotte was laid out before her, looking so goddamn beautiful.
She was a feast, and Marin couldn’t wait to devour her.
Marin slid a hand almost reverently over the dip of Charlotte’s waist to her hip.
Her skin was so smooth, so warm, so soft.
Goose bumps rose beneath Marin’s touch, and seeing them thrilled her, because it meant Charlotte was affected by this too.
Marin reminded herself to breathe, sucking in air as she trailed her fingers over Charlotte’s stomach, and then her fingers slid through Charlotte’s curls to the hot, wet folds beneath.
Oh wow. Charlotte’s breathing became labored as Marin explored her, slowly moving her fingers over Charlotte’s delicate flesh, familiarizing herself with Charlotte’s body.
“You feel so good,” Marin whispered. Her core ached more fiercely than ever, but it was a good ache.
The best. She fought the urge to grind herself against Charlotte’s thigh, instead savoring the anticipation, because tonight she was going to experience the pleasure she’d been craving. Tonight, it was all within her reach.