Chapter 9
Dru
Isit up and throw her over my lap and immediately smack her ass a few times.
“Nooo,” she whines, but she’s laughing.
“No? No what?”
“Um…no, Sir?”
Hearing her address me like this is heady fucking stuff, sending chills up and down my spine. She really gets my androgyny, and it’s a high I could ride all damn night. But I have to keep my shit together.
“I do love the sound of that, but that’s not what I was asking. What do you want, baby?”
“I want to ride you,” she says, and the words are like a fucking aphrodisiac.
“Fuck, yeah,” I tell her as I get onto my back on the floor once more and lift her over my body so she’s straddling me.
She braces her hands on my shoulders until her sweet little pussy is lined up with mine. She’s so damn wet, just dripping onto me, and it’s hot as fuck.
“Come on, Evie. Ride me.”
She begins to move, her body all sinuous curves, her heavy tits so beautiful.
Delectable. I take them in my hands, palming the full flesh, then squeezing a little, and she arches into my hands.
I start to play with her nipples, plucking, squeezing, pulling on them, and they get harder and harder.
And her sleek, wet pussy is grinding down onto my clit, pleasure shimmering me through me, over my skin, deep inside me.
I begin to arch up against her, fucking her as she fucks me, and it feels so damn good, like nothing has ever felt before. And I watch her swaying above me as she throws her head back, biting her lush pink lips, panting harder and harder.
I’m right there with her, sensation taking over, every point on my body that’s in contact with her lovely flesh acutely aware—that, and the sight of her, this woman I am so in love with.
That thought doesn’t stop me for once. Instead, it drives me on, need spiraling so high I can barely keep up with it.
And as she grinds harder down onto my clit and I start to come, she cries out, her body shaking as her climax hits her, as mine tears into me, and we tremble and pant and groan together.
“Evie…baby. Yeah!”
She collapses onto me while we’re still shivering, although I’m not really coming anymore—or maybe I still am a little bit.
I’m too far gone to even tell. I just hang onto her, my arms tight around her soft body, and we stay there together for a long time, bathed in the Christmas lights.
Bathed in the way we feel for each other.
I have never been happier in my whole life.
We lay together for a while, catching our breath. We’re tangled up in each other, arms and legs and heated skin, and her face is buried in my neck. I inhale, taking in the scent of her hair, our come, the scent of sex all over us. But it’s not just sex.
No.
Not with her. It never could have been only sex with Evie. I’ve always wanted more.
We finally manage to get up off the floor, and leaving the tree lights on, we climb into bed and snuggle up together like a litter of puppies. I’m so relaxed and comfortable. Comforted by her presence in a way I don’t think I ever knew I needed.
But I know now. And I can’t ever let her go.
Somewhere in the middle of the night a huge roll of thunder wakes me up, and I squeeze Evie, who’s still snug in my arms.
“Dru?” she says groggily, and I’m not even entirely certain she’s awake.
“What is it, baby? You okay?”
“Mmm. Love you, Dru,” she mumbles.
My heart fucking hammers in my chest, and suddenly I am wide awake.
Did she really just say that? Does she know she said it? Does she mean it?
I say her name quietly. “Evie?”
But she just sighs and tucks her head into my shoulder.
I lie awake in the dimly gleaming lights on the tree. Thinking. Remembering. Wondering about us. About where this thing that’s happening will go, where I want it to. Asking myself if Evie wants the same things I do. Laughing at myself for being such a classic dyke.
I want her to move in with me. To find a job down here so we can be together, because obviously, I can’t move. And I need to be with her. I need to wake up to her face every morning. Fall asleep with her in my arms every night.
I start making excuses in my head as to why this would be the sensible thing to do.
We’ve actually known each other for seven years.
We spent that whole year hanging out when I was dating Marcy—it was almost as if Marcy knew the relationship wasn’t right, and she’d always have Evie around as a buffer.
We spent that year talking about everything: family, music, movies, our childhoods, politics, current events.
She confided in me about her dating drama, came to me for advice, and fuck, it pained me to even hear about her seeing anyone, no matter how selfish I knew I was being.
The thought of her being with someone else now hurts, like a knife to the gut.
I’ve dated a few other women since Marcy, but none of those relationships ever got too serious. And it’s because of Evie.
I’ve loved this woman for years. This is not something new to me. And I frankly don’t give a fuck if anyone wants to accuse us of U-Hauling. That is, if Evie will agree to it.
She has her work, though—her career. Is it even right of me to ask her to give up her job and move in with me? She did say she hates her boss, but she worked her ass off to get her Master’s degree. I don’t have a right to come between her and her career goals.
And finally, am I getting too far ahead of myself? Because that seems like the sensible answer. Or, it would be for someone else, but this is us.
My mind spins for a good hour or more before I finally wear myself out, and manage to drift off.
Evie
When I wake up Dru is still in bed with me and fast asleep, which is surprising. They usually wake up early. I must have worn them out last night.
I get up and go brush my teeth, then heat the kettle to make coffee, pulling out the French press and the beans.
Luckily, she already has some ground so I don’t need to run the grinder and wake her up.
I manage to make the coffee, adding a dash of cinnamon, which she seems to like this time of year, and hopefully I did it right.
I carry my mug and one for her over to the bed and set them both on the nightstand, then sit on the mattress, just staring down at her.
She is so damn beautiful. Her features are so streamlined, from her high cheekbones to her fine, strong jaw.
And her lashes are so dark against her cheeks.
I can even see the tiny creases where her dimples are, and my finger aches to touch them.
I don’t know why this is such a thing for me, but it is.
As I sit there and simply look at her, this woman so full of strength and confidence, this woman who is so caring and funny and good, my heart fills nearly to overflowing.
And as I think all of these things, the storm outside starts again with a small crack of thunder, and I remember something that happened last night.
Or did it? Did I mutter that I love her?
Maybe I was dreaming. Or maybe she didn’t hear me. Or, fuck, maybe I said it and then left her hanging to deal with however she felt about it.
Her eyes flutter, then open, and she smiles up at me.
“’Morning, baby.”
“Good morning. I made coffee.”
“You did? Thank you. Come here and kiss me,” she demands.
I lean over and kiss her sleepy mouth, and when I pull away she smiles up at me.
“You’re so beautiful, Evie,” she says, still smiling, and it’s those devastating dimples again.
Nervous suddenly, I hand her coffee to her, and she struggles to sit up before taking it, leaning her back against the wood headboard.
“Everything okay?” she asks me after taking a few sips.
“Um, yeahhhh…”
She arches one dark brow. “But…? Because I can hear that ‘but’ in there.”
“But… Did I… Did I say something in my sleep last night?”
She pauses before answering. “If you were asleep, how do you know you said anything?”
“Because I sort of seem to remember… something.”
She takes another sip of her coffee, studying me, then she sets her cup down.
“Baby. Come over here.”
I move closer, and she pulls me onto her lap so that I’m straddling her. She holds my cheeks in her hands and looks into my eyes, and my stomach is fluttering—it’s those butterflies again, but this time it’s nerves too.
I wait for her to say something, but she’s still just looking at me, from my eyes to my mouth and back again, and every possible emotion seems to be shifting across her features.
“Dru, what—what is it?”
“Sorry, baby. I’m behaving like I’m in high school. Look, I just need to know if you meant it.”
“Meant…what?” I ask, but I know exactly what she’s talking about. “No. Sorry. I mean, yes, I did say… that I love you. And of course I meant it. And apparently you’re not the only one behaving like a nervous, clumsy kid.”
I wait while my heart hammers; it feels as if it’s trying to break right out of my chest.
A slow smile spreads over her face, and relief washes over me, making my knees weak.
“So,” I start, “it seems like that was a good thing?”
“Yeah. So good, Evie. Because I love you, too. I am so, so in love with you, pretty girl.”
Relief and happiness flood my body, making me go warm, and the weakness in my knees spreads all over.
“Oh my god, Dru! Why didn’t you just say so?”
She chuckles, and I’m smiling because I’m so damn happy, but maybe a teeny bit annoyed—more at myself than with her—for not just having the guts to make this an actual conversation instead of doing this tip-toeing dance around it.