Chapter 42 #2
But Scottie wasn’t watching her hand. She was looking at Willow, a big smirk on her face. “So…harder…and using two fingers… That’s your secret?”
Heat crept up Willow’s neck, but she held eye contact. “Yes. Of course, you need to have the right rhythm too.”
“Of course.” Scottie laughed huskily. She tried a few more notes before her fingers drifted higher.
“Um, Scottie?”
Scottie turned her head. “Yeah?” Her low voice vibrated through Willow the same way the bass notes had earlier.
Their faces were only inches apart. The air between them felt charged with something that had nothing to do with static.
Willow cleared her throat. “That’s my fingers, not the strings.”
“Mm, I know,” Scottie murmured and trailed one fingertip down the back of Willow’s index finger, sending shivers up Willow’s arm and through the rest of her body. “They feel so much better than the strings.”
Willow decided then and there that they’d had enough bass lessons for one day. She pulled the strap over Scottie’s neck, set the bass carefully on its stand, then reached for Scottie instead.
Scottie surged toward her, and their lips came together in a kiss much more urgent than their earlier one at the door. Her mouth was warm and hungry and tasted faintly of marzipan.
Willow tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of Scottie’s neck. She shifted closer, wanting to feel more of her, and Scottie responded by twisting around so their bodies pressed together more fully.
Scottie kissed with a devastating combination of passion, emotion, and a hint of playfulness that drove Willow wild—deep and demanding one second, then teasing Willow’s lower lip with a soft nip the next.
Scottie slid one hand down and beneath Willow’s sweater. Her fingertips caressed the bare skin at the small of Willow’s back, then lightly trailed up her side, leaving tingles everywhere they touched.
A low whimper of want escaped Willow. She ran her hands down Scottie’s arms and gripped her biceps.
The love seat felt too small, too confining, all of a sudden, and Willow was about two seconds away from straddling Scottie’s lap.
The light flared brighter for a moment, then a loud, popping noise sounded above them, and the room was thrown into darkness.
They jumped and pulled apart, both breathing heavily, with their lips only an inch apart.
Willow clutched Scottie’s arms. It took her kiss-dazed brain a few seconds to understand. The light bulb. She’d actually blown the damn thing out!
Mortification washed over her like a bucket of ice water. She let go of Scottie and pressed one hand to her tingling, swollen lips. “I’m so sorry!”
“I’m not complaining,” Scottie replied, her voice husky.
“I meant about…” Willow gestured upward, then realized Scottie couldn’t see it in the dark. “The light bulb.”
Scottie removed her hand from beneath Willow’s sweater and smoothed the fabric down. “Was that…you?”
In the past, she would have denied it and quickly made up an excuse, but with Scottie, she didn’t want to do that. “Yes.”
Scottie’s hand, which had been stroking slow, soothing circles at the small of Willow’s back, stilled. “I thought that only happens when you’re stressed, nervous, or upset. Were you—?”
“No,” Willow said hastily. She didn’t want Scottie to think, even for a second, that she’d upset her in any way. “It doesn’t usually happen like this. But once or twice, when I got really…um…” Her face burned. “…turned on, the light bulb flickered or popped.”
“Oh.” Scottie went quiet for a moment, then repeated: “Oh.” The second “oh” was longer, less stunned.
Willow could hear the grin in her voice—not a teasing one, more a big, happy, proud one. She lightly slapped her thigh. “Stop grinning.”
“Never.” Scottie put her hand on top of Willow’s, then intertwined their fingers, loosely keeping them resting against her leg. “Hey.” She leaned her shoulder against Willow’s. “You have absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. Okay?”
Willow exhaled and relaxed against Scottie’s shoulder. “Okay.”
They sat like that for a few moments, holding hands in the dark.
“In fact,” Scottie added, her voice low and husky, “I think it’s pretty hot that I could make you do that.”
Of course Scottie would say something like that—something reassuring and completely undoing at the same time. Willow bumped her shoulder. “You think everything’s hot.”
“Everything about you,” Scottie said.
Warmth filled Willow. She stroked Scottie’s knuckles with her thumb. “I spent my entire life hiding that part of me. I can’t see it the way you do—as something fascinating or hot or even remotely positive. At least not yet.”
“I get that,” Scottie said quietly.
And for the first time in her life, Willow felt that there was someone who really did. She pressed a kiss to Scottie’s cheek, then shifted her weight forward to get up. “I should go replace the light bulb.”
“Wait.” Scottie held on to her hand, keeping Willow next to her on the love seat.
“There’s something I’d like to talk about.
I didn’t think today would be the right time, but maybe now is perfect after all.
I have a feeling it’ll be easier for you if I can’t see you blush—even though I think it’s super cute. ”
Willow sank back against Scottie’s side. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Sex,” Scottie said simply.
Even just hearing the word in Scottie’s still slightly hoarse voice made heat pool low in Willow’s belly.
“Once we make love, how do we keep ourselves safe?” Scottie asked.
Oh. Willow blinked. She hadn’t had reason to think about safer sex in a very long time. “I got tested after my last time. Um, it’s been a while—an embarrassingly long time, to be honest—but everything came back negative. So I’m good.”
Scottie squeezed her hand. “Hey. That’s not embarrassing. There are no rules about how often you’re supposed to have sex.”
“Right.” Willow squeezed back. “How about you?”
“I got tested after Tanya broke up with me. Just in case,” Scottie said. “All negative too.”
“Good,” Willow replied.
Scottie hummed her agreement. “And it’s great that we talked about it. But that’s actually not what I meant. When we make love, the only thing I want to short-circuit is every nerve ending in your body. How do we make that happen?”
Willow flushed. “Uh, you mean, what do I like in bed?”
A husky laugh came from Scottie. “Oh, we’re definitely going to talk about that. But I meant, how do we avoid getting zapped in sensitive places or burning the place down?”
“Oh.” Willow flushed again, this time so hard she wondered if she was glowing in the dark. Now she was indeed grateful Scottie had stopped her from replacing the light bulb. “There are a few things that help. For starters, banning any electronics and battery-operated devices from the bedroom.”
“Even the fun ones, hm?”
“Even the fun ones. The one time a girlfriend insisted we use a vibrator…” Willow winced. “Let’s just say it didn’t end well.”
“No battery-operated toys, then,” Scottie said, not sounding bothered. “Got it. What else?”
“I try to always ground myself by touching a metal object, something connected to the floor like a radiator or the bed frame, before I touch my partner.”
“Metal object,” Scottie repeated as if she was compiling a mental list. “Okay. Anything else?”
“The sheets have to be one hundred percent cotton or silk. If we roll around on synthetics, we’d be creating a lightning storm of static.”
“Mmm, silk.” Scottie let out a hum. “No objections from me.”
A vivid image hit Willow: Scottie’s warm, bare skin pressed against her front while cool silk slid against her back.
She shoved it away before she forgot how to breathe and focused on the list of helpful tricks.
“I also usually run a humidifier in the bedroom for about an hour before…you know. And I put on lotion because dry skin builds up charges.”
“All right. Keeping things nice and moist. I can do that.”
“You!” Willow nudged Scottie’s knee with her own, and they burst out laughing.
Once their laughter faded away, Willow lifted their intertwined hands to her lips and kissed Scottie’s fingers. “I’ve never been able to talk about this with anyone. Thank you for bringing it up.”
“I want us to be able to talk about anything,” Scottie said.
Willow nodded, even though Scottie couldn’t see it. “I want that too.”
“So now that we’ve established the safety protocol, I’m interested in the other question—the one you thought I was asking—too. Very, very interested.” Scottie’s voice dropped an octave at the last three words, sending a shiver through Willow.
“I don’t have a ton of experience when it comes to sex.” Willow bit her lip, but with Scottie, she didn’t mind admitting it. “I’m not one to jump into bed on the first date. Or even the third.”
“I gathered that,” Scottie said gently. “And just for the record, I’m not pressuring you.”
“Pressuring me?” Willow echoed. “Just for the record, if I didn’t have the presentation first thing tomorrow morning, I’d ask you to stay over tonight.”
Scottie groaned. “And here I thought I couldn’t hate Sorensen more than I already do.”
A chuckle rose from Willow’s chest. “Same here. But maybe it’s a good thing—that we’re talking first, not jumping into bed, I mean.”
“Yeah. I think so too. So what were you trying to say before I interrupted, about not having a ton of experience?”
Willow sighed. “Some of my relationships—if you can even call them that—ended before we ever got that far. But even when we did, it was hard for me to let them touch me. To enjoy it without bracing for a zap or the TV turning on in the middle of things, blasting a WWII documentary.” The memory made her grimace.
Scottie tightened her grip on Willow’s hand. “I can imagine. Talk about a mood killer.”
“Exactly. It’s really hard to let yourself go when you’re worried about blowing the light bulb or making your girlfriend’s smart watch go haywire. I could rarely relax enough to…you know. Climax.”
Willow had expected Scottie to make a joke to lighten the mood or to say something reassuring, promising she wouldn’t have any problems getting her there.
But Scottie didn’t say anything; she just continued to soothingly caress her fingers.
Willow tried to make out her features in the dark. By now, her eyes had adjusted, so she could see Scottie sitting with her head tilted in that typical attentive way, as if her entire universe consisted just of Willow. Somehow, it was more reassuring than any promises she could have made.
“So, to be honest,” Willow finally continued, “most of what I know about what I like comes from…touching myself.”
Scottie shifted next to her. “If that would help you feel safe and relaxed, I’d be totally up for that.” A sexy rasp slipped into her voice, and she paused to clear her throat. “It would be incredibly hot to watch you touch yourself. But only if that’s what you wanted.”
Renewed heat flared through Willow, and this time, it wasn’t just embarrassment.
The mental image of Scottie watching her, eyes dark and hungry, as she unbuttoned her blouse and slid her hand down…
“I… No. I mean, maybe down the road. But when we make love for the first time, I don’t want you to just watch. I want you to touch me.”
Scottie let out a groan. “I want that too.”
Willow’s breath hitched at the need in Scottie’s voice. Now she was the one who had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I’m afraid there’s not a whole lot more I can tell you. We’ll have to figure it out as we go.”
Just the thought of it—of Scottie exploring her body to find out what she liked—made her tingle all over.
Scottie brushed her thumb over Willow’s knuckles again. “We can definitely do that.”
“There’s one thing that might help…”
“Anything,” Scottie said without hesitation.
Willow had never admitted it to anyone, always afraid it would sound weird. “I think it would help me relax if I could…keep some control,” she said quietly.
“Makes sense,” Scottie replied. “You have to control where to touch, how to touch, and how to let people touch you in your everyday life so tightly, it figures that you can’t just stop doing that in bed.”
Willow sat very still, stunned at how Scottie not only got it right away but made it sound as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “Yes,” she croaked out.
“I can work with that.” Scottie nodded decisively. “Actually, I think that would be pretty—”
“Hot?” Willow finished with a shaky laugh.
“Very,” Scottie said. “Like I said: Everything about you is hot to me. You giving up control—hot. You taking control—hot.”
Willow stared at her. Sometimes, she still thought Scottie was too good to be true. But she trusted her to mean what she said. “I don’t want it to be all about me and what I want, though. What do you like?”
“Oh, I’m pretty adaptable. Most of all, I love making my partner feel good.”
Willow nudged her with her shoulder. “What do you like?” She emphasized every word. “For yourself.”
“If my partner…if you are into it, I’m a total sucker for oral.” Scottie paused. “Pun intended.”
Willow laughed so hard she nearly slipped off the love seat. “Oh my God! You’re impossible!”
Scottie chuckled. “But you love me.”
Willow’s laughter softened, and she found Scottie’s face in the near dark, tenderly cupping her cheek. “I love you.” She leaned toward her and kissed her—not with the same heated urgency as before but slowly, gratefully, and full of wonder at how easy all of this felt.
Scottie kissed her back with just as much emotion until the temperature in the room started climbing again.
Groaning, Scottie broke the kiss and pulled back a few inches. “Break’s over.” She trailed her thumb across the curve of Willow’s lower lip. “If we don’t stop now, we’re both calling in sick tomorrow, and you’ll be out of a job.”
“Yeah,” Willow said, still out of breath. “You’re probably right. I should get back to work.” She sighed but couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she went in search of a new light bulb.