13. Once Upon a Broken Frame #3
“I love it when you finally grasp something and it transforms your whole face. So expressive, so gorgeous. What, you were never selfless? My darling, neither was I. Yes, at first I found you interesting, certainly beautiful and too smart for your own good. But nothing more than what romance novels call ‘a cinnamon roll.’ One that was already so tortured by life. I gave you maybe a passing thought.”
Chiara’s thumb dropped to caress Vi’s lower lip, as her fingers gripped her jaw tighter, and for Vi, the world stilled. Even Paris outside was reverentially silent. Nothing else mattered but this, right here.
“But you are just too bright, too luminous. And even standing in my studio, in wet clothes and dirty shoes, teasing my ridiculous cat… I looked at you and I saw you. And I have kept looking ever since, because I couldn’t stop.”
The thumb on her mouth was sending ripples of pleasure all over Vi’s body and making her brave, braver than she’d ever been.
She closed her lips, trapping the fingertip and giving it a slow lick, and it was Chiara’s turn to gasp.
But she recovered rather quickly, and the now wet finger trailed down Vi’s throat and settled on her collarbone.
“And then you do something like this, be it voice an idea, or lick your lips or anything really, that would engage not just my mind or my heart. But parts of me that I pledged to my wife, parts of me that had been asleep for years. And can you fault me when you are always so absolutely alluring?”
Chiara suddenly surged forward and replaced her thumb with her mouth, as if trying to reassure Vi that what had been happening in the past half hour was real.
This was happening. And how could she find Vi’s steady affection so unbelievable, when Vi was so in love it hurt her chest, because there was simply not enough space in there, between her ribs, to contain all this love, all this devotion?
But Chiara’s mouth was real, and whatever it hadn’t said out loud, it was doing an amazing job of conveying with gentle caresses and careful little nips to Vi’s lower lip. It was glorious. It was magnificent. It was better than their kiss on the roof—
Remembering how that had ended, however, made Vi’s mind and her body screech to a halt. She raised her hand, but Chiara had already sensed her hesitation and stopped immediately. A part of Vi wanted to cry all over again.
Instead, she took a deep breath. “On the roof… You said you were sorry.” Vi shook her head, her voice quiet. “It made me so unsure. So afraid.”
“Darling, of what?” Chiara’s brow was furrowed in concern, her eyes searching.
“That you might break me.” The words surged from her in a hoarse whisper, and Vi knew she’d spoken nothing but the truth, even if she had never voiced it before, not even to the emptiness of her dark room.
“Oh Vi. I would never. If you believe one thing tonight, let this be it. I was sorry that I kissed you without your permission, without asking for consent.” Chiara seemed to struggle for words before soldiering on.
“I am older, certainly I should be wiser… My marriage has been a sinkhole for a while, and despite me trying my best to ignore it, to not disappoint, to be worthy of her, I felt my unhappiness slowly choking me.”
Vi wanted to interrupt, to scream and rage at Frankie, at the world that made this miracle of a woman feel unworthy.
But Chiara had that look in her eyes, the look of trying to get all the words out before something stopped her, so instead, Vi tucked a stray flyaway behind her ear and nodded for her to continue.
“I was worried that I was using you and you were going along with it. I wanted to stop and ask you.” Chiara’s hands shook slightly, and she made a move to reach for Vi, but seemed to reconsider at the last moment, gripping the counter, her knuckles white.
Vi’s shoulders sagged under the sheer relief.
Chiara did not regret anything. Chiara had wanted to kiss her.
Chiara wanted her, period. She grinned, even as Chiara’s uncertainty turned into exasperation at the sight of her smile, so clear now on her face, eyes wide, brows raised, the wide mouth set in an adorable pout.
“But I didn’t know—”
“Well, if only you’d have stopped your self-righteous, woe-is-me march off the roof and listened to me, maybe you would have!” Chiara threw her hands up, then whispered conspiratorially. “It’s okay though.”
Her expression had all the subtlety of a cat that had eaten a whole bowl of cream. And would probably go back for more any second. Vi trembled for all the right reasons now, and her stomach tightened.
“Is it?” Her voice was quiet even to her own ears, and she bit her lip to hold herself back from blurting out, ‘let me get down on my knees in front of you, right here at the breakfast bar.’
When she raised her eyes, Chiara’s were knowing, seeing.
“Yes, darling. It showed me that perhaps I was worried for nothing, and that you wanted me as much as I wanted you. But before this goes any further, this time, I’d like you to use your words and tell me. One ‘no’ from you and I will leave.”
Chiara spoke calmly, matter-of-factly almost, but her voice broke a bit at the end of the sentence.
“I will always be grateful for this summer. For you giving me the strength to survive the worst day of my life. And I will always, no matter what happens, cherish you. So if you say ‘no,’ I’ll understand and go. Or you can say ‘yes’…”
Chiara stopped, and now it was her turn to bite her lip. Vi shivered at the sensuality of the gesture. Chiara slowly let go of the now plump, red lip and smirked. Vi felt her own smile widen.
“And what happens if I say ‘yes?’”
“Whatever it was you were thinking a second ago, whatever had your eyes go dark, hungry… All of that happens. But you have to be sure, darling. I have so much baggage, and I’m in so much trouble, all sorts of trouble, and not just over you—”
It was Vi’s turn to press her fingertips to Chiara’s lips, and the sensation of that inviting, willing mouth under her skin—despite having kissed it only minutes ago—was addictive. She never wanted to stop touching it, caressing it.
“I know you’re trouble, and I know you’re troubled. I don’t care. I want you.” She leaned in, and Chiara actually moaned into her mouth. With that, Vi suddenly remembered that one tiny circumstance that wasn’t actually tiny at all.
“Except… Well…”
“What is it, darling?” And the concern, the honesty in those eyes, nearly undid Vi. She lowered her face and mumbled.
Chiara’s sigh was teasingly exasperated.
“Darling, you will have to speak up. Communication is key here.”
Vi ran her foot over the cold metal rung of the barstool until she felt Chiara’s arm touch hers.
“Tell me? Is it about being tested? I was months ago. And I haven’t been with Frankie for over a year now…
” Vi’s eyes widened and Chiara’s smile was self-deprecating.
“I told you, our issues started long before, and infidelity is honestly not the biggest problem. By far. But let’s not go into all that now.
What were you trying to say before the floor got so very interesting that you had to talk to it instead of me? ”
Vi laced their fingers together, her thumb caressing Chiara’s soft skin.
She knew what it must’ve cost Chiara to come here, what it meant for her to be this brave, and that it was Vi’s turn to find her own courage once again.
So she lifted their joint hands to her mouth, kissing Chiara’s fingertips, gently biting one, making both of them tremble. Into the breach then .
“I don’t have experience.”
Chiara’s brows lifted and her eyes gentled. But before she could reach the wrong conclusion, Vi hurried on.
“No, no, I’ve been with women before. Well, one woman and she was older, and it was a long time ago, and… I just don’t want you to have any expectations, you know. I might not be very good at this.”
“I see.” The corners of Chiara’s mouth twitched, before giving in to the smile playing there. “Why don’t you let me worry about that?” She lowered her gaze a little, seeking eye contact and murmured, “if you’re sure?”
Wonderful, amazing words. Vi’s heart was full, but it was time to move past talking. Words were no longer enough. She had pined and longed for this woman all summer.
And the moment she had yearned for had finally materialized. Chiara was here, holding her hand, mischief back in her eyes. So Vi nodded and leaned in.
Right before their mouths touched, Chiara’s teasing, “an older woman, huh?” made both of them smile, and when their lips collided, so did their joy.
They kissed leisurely, Vi still unsure, exploring, testing and Chiara allowing her to take the lead.
From the kitchen to the alcove that held the pristine bed with its fluffy coverlet and soft pillows, by way of the walls and an armchair that they almost fell into, their progress was slow. But oh-so arousing.
Gentle touches and tentative caresses. And kisses. All the kisses. Vi could not stop her mouth from taking more. And Chiara gave everything.
Hands on jaw, a tug on hair to raise the other’s face, to angle the chin, to bare the neck to careful nips, then back up for another kiss and another.
Vi’s mouth kept returning to Chiara’s, unwilling to be distracted by the soft skin, by the expanse of it, as she slowly undid the buttons of Chiara’s Oxford shirt.
But soon her hands pushed the fabric aside, and her eyes caught sight of the lace underneath and the breasts encased in it, and Vi’s mouth actually went slack as her movements halted.
“I should’ve known you’d be a breast girl.
” Chiara’s chuckle was decidedly dirty. And very self-satisfied.
So Vi bit her clavicle, then licked the spot where her teeth had left shallows marks and continued to leave a wet trail downward with her tongue, wiping that smirk off Chiara’s face when she reached the top of the bra and sucked there.