Chapter Seven #2
Quite a bit of activity out there for mid-morning.
Several boats that were still—likely fishermen or folks just chilling.
A few speeding by in the distance, pulling inner tubes or rafts.
A couple of Jet Skis zipping here and there.
But here, by her little wooden floating dock, it was quiet.
The wood seemed fairly new, not rotted or splintered in any way, so she stretched out on her back, one knee up, inhaled a deep breath, and blew it out slowly.
The sun shone down on her, drying and warming her body in a matter of seconds, and she suddenly felt very comfortable and relaxed.
Eyes closed, she let her mind drift, the buzzing of boat motors in the background lulling her into a state that felt something like a waking sleep.
And in her mind, there was Evie. Past Evie, with her long, dark hair and deep brown eyes.
Wide smile, her face coming closer until she pressed her lips to Rowan’s, and Rowan felt her body relax and wake up at the same time, which didn’t seem possible.
And God, Evie always knew just how to kiss her.
She always started slowly, easing into it before deepening things, before sliding her hand into Rowan’s hair, around the back of her head to pull her in tighter, before pressing into Rowan’s body with her own, before requesting entry for her tongue, which Rowan always gave her.
She almost fought the dream/memory/fantasy/whatever it was, but she was too tired.
It had been so long since somebody had touched her, kissed her, what was the harm in indulging in a little daydreaming?
Right? She swallowed, consciously relaxed her muscles the way her therapist had helped her learn to do, and it took no time at all to sink right into the fantasy of Evie…
It was always about her skin for Rowan. Evie was velvety.
It was how Rowan always thought about the softness of her skin, and she couldn’t get enough, constantly touching her, stroking her, running her fingertips down an arm or rubbing the back of Evie’s hand with her thumb.
And then it was about her mouth. Evie’s mouth was heaven, whether Rowan was kissing it or it was moving along her body, there was nothing but bliss.
Sex had never been an issue for them. They might have argued here and there (though Rowan had little recollection of any fights), and they might have ultimately broken up, but none of that had anything to do with their sexual compatibility.
In the back of her mind, Rowan worried she’d never click with somebody that way again.
Shaking that thought away, she told her brain to focus on the fantasy. She was warm now, the sun gently heating her skin, and her mind took her back into the water, but this time, with Evie.
Rowan’s back was to the floating dock, watching as Evie swam up to her, right up to her, until there were mere millimeters between their bodies, and Rowan’s back hit the ladder.
Evie’s leg pushed between hers and Rowan wrapped her legs around Evie’s waist while Evie grabbed the ladder behind Rowan to keep them from floating away.
As if on their own, Rowan’s arms went up and around Evie’s shoulders, her neck, and pulled her in until they were kissing.
Deeply. Hungrily. Evie tasted so familiar—a little sweet, a little salty, all Evie.
The memory crashed through Rowan’s subconscious like a football mascot busting through a banner as it ran onto the field, and she felt that old familiar fluttering, low in her body, just below her belly button.
Evie’s tongue pushed into her mouth as she let go of the ladder with one hand, ran it up Rowan’s side, and cupped her breast through her bathing suit.
Obediently, her nipple hardened in an instant and poked against the nylon fabric as though trying to get to Evie’s palm.
A moan came from one of them, but she wasn’t sure which.
Evie grabbed the low neckline of Rowan’s suit and pulled it enough to free one breast. She had to put her face in the water, but she didn’t seem to care, taking Rowan’s nipple into her mouth and sucking hard enough to make Rowan gasp.
Evie came back up and without missing a beat, kissed her again.
The ladder extended down several steps, and Evie put her feet up on one of them.
Now Rowan was basically floating in Evie’s lap, which seemed to be what she wanted, ’cause access.
She pulled back from the kiss to look Rowan in the eye as she slid her hand down between Rowan’s legs to the swollen flesh there through the fabric of her bathing suit.
With one finger—just her fingernail, really—Evie gently scraped against Rowan’s center.
Who knew such a gentle touch could send absolute shockwaves through her body?
Holy shit. Evie continued with the motion, moving from one side to the other, her eyes locked with Rowan’s, and soon Rowan was moving her hips.
Subtly, but in rhythm with Evie’s finger.
Breathing slowly became more ragged, and Rowan tightened her arms around Evie’s neck as they moved together.
Evie never even went beneath Rowan’s suit.
She didn’t have to. Rowan’s orgasm was on her in an instant, a growl ripping from her throat as her muscles spasmed, and then she whispered Evie’s name, riding out the wave until her body began to—
“Hey, whatcha doin’?”
The voice yanked Rowan back to the present with a gasp, and her entire body jerked in surprise. She sat up too quickly and saw Stevie climbing the ladder out of the water.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the crap out of me,” Rowan said, looking down at her own legs, worried that her own hand had drifted down or that Stevie might read in her expression what she’d actually been thinking about.
Her center still throbbed from the memory of her fantasy, and part of her was irrationally angry at Stevie for interrupting it.
Stevie laughed. “Sorry about that. I thought you’d hear me splashing in your direction. I called you. Did you drift off?”
That was a better explanation than the real one for why she hadn’t heard. “Yeah, I must’ve.”
Stevie was wearing her usual board shorts and sports bra combo.
It was what she always wore to swim, hating the way what she called “girlie bathing suits” looked on her.
Blond hair spiked up, even when it was wet, she sat down and bent her knees, her arms casually circling them, and sighed with what sounded like contentment.
Rowan had always wanted to adopt Stevie’s brand of chill but had never been able to quite harness it.
“Nice out here,” Stevie said, scanning the water. “I thought the boats would be louder.”
“Well, they’re pretty far away.” They sat quietly for a moment. “Sara here yet?”
“About an hour.” Stevie smiled like she couldn’t help it, like she had no control over her face, and Rowan loved that she was so happy she was going to be with her wife again soon. She envied it.
“You doin’ okay?” Stevie asked her, not looking at her. It was something she always did when asking a serious question, as if eye contact would make things uncomfortable.
“I am.” Rowan almost left it at that, but this was Stevie, and she knew she could tell her anything. “It’s a little weird, not gonna lie.”
“The Evie factor?”
A nod. “Yeah. I didn’t expect her to be here.”