Chapter 19 #3
“Sometimes talking about sex can feel weird, I know,” Rebecca said. “It’s why we should talk, so we can figure it out. It doesn’t have to mean anything to anyone but the two of us. And also there are tons of things we could do instead.”
I shook my head. “No, let’s go. I still want to be on top.”
She laughed. “Yeah, Gardner, I figured. Come here.”
I straddled her, wrapped my arms around her shoulders and held onto her tight as she nudged, poised at my entrance. It hit me that I wouldn’t have tried this before, would have trusted Rebecca but not myself in this literal position. It was far too vulnerable.
“How’s this?” she whispered, moving slowly. “Say the word and I’ll stop.”
“Don’t stop.” I shifted my hips to take more of the length of the vibrator, breathing hard as I moved against her. “Sorry, I’m overwhelmed. It’s like you’re everywhere. I feel like I’m full of you.”
“Fuck, Gardner,” she murmured, kissing the curve between my neck and shoulder. “The things you say.”
I shifted again, and again, swiveling my hips in search of a rhythm.
I worried it was awkward, but the thought couldn’t fully settle in because Rebecca matched me.
We moved together, her other hand on my ass as I rode her.
There was nothing about this that made me feel like I was in control, I realized; even on top of Rebecca I felt desperately tied to my sharp need for pleasure, for release.
But what, I wondered, did I really need control for?
We weren’t making eye contact in this position, which had felt safer to start.
But already, safety felt like someone else’s concern.
What was I so afraid of? I let go of Rebecca’s shoulders, leaned back and clutched the comforter with both hands for support as I rolled my hips.
Rebecca bit her lip, let out a moan as she watched me, and I realized I still felt powerful, a way I’d never known power could feel.
Heat flooded me from my center out, an electrical surge in a heat wave. I tightened around her and it rippled out, practically bending me in half as the orgasm rocked through me. As the rush of waves ebbed, I collapsed toward her, against her, buried myself in her arms.
“I l-like you,” I said, horrified at how close I’d come to blurting out something I wasn’t even sure that I meant.
“Yeah, I l-like you too.” Rebecca kissed my forehead, and I wondered if she was teasing me or she was stuck between those two feelings, too. “Should you check on your dog?”
Now that the buzzing in my head had quieted, I realized Rosie was barking sharply at the door.
“I worry she thinks I murdered you,” Rebecca said with a grin.
“What a way to go,” I said, burying my face against her neck. I loved how she smelled after sex, the perfume I imagined she sprayed on each morning combined with sweat and musk. “I wish I could comfort her without getting up. I’m so cozy.”
“I’ll be here when you get back,” she said, so I extricated myself from her arms and pulled on my robe before opening the door and sitting down next to Rosie on the floor.
“Hi, my little monster,” I said, scratching under her ears. “See, I’m fine. Definitely not murdered.”
She leapt into my lap and gave me a look.
“I know,” I said, because sometimes I really did feel like Rosie and I could directly communicate with each other. “Hang on.”
I leaned into the bedroom, where Rebecca was scrolling her phone.
I hoped she wasn’t getting a Lyft. Would I always be worried about Rebecca getting a Lyft?
“Hey, if this is weird, you can just say it’s weird, but Rosie’s used to sleeping in the bed, and I thought maybe if we tidied up and put away the People’s Choice Award that she—”
“Of course!” Rebecca hopped up. “Can I borrow something to sleep in?”
“Check the third drawer down,” I said, trying to hide how happy I was that she’d be sleeping next to me again as I pulled the comforter off the bed. “I realized we also forgot to unmake this at all.”
“I’m sure your dry cleaner can get lube out of chenille.” Rebecca slipped on a nightshirt of mine that was distractingly shorter on her. “Do you have a backup?”
“It’s in the linen closet down the hallway,” I said, and she practically groaned. “Yes? Are you OK?”
“The thought of multiple closets,” she said. “A closet down the hallway! You’re living my dream.”
It didn’t take us long to clean up the bedroom and climb back into bed, this time under the covers. Rosie stood, staring at us, and I laughed and rubbed her little face.
“She normally sleeps behind me,” I said. “I don’t think she knows what to do with you in her spot.”
“Sleep behind me instead, Rosie,” Rebecca said, leaning over to pet her. I knew that dogs didn’t know English—and if one was intelligent enough to gain the power of language, my money was not on Rosie—but she did dutifully scamper over and curl up behind Rebecca.
I tried not to say I loved her yet again, even though I’d had no idea what it would feel like to watch someone be so sweet to Rosie, or to see Rosie curled up with someone in my bed. If things continued like this, it was going to be very hard to keep holding it back.