Eighteen #5
She was close, and Gillian had put her there, both an absurdity and a triumph, but with no time or inclination to reflect on how they’d gotten here or why.
There was only one direction for them, and Gillian pressed forward with a certainty she’d long craved.
She had no idea where they were going, but she knew how to get there, and she would not stop, not for anything.
“Gillian.” This time when Daphne called her name, it came out high and pleading. “Please.”
So close. So close to what she wanted to hear, and she surged into a higher gear, sending them both into a frenzy.
Daphne cried out, clutching her with hands and legs, holding her in place needlessly as she rode the climax with fits and waves until on the final peak, she said the one, precious word they’d been working toward for as long as either of them had existed for the other.
“Yes.”
Daphne and Gillian collapsed right where they were, Daphne flattened back on the pillow and Gillian resting her head on Daphne’s thigh.
There was no more sparring, no more grappling, no more grasping, literally or figuratively, and without the pressing sense of urgency or guardedness, the emotions hit Daphne with nearly as much force as her climax.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d let herself be bowled over like that.
And by Gillian DeGarmo of all people. She’d learned long ago to keep her shields up around her, but she’d never faced such a formidable attack on them before.
Gillian had been different tonight. She’d carried a kind of conviction Daphne’d never had pointed at her before.
And as much as Daphne had tried to deny it early on, Gillian had been right from the word “go.” She’d seen straight through her bluster and bravado.
Then she’d set to work proving herself both consuming and thorough, because of course she had.
Nothing about Gillian being good at something should’ve surprised Daphne … and yet, she’d still been surprised.
Gillian had been confident and skilled, and oh my God, her mouth. No one could’ve seen that coming. Plus, she hadn’t even worked through the normal progressions. No script, no rest, deliberation, or wavering, no chance to reassert any kind of rational thought.
Shocking.
Daphne’d known she was cooked the minute Gillian pushed her onto the bed, but she was still wearing her shirt and bra, for crying out loud. And at work of all places. “Gillian, you had sex at work.”
Gillian chuckled against her skin. “So did you.”
“I think no one would be surprised by me. You, on the other hand …”
“So many would be flabbergasted, I’m sure.” Gillian crawled up the bed and lowered her long form beside Daphne. “Are you among them?”
“Understatement.”
“How gratifying.” Gillian seemed awfully satisfied, and Daphne couldn’t begrudge her that.
She’d earned it, and somehow, she’d done so without barely a strand of hair out of place.
It hardly seemed fair, and Daphne couldn’t resist the urge to rumple her a bit.
She placed a hand atop Gillian’s red head and give it a little tousle. “There, better.”
Gillian arched an eyebrow.
“I couldn’t take you looking so put together while I’m lying here fully wrecked.”
Gillian propped herself up on an elbow and stared down at her with a mischief in those green eyes she’d never seen before. “Fully wrecked?”
“Are you seriously fishing for compliments after that?” Daphne reached between them and tugged one of Gillian’s belt loops. “I’m over here unable to breathe or think or remember my own damn name, and you’re still wearing perfectly pressed slacks.”
“I must admit …” Gillian leaned close. “I am fond of this new dynamic.”
“I’m sure you are.” Daphne laughed. “And I’m not exactly complaining or trying to reassert my dignity yet, but we didn’t even kiss.”
Gillian seemed to think about the chain of events before saying, “What an oversight. The kissing is what got us here in the first place.”
“And where is here?” Daphne asked.
“In your office bed, each of us half-dressed.”
Daphne glanced at her casual shirt and Gillian’s dress pants. “Perhaps if you put us together, we’d be halfway decent.”
“I don’t know.” Gillian leaned closer. “I think we were just together and it turned out better than halfway anything.”
Daphne rolled her eyes. “God, if you weren’t so damn good at everything, you’d be insufferable.”
Then she surged up and kissed her. She hadn’t intended to, didn’t think it through, much like every other thing that had happened tonight, but she should’ve seen this one coming.
The moment her lips met Gillian’s, her body sparked to life again. Every previously listless muscle coiled as electricity surged through her, and they were off again, like before there was little preamble, but this time they were already prone and primed to go.
They were making out in seconds, the taste of her own desire still coating Gillian’s mouth only amplifying Daphne’s arousal. She ran her tongue along those lips, eager to consume all the evidence of where they’d been in her path to push even further forward.
Rolling Gillian onto her back, she climbed on top, straddling her slender waist and stripping off her own shirt.
The bra vanished next as she tossed it to the floor.
She was about to make a joke about the stark contrast to Gillian’s tidy pile of clothes, but when she looked down, normally light green eyes had turned a stormy shade of emerald.
Her breath caught. Being seen by this woman was almost as visceral as being touched by her.