Chapter 25
Rose
Rose woke up before Lizanne. She lay still for a moment, taking stock. Her throat was sore but manageable. Her head was clear. Through the curtains the morning light was already warm and the house was quiet in the way it got when Daisy was still asleep.
She turned her head. Lizanne was on her back beside her, one arm thrown over her eyes, breathing slowly.
Still in yesterday’s clothes because she hadn’t wanted to leave Rose alone long enough to change.
Rose looked at her for a long moment and felt the full weight of the last two days settle over her.
Lizanne had made terrible eggs and held Daisy while the smoke alarm screamed.
Daisy had told her this yesterday evening, in awe of Lizanne’s kitchen towel-wielding skills.
Lizanne had rubbed garlic oil into the soles of her feet without being asked.
She had been there for her. Without cameras. Without anything.
She got up quietly and went to shower. She stood under the spray and let the heat work on her shoulders and thought about nothing, which was a luxury she hadn’t had in days. She was just beginning to feel like herself again when she heard the bathroom door.
Lizanne appeared on the other side of the glass, her hair a mess, her eyes searching.
“Daisy?” Rose asked.
“Still asleep.” Lizanne looked at her through the steam. “How do you feel?”
“Better.”
Lizanne stood there for a moment. Then she stripped her shirt and panties off, opened the shower door and stepped inside.
The space was large enough for two only if they stayed close. Rose looked at her and that sweet spot between her legs throbbed.
She reached out and pushed the wet hair back from Lizanne’s face.
Lizanne’s eyes closed briefly. That small involuntary thing, that leaning in — Rose had been watching her do it for days now and it still caught her every time.
Lizanne was so careful with herself in every other context.
Only here, only like this, did she just lean in.
Rose kissed her.
Slowly at first. Lizanne kissed her back with both hands at her waist and Rose felt her exhale and pulled her closer. Lizanne stood in the steam and let her.
Rose took her time. She kissed her jaw, her neck, the curve of her shoulder, the base of her throat — staying at each place until she felt the response, the catch of breath, the shift in how Lizanne was holding herself.
Lizanne’s hands moved to Rose’s face and stayed there.
She was trying to be still. Rose could feel the effort of it in the tension across her shoulders, the deliberate way she kept her breathing even.
Rose pressed her lips to her collarbone and felt her swallow.
She moved lower. Kissed down her ribs. She sucked in her nipples only long enough to elicit a gasp from Lizanne.
She knelt.
The water came down across her back and shoulders. She looked up at Lizanne through the steam. Lizanne’s head was tilted backwards, her long neck exposed, her ample chest rising and falling. When Rose pressed her mouth to the inside of her thigh, Lizanne’s hand went to the tile.
Rose moved without rushing. Her tongue slid between Lizanne’s folds, cherishing her, tasting her. Lizanne was quieter than Rose, more contained even now, but her hips moved and the hand at the tile pressed flat and the sounds she made lost their edges by degrees.
Rose held her steady and felt her give way in increments, the trembling in her thighs, the way her head dropped forward, the moment her hand moved from the tile to the back of Rose’s head and pressed down. Not asking. Just there. The last of the composure going.
“Rose….”
She reached up, her hand cupping Lizanne’s breast, her finger rubbing her nipple which was already hard.
The dual sensation of her fingers and tongue sent Lizanne over the edge and she groaned hard for a long, long time which filled Rose with a sense of satisfaction.
When the sound ebbed away and Rose no longer felt the aftershocks against her tongue, she rose.
Lizanne was still breathing hard. Her eyes were closed, her face tilted up into the spray, and she looked extraordinary. Rose put her hands on her face and Lizanne opened her eyes.
“I love you,” Lizanne said.
Rose stood in the steam and thought about the fact that she was married to this woman. That they were together. A family. More than she had ever been with any intimate partner.
“I love you too,” Rose said.