"This is kind of embarrassing," she whispered, hiding her head against Ryan’s chest.
"Take your time, Babe. Just tell me what you feel comfortable sharing."
"Okay. He wanted to have sex once when I had my period and I didn't want to, but he finally talked me into it. He tried to take my tampon out and he couldn't…of course. I don’t know what is so complicated about taking out a tampon but he practically took my uterus with it. When I got it out he acted like it was radioactive or something. I honestly thought he was going to call in the HAZMAT team to scrub the place down. As soon as that tampon was out, his…well, let’s say that his desire deflated, and he suddenly had to go to sleep. I swear that ever since then he was weird about using his mouth on me." She added in a timid voice, "I just don’t ever want you to be grossed out by something and have it affect how you feel about me."
Ryan gave her a gentle squeeze. "I don't mean to brag, but I think I have more experience in this area than Jack had. I've made love to women at every stage of their cycles, and I swear I have never been grossed out. There's nothing mysterious about it, Jamie. It's just another part of you. How could I find a part of you distasteful?"
"But it smells funny," she maintained, just the hint of a whine in her voice.
"No, it does not," Ryan said patiently. "I don’t find the scent offensive in the least."
"I don't know, Ryan. I don't want to disappoint you but..."
"No, no, no, Honey," she said firmly. "This isn't about disappointing me. I want to help you get over this, but not for me. I think overcoming these little phobias is good for your self-image. But if you don't want to, please tell me and I'll drop it."
"I guess I'm more worried about your reaction than my own. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes," she replied solemnly as she gazed steadily into her partner’s eyes. "I'm sure."
"Okay," she finally said. "I'll try."
"Would you feel more comfortable if I could guarantee that I couldn't taste or smell you?"
"Er...how on earth could you do that?"
"Trust me, I'm a doctor," she teased. "Plus I can guarantee that we won't make a mess…at all."
"That's a pretty good guarantee, Doc. Are you sure you can deliver?"
"I haven't lost a patient yet," she said with a wiggling eyebrow. "You go change your tampon; I'll be right back." Ryan gave Jamie a final kiss and dashed into her bedroom.
When she returned, Jamie was lying in bed, looking more like a woman waiting for the oral surgeon than her lover. "Ready if you are," she said gamely.
Ryan gave her an encouraging smile and held up her hand. She waved a good-sized sheet of latex at her partner, waggling her dark eyebrows as she did so. "I’m already salivating," she smirked, harking back to the declaration she had made on their honeymoon that dental dams made her hot.
"Why do I ever doubt you?" Jamie mused with a giggle as her partner climbed into bed.
"Search me." Ryan shrugged her broad shoulders and snuggled in close. "Now, did someone around here call a doctor?"
Some time later, Ryan heard a low groan come from Jamie's open mouth and leaned down, placing her ear close. "I told you I couldn't relax enough to enjoy that," Jamie said with a weak smile.
A gentle laugh caused Jamie’s head to bounce a bit, given its position atop Ryan’s chest. "I assume the moans were signs of your reluctance?"
"Yes," she drawled, enjoying the tease. "I was moaning from tension."
"How about the little gasps and groans?"
"Same thing," she murmured, playfully scratching Ryan’s exposed tummy. "Tension…tension."
"Hmm, that may fly, but let’s see you explain away the hands laced through my hair, the thighs locked around my neck and the commands that I touch you ‘harder’ and ‘faster’?" Ryan’s hand had been idly resting upon Jamie’s waist, but as she asked her question she got in a lightening-quick tickle of her sensitive ribs.
"Yow!" Jamie cried, curling up in a ball to prevent further attacks. "No fair! I was in a very vulnerable position!"
"Speak the truth," Ryan intoned, "or face my torture!" Her wiggling digits underscored her threat, and Jamie knew a loser bet when she saw one.
"Oh, all right," she huffed dramatically. "Once again you’ve proven your mettle between the sheets, Tiger. One more phobia down the drain."
"That’s my goal," Ryan crowed. "I’m really an operative from the American Psychological Association. We’re going to stamp out sexual phobias—one woman at a time."
Cuddling up contentedly against her talented lover Jamie murmured, "I’m just glad I’m near the front of the alphabet."
"
Señorita
Jamie?"
"Yikes!!!!" Jamie flew out of bed, scampering across the floor to close the bedroom door. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Ryan throwing her clothes on faster than she would have thought humanly possible. "It’s okay, Sweetheart," she soothed, smiling a bit at the wild look on her partner’s face. "I’ll go ask Maria Los to start on the first floor." She slipped on a robe and gave Ryan a wink as she left the room.
Jamie returned a few minutes later, puzzled to find that Ryan was still sitting on the bed, her singlet haphazardly pulled over her head. "I don’t like having strangers in the house, Jamie." Her tone was slightly regretful, but there was a steely determination in her eye that Jamie was not used to having directed at her.
The smaller woman let out a heavy sigh and came to sit next to her partner. "What do you want to do about that?" Jamie’s expression was neutral, her posture open. Ryan had expected her to be defensive, and this attitude caught her by surprise.
"Umm…I don’t know," she said somewhat hesitantly. "I uh…I guess I’d like to fire her."
"Okay." Jamie stood and tightened the closure of her robe. "I’ll go tell her now." She took a step towards the door but was stopped by Ryan’s hand grabbing her wrist firmly.
"You’d just fire her?" She was staring at Jamie with an absolutely stunned expression on her face. "With no notice, or anything?"
"Well, no," she admitted. "I’ll continue to pay her until I find her another job. It’s not her fault that you don’t want her in the house."
"Aww, jeez, Jamie, you’re making me feel like a jerk." Ryan had fallen into full-on pout mode. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her chin was nearly touching her folded arms.
The smaller woman came back to join her partner on the bed. "I certainly don’t mean to, Honey," she soothed. "But if you’re adamant that you don’t want her here, I don’t see how a compromise is viable."
"Well…why do
I
get the final vote?" Blue eyes peeked out from too-long bangs, and Jamie had a perfect image of Ryan as a five-year-old.
"For the same reason that you told me I would have the final decision on what we do sexually," she said softly as she rubbed her hand across Ryan’s bare thigh. "If something bothers you, or makes you uncomfortable, your vote wins."
Her mouth quirked involuntarily into a sardonic smirk. "I hate it when you use my own logic on me." Jamie ruffled her bangs, but said nothing, waiting for Ryan to decide what to do. "Will her feelings be hurt?" It was clear that Ryan was having a tough time with this, but Jamie honestly did not know how to reach a compromise.
She pondered this for just a second, knowing the answer immediately. "Yes, Honey. Her feelings will be hurt. She’s very proud of the work she does here, and I think she’ll assume that she offended you on Monday."
"Damn!" Ryan got up and paced in a small circle. "I don’t want to hurt her feelings, Jamie. I just don’t want someone coming and going without warning."
"Well, we have warning," she offered. "She comes at ten on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and she leaves at three."
Ryan nodded, and crossed her arms against her chest. She was silent for a moment before she offered a compromise. "Since Mia’s not here, I don’t expect the house to be very dirty. I want to do the laundry, so that will save her a lot of time. Until school starts let’s have her come from noon to three. We’ll pay her the same amount, of course—tell her it’s like a little vacation."
"And that would work better because…?"
"Because that’s when I’ll be at work. This will be easier for me to adjust to if I don’t have to be at home when she’s here. Plus, I want to spend most mornings making love to my best girl, and I hate to have my concentration ruined." The sparkle was back in the azure eyes, and Jamie shot her a grateful grin for her willingness to give a bit on the issue.
"I’ll go talk to her now." Jamie started towards the door, anxious to get the issue settled. Once again she was pulled back by Ryan’s grip.
"Nah. She’s here now," Ryan reasoned. "Tell her this starts on Monday. That way she won’t think anything’s wrong."
"You’re a very sweet woman." Jamie slid her arms around her partner and gave her a generous hug.
"I have my moments," Ryan admitted with a grin. "But don’t let it get out."
"Your secret is safe with me." Jamie placed a few kisses on her smiling face before leading her into the bath for their second shower of the morning.
Jamie flew in the front door at 5:20, struggling with two large grocery bags. Ryan jogged over to relieve her of her burden, and she gratefully relinquished both bags, ogling her partner as she did so. Ryan was wearing a red baseball cap which was backwards, as usual. Her hair was clipped loosely and stuck out beneath the bill of the cap. Only faded overall shorts covered her long frame. "Nice outfit," Jamie commented as Ryan turned to take the bags into the kitchen.
"Thank you," she responded over her shoulder. "It was as close as I could get to your request of this morning."
Jamie thought about that for a second and then laughed as she followed her lover into the kitchen. She recalled mentioning that she wished she could keep her partner naked at all times. Slipping up behind her visual delight as she put two six-packs of beer in the refrigerator, Jamie slid her hands in the unbuttoned sides of the jeans and tantalizingly stroked the nearly naked body for several minutes. Ryan's eyes fluttered closed, and her head fell back against Jamie's shoulder as she luxuriated in the feel of her lover's hands. "I love the look, Tiger, but you didn’t quite follow orders."
"It's cold today!" Ryan protested. "I was naked until the fog rolled in and my nipples got so hard they could have snapped off!"
"Oh, you poor thing." Jamie’s voice dropped to its lowest register as she moved around to the front of her body and locked eyes with Ryan. She slowly unhooked a shoulder strap, smiling seductively as one pink nipple was revealed when the oversized garment sagged down Ryan’s body. A fervid stare caused it to pop up immediately, and Jamie bent over to pull it into her warm mouth. Ryan’s hands immediately rose to rest on her partner’s head and a soft moan fell from her lips. After a few minutes of attention, Jamie pulled back to inspect the object of her affection. "It doesn't seem to have gotten any softer," she said with a questioning glance. Her index finger flicked over the pebbled flesh, creating goose bumps all over the taller woman’s torso. "Is it still cold?"
"Uh-uh," Ryan said slowly, her own voice taking on a seductive tone. "It's warm, and getting warmer all the time. The other one's still cold though."
"We can't let the other one feel left out," Jamie purred as she unhooked the second strap. The overalls dropped to the floor as her mouth warmed the other hard nipple. After a few minutes of this loving care, she straightened and looked up at her lover, a playful grin flitting across her features. "Are any of your other parts cold?"
Ryan slowly shook her head. "All of my parts feel very warm right now. Actually, some of them have grown decidedly hot in the last few minutes."
"Is there much we have to do before your family gets here?"
"Huh-uh," she said as she shook her head again. "I've made a salad, I've shucked the corn, and I just started the fire. We've got a good 30 minutes to kill."
"Hmmm, I wonder what we should do....30 minutes....Maybe we should lie down for a little nap. Would you like a 30-minute nap, Love?" Her hand had traveled to Ryan’s bare ass, and she lightly patted the smooth surface with her open palm.
"I think I could do with a five-minute nap," Ryan growled as she bent down to bestow a series of torrid kisses upon her lover.
30 minutes proved to be more than enough time for Ryan’s favorite kind of nap. Jamie ignored her invitation to make it speedy, and she teased the poor woman until she was nearly mad with arousal. When she finally allowed her release, Ryan actually needed a more conventional nap, but she struggled to stay awake and luxuriate in the delicious sensation of being held in Jamie’s tender embrace. At six o'clock sharp they hopped in the shower, and by quarter past they were both dressed and in the kitchen tending to dinner.
The family wasn't due until seven, but since they were never late, there was a good chance they would be early. Martin always liked to allow for a few major accidents and a natural disaster or two when he planned his departure time; true to form, he rang the doorbell at 6:30 on the dot. Ryan looked at Jamie and gave her a little shrug along with an adorable grin, having warned her partner that the proposed time was the outermost limit of when the family would arrive. They went to the door hand-in-hand to welcome the clan to their house.
Brendan and Martin stood on the deep porch wearing smiles and bearing a bottle of wine. They were pulled inside and welcomed with a surfeit of hugs, Ryan providing more than her share. Just when they were about to go into the kitchen, Conor arrived and was treated to the same welcome.
"Isn't this just grand," Martin said as he looked around the living room. "How many of you are there living here, girls?"
"Just us this summer, Da. One of Jamie's roommates is in L.A. right now, but she'll be back this fall."
"My, but this is a large home for three girls," he commented as he continued to look around. "I don't mean to pry, but however will you afford it, Siobhán?"
"Jamie's father owns the house, Da," she said by way of avoiding the direct question.
"Oh, I see," he said, although he obviously didn't. "Well, but you'll be paying your share of the rent then, won't you?"
"Let's talk about this during dinner." Ryan dodged an answer once again as she led them on a quick tour. Connor was particularly effusive about the redwood covering the floors and the exposed beams in the craftsman-style home. He pointed out a number of elements that Ryan had never noticed, making her a little uncomfortable when he went on and on about the quality of the workmanship. It was becoming obvious, even to Martin, that this was not a rental home that a trio of typical Cal students could afford, and she noticed that her father grew more pensive as they continued the tour. When they were done making appreciative comments, they all went out into the small, enclosed yard and watched while Ryan got the grill ready.
Martin went back into the house to offer his help to Jamie. "Would you be needing any assistance?" he asked, blue eyes sparkling.
"No, Martin. Everything's set. Your daughter is quite proficient in the kitchen, I've come to find out, and she got everything ready while I was playing golf this afternoon. But you could set the kitchen table with the things I laid out."
As he walked by her he asked in a low tone, "How is she faring?"
Jamie turned and smiled up at him. "She's doing great. I think the hardest part was leaving on Monday. Since then she's been fine. I've been keeping a close eye on her, though. We actually went running together today—Of course, I had to ride my bike to keep up with her."
Martin laughed at the accuracy of that statement. "She’s as quick as they come," he admitted, smiling fondly as he spoke of his daughter.
Jamie caught the hint of sadness in his deep blue eyes and grasped his arm lightly. "How are you doing, Martin? This is really hard for you, isn’t it?"
He turned his back, appearing to study the detail work on the redwood cabinets. "The child is 23 years old, Jamie. I have to let go of her some time."
The sad tone of his voice indicated just how much he hated that prospect, and Jamie flashed on the difficulty Ryan would have letting their own children leave the nest. Jamie came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist for a hug. He patted her linked arms, grateful that she couldn’t see the tears in his eyes.
Ryan came bounding up the stairs announcing, "The fire is ready. Let's rock." When she entered the room, Jamie was just pulling away, and she immediately guessed that her father was having a tougher time than she was with this adjustment to their living situation. "I knew it!" she cried, trying to lighten the moment. "I knew you were using me to get to the prize of the O’Flaherty family!"
Jamie laughed at her efforts, protesting her accusation. "If I had remained on the straight and narrow, Martin would have to fight me off," she agreed, "but I’m pretty happy with the distaff side of the O’Flaherty clan."
With a heavy sigh, Martin turned and joined in the teasing. "Jamie’s already claimed the prize of the family, Siobhán, and though I have not met the Evans family, I predict you’ve done the same."
"Well, the latter part of that statement is true for sure, Da." She wrapped her partner in a hug from behind and gave her a flurry of kisses, tickling her neck and ears thoroughly. "Hey, why didn’t you bring Duffy? He usually handles this for me."
"I didn’t want to confuse him, Darlin’. I think it would be hard for him to see you, but not have you go home with us."
"That makes sense," she agreed, wishing once again that Cal was in San Francisco.
"Let’s get dinner started," Jamie suggested as she handed Ryan a big platter of chicken and a bowl of barbeque sauce. "Would the boys like a drink?"
"Hey, fellas," Ryan called down the stairs, "would you like a beer?" Receiving two enthusiastic affirmatives, she turned back to Jamie and indicated the tray. "The boys are thirsty, Love. Put three on here, will you?"
"I’ll carry the drinks," Martin insisted, always the cautious parent. Ryan was greatly aided by all three men giving her advice on the proper way to grill chicken, and she accepted and ignored the advice with good humor. Jamie had come down to join them, and they all stood by the grill, soaking up the last rays of the weak sun while the hot fire warmed them.
When the chicken was ready they sat down to dinner, where everyone made appropriately glowing comments on Ryan's abilities as a grill cook. They tried to compliment Jamie, but she had to admit that she hadn't done a thing. "She really is a fabulous cook, though," Ryan said with pride.
"I'll second that," Conor said. "That meal you made down at Pebble Beach was killer!"
"You were starving, Conor," she reminded him with a chuckle. "It was just an Italian omelet."
"Whatever it was, it was killer," he insisted, unwilling to back down from his praise.
"So tell us how you’ve been spending your days, girls?" Martin asked.
"Yeah, Ryan." Conor’s mischievous blue eyes twinkled, and it was clear that he was about to put his sister on the spot. "Tell us how you’ve been spending your time."
"Don’t you go prying into your sister’s business," Martin warned.
"I just asked the same question you did, Da." The handsome face was the epitome of innocence as he gazed at his father.
"It’s not the question, lad, it’s the inference." He narrowed his gaze and reminded his son, "The girls are still on their honeymoon, and they don’t need to be cross-examined about their sex life."
"Sex? Who said anything about sex? Jeez, Da, that was the furthest thing from my mind."
Jamie was ready to crawl under the table, and Martin backhanded his son across the shoulder. "You’ve embarrassed Jamie again, boy. Now behave yourself, or they won’t be invitin’ us again."
"It’s okay, Martin," the still-blushing woman assured him. "I’m getting used to being teased almost around the clock. Your daughter is the worst one of the bunch."
"Hey! I…" Ryan started, but then decided that she may as well be honest. "You’re right." She beamed a smile at her partner and added, "But you love me anyway."
"This is true." Jamie gave her hand a squeeze and directed the conversation back to the original question. "Ryan gave me quite a little surprise yesterday morning," she informed the men, sparing a grin towards her lover.
"How so?" Martin asked, turning to his daughter.
"Well, I wasn’t going to say anything until I’d made up my mind, but I had a tryout for the soccer team."
"Soccer team?" Martin’s features grew dark, and his voice took on a low, rough tone. "With the phantom Coach Greene?"
Oh-oh…I guess absence did not make the heart grow fonder
. "Come on, Da," Ryan urged. "I hadn’t signed my letter of intent yet. We really weren’t bound to each other."
"Letter of intent?" Jamie asked, trying to keep track of the conversation.
"Yeah." Ryan cast a quick glance at her partner, then another at her father. Deciding to answer Jamie’s question, she informed her, "Once a high-school athlete signs a letter of intent, you’re bound to that school. If you decide not to attend, you can’t go to another school and participate in your sport. I hadn’t signed with Cal when they dropped me, so I was free to play somewhere else if I wanted to. The bottom line is that they didn’t actually harm me by dropping me as a prospect."
Martin looked like he was going to burst, so Ryan quickly turned back to him. "They did, in reality, hurt me a lot, Da. But it was my feelings and my self-confidence that they hurt. All I’m saying is that they didn’t take anything tangible away from me."
"I’d kick a soccer ball right up her butt," Brendan growled, his dark face mirroring his father’s.
"Hear, hear!" Martin agreed, shocking everyone at the table with his approbation of Brendan’s uncharacteristically salty language.
"Hold on, guys," Ryan urged, trying to get the conversation under control. "I love soccer, and I’ve missed it…a lot. I know I could play in a rec league, but the competition is really good in the Pac-10, and that’s what I love. It’s only hurting myself to let my anger keep me from doing this."
The assembled men let her words sink in for a minute, finally agreeing that she had a good point. "Are you sure you can trust her, Darlin’?" Martin still wasn’t sold on the idea, but he wanted his daughter to feel free to do whatever gave her pleasure in life.