Nether Regions (27 page)

Sophie.

Delora smiled when she thought of her new companion. Sophie had become the love of her life. She knew that now too.

She dried slowly, pressing the hotel towel with patient care against all exposed expanses of skin. The towel felt good against her cheeks, and she thought of Sophie’s lips there the night on the bayou. She remembered the way Sophie’s hands felt against her back as she held her. The thoughts made old longings reappear and Delora sighed in frustration. What was she to do?

Rational thought reappeared. There was so much to do. She dressed slowly in loose cotton trousers and a short pink T-shirt as her mind listed possibilities.

First, she needed to decide where she was going to live. Her time with Rosalie was done, and she needed to move on.

She turned and looked at the jars of money. There had to be thousands of dollars inside, and she was glad about that. She needed to count it and take stock of her situation, but she didn’t feel like dealing with it just now.

She sighed and curled up in the room’s only armchair with the little notebook she carried in her backpack.

“Look for apartment or house,” she wrote. Then above that phrase, she wrote in bigger letters, “Get newspaper tomorrow morning.” That was better, one step at a time.

Under “look for apartment,” she wrote, “Call Sophie and tell her what happened.”

As far as income, she knew she’d keep all three jobs for a while, just until she had some money saved, a security blanket. So she wouldn’t have to worry. She needed a bank account, something she’d never bothered with before. Adding “Go to bank” to her list, she sighed. So much to do.

She looked around the neat, bare hotel room. It was a shame she couldn’t live here. She liked this room. It was controlled and felt safe.

She wondered what twists and turns Louie’s death was going to bring to her life. She was glad he was gone. What repercussions did a death bring? Her parents’ deaths had brought her a different life and a tattered pack of old photos and mementos from a more idyllic time.

The physical assets from Louie would be slim, and she felt as though she had gotten everything from Rosalie’s house that she wanted. What about legalities, though? She supposed she would have to make herself available to Bud Corman, her family’s lawyer. She had a bad case of the “I don’t wannas” about that. What she wanted was to disappear for a while until she had regained her bearings.

“Call Bud,” she wrote reluctantly.

She also knew she’d have to face Rosalie at some point. What was she going to tell her? Lies. Would Rosalie know she was lying? She had always been able to tell before. What did it matter anymore, really? Delora was no longer a teenager trying to get away with drinking with the older college kids. This was a little more serious, though, and because of that, even less of a problem. An event this big swept away all the foolishness that had gone before. Delora knew that Louie was gone; nothing could be done to change that. Her only duty now was to protect Hinchey as best she could so Louie wouldn’t destroy his life as he had hers. And this she would do, whether to Rosalie, an army of policemen or simply to herself. She knew that when she woke tomorrow morning the truth would be gone, hidden under the story she and Hinchey had crafted. They found Louie that way when they went to pick him up.

Maybe Hinchey would move away. Life for Delora would go on. Only this time it would be under her terms and her terms only. She felt fully free for the first time since her parents’ deaths.

She leaned her head back and studied the ceiling. What did she want for her life? She knew one thing—being with Sophie, working alongside her, felt like an answer to prayer. Would Sophie train her? She laughed, feeling stupid and coy. She didn’t want Sophie that way. Maybe Sophie would teach her more secrets of woman love, teach her about that ravishing ache she felt after an evening of Sophie’s kisses. Delora felt like Sophie’s kisses brought her to life. No man had ever moved her that way. She walked across virgin soil and for some odd reason, even though she was burned and was what many would call disfigured, she felt okay, even learning to welcome the changes her life was moving toward.

Afraid to hope too fiercely, Delora laid aside her list and rose from the chair. She moved to the bed and folded down the thick coverlet. She slid from her clothing and crawled into the coolness of the sheets. She debated watching television, half-afraid she’d see Louie’s death on the local broadcast. Instead, she switched off the light and lay in darkness. Light from a streetlight peeked from around the window curtain. Delora watched the penetrating glow, wishing the window would open so she could hear the sounds from the night outside. She would find that soothing. A sudden shadow passed by her window, a figure moving outside on the balcony, momentarily blocking the light from the window. It passed on and hesitantly returned. A knock sounded.

Chapter Forty-Five

Delora rose as if on greased wheels. She shrugged into her robe.

Sophie’s body was dark against the streetlamp’s glow.

“Delora, are you okay?” she asked. “I heard what happened.”

Delora moved back, effectively inviting Sophie inside.

“You are okay, aren’t you?” she persisted as she pressed the door closed.

“I’m okay,” Delora agreed softly. She studied Sophie in the dimness a long time, as if examining her for possibilities. How did she always manage to find her?

Sophie’s eyes found Delora’s, and the younger woman felt herself moving forward into a new expanding dimension. Little else mattered except keeping Sophie’s gaze on her in the dimness.

“Sophie, I…”

Sophie waited expectantly. “What? Tell me.”

“You know I’m burned.”

“Yes. Technically, you were burned, now you’re healed.”

Delora had to smile. “True, but the scars…they’re pretty bad.”

Sophie nodded. “I know. I’ve seen worse, honey.”

“I know…but…really?”

Sophie nodded again. “Ummhmm.”

Delora’s consciousness shifted just a little. “Hmm. Well, I just want you to know things between us are…I understand if you don’t want to…you know.”

Sophie smiled, her eyes going all hard and dark. “Oh, I want to. No doubt about that.”

A thrill sped along Delora’s nerves, leaving her breath ragged and her body aroused. Goose bumps circled along her breasts, bringing her nipples to delicious erection. Her shy eyes lifted to Sophie and the look there made that strange plummeting sensation begin in her stomach and groin again.

“Oh,” Delora said.

“What?” Sophie replied. “Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Delora’s voice was low and breathy.

Sophie leaned in and took Delora’s hands in hers. “I knew as soon as I met you that we were a special pair and meant to be together,” she explained. “Love began to grow—that minute. Everything about you that I’ve seen since has just reinforced that love. I’m not one to play games, really. Never have been. What you see in me is what you get and I’m telling you now straight out. I love you and I hope one day, a hope helped by what I see in your eyes, that you will grow to love me as much. It’s not such an outlandish hope, although I know this isn’t the best time to point out that you’re a free woman.”

Delora said. “It’s okay. There wasn’t anything there anyway.”

“I understand if you’re holding out for another man, but I hope it’s not because you feel like you can’t love a woman?”

Mulling this over, Delora fiddled with the collar of her robe. Her feelings were so confused; she didn’t know what to think. The voices of her physicians echoed in her mind. She wanted to be sure that she didn’t fall into a relationship with a woman just because she couldn’t have a relationship with a man.

“Sophie, I don’t know,” she said finally. “You don’t understand. The doctors at the burn unit told me I’d never be able to have sex again. They managed to rebuild my vagina, but the skin inside there is really thin. They said it can’t be penetrated with any force so I figured it was all over. That was a little more than two years ago and I haven’t thought seriously about sex since. It was a nonissue. Then I meet you and I start having all these feelings.”

She lowered her head. “You make me feel all squirmy inside and I start wanting you. I’ve never been with a woman, though, and don’t know what to expect. I feel…I care about you, I do. I’m just not sure I can love you physically. I’m not sure it would work,” she finished sorrowfully.

Sophie was silent a long time. So long that Delora considered opening the door to usher her out.

“Delora, women can love one another in a lot of different ways. My body craves closeness with yours and it sounds like you crave me too. Maybe the physical will work out, maybe it won’t, but I don’t think you and I should agonize over it. Most of the time things have a way of working out on their own without a whole lot of intervention from us. Even though we like to think we’re in control of our lives.” She paused. “You can say no to me and send me on my way. Or you can open your arms to me. Life will go on if you say no, but think what we may miss if you send me away.”

She leaned closer. “I feel what we have. I feel it big. I don’t want to go away. I want to see what will happen, what adventures we can have together.”

Delora was tired of warnings, tired of thinking. She moved toward Sophie. Sophie moved to meet her. The kiss lasted an eternity; lips parted and met time and again, each instance of meeting deepening and lasting longer. Their tongues met and mated, then came back for more.

Delora abandoned herself to the rapture that kissing Sophie engendered in her and felt the desire growing in her body. She began to feel a sense of languor move across her. Limbs became heavy and the mind sluggish. She transformed into a creature of pure sensation. Her pelvis swelled anew and the craving for release led her to press herself against Sophie. Sophie’s hand moved low, cupped her sex, and moved it with subtle pressures. Delora forgot her scars and responded with pushes of her own. The attention there felt so good, so necessary. Abruptly it stopped as Sophie moved away. Delora had a moment of panic. Suppose Sophie didn’t want her after all? Sophie’s eyes told a different tale as she reached to slowly untie Delora’s robe, allowing it to slip with sensuous weight along her back and to the floor.

Delora stood naked and in shadow, and Sophie paused to study her slimness. Delora had the body of a boy except for the small bulge of breast. The nipples were high with a heavy swell of breast underneath. Cuppable breasts. Sophie moved close to hold one in each palm.

Sophie unbuttoned her own shirt and slipped it from her shoulders. She unfastened her jeans and let them drop. Clad only in an undershirt and panties, she led Delora into the bathroom.

“I need to shower. And it’ll be easier for you there.” Allowing the bathroom to stay dark, save for a nearby streetlight shining through the frosted window, Sophie turned the knobs of the shower until the spray hovered two notches up from warm. She shed the rest of her clothing and stepped inside, pulling silent, obedient Delora in after her. The water cocooned them in warmth as Sophie held her close, hands caressing her back and neck. Delora felt loved absolutely in this hot, womb-like environment, and when Sophie’s lips found hers again, she sought them eagerly until both were swooning from sensation.

“Wait,” Sophie said hoarsely as she stepped from the spray. “Let’s take our time.”

Using the soap, Sophie lathered herself, then reached for Delora. Sliding the bar of soap across skin, she followed the path of the soap with her hand, further lathering Delora’s skin until slick foam covered them both.

The sensation was new to Delora, and she reveled in it. Sophie’s hands were hot and sensual, so soft, gliding across her skin. The warmth penetrated through and a new throbbing sensation awoke in her. It felt like her breathing had been constricted since the fire and now she could, finally, take a full, deep breath.

The hand moved lower, and Sophie’s hand was between her legs, sleek movement across the engorged nub of nerve buried under the scar tissue. Sensation assaulted Delora and she began to move her hips against Sophie’s firm pressure. A feeling grew in her and she knew if she continued her world would explode into stardust again.

Sophie moved her hand away and Delora cried out in an automatic wail of loss.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here.” She pressed the soap into Delora’s hand. “Now me. Do me.”

Delora rubbed the soap between her hands, then laid the soap and her soapy hand on Sophie’s shoulder, rubbing the sleekness along her arm. Emboldened by Sophie’s shadowed gaze, she moved her hands to Sophie’s small breasts and felt entranced by the firm weight of them. The skin was so soft there and the tawny peaks so hard, such a dichotomy of sensation under her palms. Sophie’s eyes closed and her breathing came heavy and fast.

Was Delora’s touch arousing Sophie as she had aroused Delora? Growing in confidence, Delora slid her hand lower to Sophie’s slim waist, moving around to soap her back. The heat of their bodies connecting was delicious. Delora’s right hand, with the soap, moved lower to lather the heavy mat of hair at the apex of Sophie’s legs. Her fingers reveled in the marvelous feel of short, soapy hair. She moved lower, slipping easily between Sophie’s legs. Sophie moaned and Delora started with surprise. She was in complete control of Sophie’s pleasure and this realization filled Delora with power. She welcomed it and slipped the soap through Sophie’s thighs, catching it in her left hand on the other side. Her right hand remained, however, and her fingers fell into Sophie’s dark softness. Delora’s exploratory hand moved deep into Sophie’s body. She fell back against the shower wall, pushing her lower body hard onto Delora’s hands.

“
So this is it
,” thought Delora as she moved her hand in the way she imagined she would like to be touched. Sophie’s moans and gasps grew stronger as she rocked against Delora’s palm and fingers.

“Press there,” she said, pulling the heel of Delora’s palm hard against the swell of her sex. Delora’s other arm pulled Sophie’s body tight against her, the left hand soaping deep into the split of Sophie’s backside. She felt as though she held the entire essence of the older woman between her two forearms.