Sleeping with the Frenemy (12 page)

“Oh, Deborah.” Bridgette rested her hand on top of Debora's folded ones. “How did you hook up with this horrible woman, and why did you stay with her after so many years of abuse?”

Deborah snorted. “I started working for Gen—that's my wife—by taking care of her terminally ill mother. I'd just finished nursing school. I was hired as a personal nurse through an agency.” Deborah smiled softly in memory of the first time she met Genevieve. “Gen was this older, classy, and stunning woman and I was awed by her. She reminded me of those actresses from old-time Hollywood movies. There I was, some young kid with barely any experience working for a very rich family. It should have come as no surprise when Gen became interested in me personally, I fell for her. Three months after I started working for her, we had an affair. I fell in love with her soon after.”

“Sounds like a fairytale come to life,” Bridgette said sarcastically and Deborah laughed.

“More like a deranged fairy tale toward the end.” Deborah swallowed and continued. “We kept things quiet since I was her mother's caregiver. Then six months later, her mother passed away. Afterward, Gen asked me to marry her. I thought I had found the love of my life. The first couple months of my marriage were wonderful, but then it started to go downhill. Gen cut me off from my old friends, saying they were using me to get to her. She became suspicious whenever I went out and didn't tell her. Then she started accusing me of cheating on her with other women.” Deborah swallowed nervously. “That's when it got really bad. The fights between us, or rather the ‘arguments,’ as Gen preferred to call them, became heated to the point where Gen would hit and scratch me.”

“Oh Deborah…” Bridgette rested her palm on her face. Deborah rubbed her cheek against it.

“I-I've seen married couples get physical before,” Deborah said. “My parents had an unstable relationship. My father had a temper and took it out on my mother. When I was ten, they got a divorce, and a few years later he died. I don't have fond memories of him,” she admitted, her voice shaking.

“They say the cycle can continue with children who come from an abusive home,” Bridgette said softly.

Deborah placed her hand over Bridgette's and gave her a sad smile. “I'm a perfect example of that, it seems.”

“What made you finally leave?”

“This isn't the first time I left Gen. A little more than two years into our marriage, I'd had enough. We had a big blowup that ended with me getting a sprained wrist and a fat lip. While Gen was away on a business trip, I left and moved in with my mother. Around that time may mother started to grow ill. I thought I could take care of her and get a nursing job again. Silly me didn't think of the lengths Gen would go to get me back. I couldn't get a job at any of the local hospitals or doctor's offices. Plus, wherever I was, Gen would be. She pleaded, begging me to come back. I almost folded a few times. But then my mother became very sick and was admitted into the hospital. She needed to be someplace where she could be monitored closely. My mother's savings weren't enough, and I didn't have any money either. I had no other options and when Gen offered to pay my mother's bills and for her care, I went back to her. Things were fine for a while, but then it started up again. I couldn't leave this time. She started threatening my—my mother.” Deborah hugged herself as she walked over to the tree and rested the side of her face against it.

When Bridgette came up from behind and wrapped her arms around her, resting her cheek against her back, Deborah released a shaky sigh.

“The second time I left, which was a few weeks ago, Gen had accused me of having an affair with the pool girl. She was so angry,” Deborah whispered and sniffed as tears fell down her cheeks. “We had just celebrated our four-year wedding anniversary the night before. As I lay on the floor, bruised and crying, it finally hit me I couldn't live like that any longer. My mother doesn't have much longer to live. So, after a year of saving money and selling jewelry and secretly planning in case I had to leave, along with the help of Gen's servants, whom I trusted, I pretended to kill myself and traveled hundreds of miles across the country. Now here I am, ready to hop on another train and disappear again.”

“Please don't leave me.” Bridgette sounded miserable.

Deborah turned around, wiping her tears. Bridgette was crying as well. Deborah smiled and thumbed away Bridgette's tears falling down her cheeks.

“I have to. I don't trust myself. I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, afraid Gen will be there. If she finds out I'm alive, she'll want me dead.”

“She'll have to get through me first,” Bridgette announced and wrapped her arms around Deborah's neck and kissed her. Startled, Deborah landed back against the rough bark of the tree as she held Bridgette, wanting to stay like this forever and never let her go.

When Bridgette stopped the kiss, she cupped Deborah's face, her eyes bright. “You're no longer alone. You have me now. My family can protect you.” A frown marred Bridgette's face. “Unless you think I'm like your wife—”

“No!” Deborah said loudly and squeezed Bridgette's shoulders. “You're the complete opposite of my wife. From the moment I met her, she was too dominant and needy. At first I found that exciting about her. Gen claimed me as one of her possessions, and look where it got me. With you it's the complete opposite. We're equals.”

“Equals. I like the sound of that.” Bridgette nodded, looking pleased. When she lifted her face up toward her, Deborah gave her another kiss.

Deborah wanted to continue kissing under the big elm tree with the branches and leaves that covered them from prying eyes. She longed to forget everything and just be with Bridgette, regardless of the danger.
If Gen ever found out she was with someone else—

“You're thinking too hard,” Bridgette said against her mouth. She moved her face down and against Deborah's throat.

Running her fingers through Bridgette's curls, she curved an arm around her waist. “I can't help it. I'll never be able to rest my mind, knowing Gen is out there, suspecting I may have deceived her.”

“Instead of running away to places unknown, where you'll have to start over again and constantly look over your shoulder, why don't you wait a few days more? I can talk with Bryan and my father for advice on your situation without telling them who you are. If they're aware a dangerous person maybe heading here to do one of our own harm, they'll take care of it.”

“One of their own?” Deborah asked uncertain.

Bridgette's lips tilted up and she took both of Deborah's hands in hers. “Yes, you're one of us, part of the community. I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe,” Bridgette added, her voice growing hard.

Deborah wished she had half of Bridgette's strength and the belief that everything would turn out all right. She didn't, but kept that to herself. Instead, she'd do what Bridgette requested and enjoy the time they had together.

If only she could get over the feeling she was being watched.

Bridgette swiped a finger down Deborah's nose, where it was damp with sweat. “You know what? I think we should get out of this heat. You must be frying and I'm ready to wilt. How about we go back to my house where I can make you lunch and we can talk about our next move?”

“Our next move?” Deborah asked and wiped her face. She grimaced as her hands came away wet. “I must smell rank. Maybe a shower first, then food?”

Bridgette hopped lightly on her feet, her curls bobbing. Deborah would never get tired of seeing them. She reached out to wrap a curl around her finger. Bridgette kissed her softly on her chin, and as Deborah went to give her a kiss on her mouth, she moved back.

“Shower first, Miss Sweaty. Food, planning, then more kissing.” Bridgette's eyes twinkled.

Deborah finally relaxed her shoulders; they'd been knotted for days. “Let's go home,” she said, and when they grabbed her bags and walked in the direction toward their street, she couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes watching her—even though she didn't notice anyone lurking around. She did her best to shrug away that feeling until they both were close enough to hear a familiar dog barking and to see the house that gave her a sense of belonging.

Deborah took a shower while Bridgette went back over to her house to check on Rotquel. After washing the grime and sweat away, she combed her hair and put on a different pair of underwear, khaki shorts, bra, and a loose-fitting pink tank top. She walked downstairs when she heard a knock on the front door and after looking through the peephole, she opened it. Bridgette stood on her porch holding two brown paper bags.

“I was just going to come over,” Deborah replied and almost fumbled the bags as Bridgette passed them over to her.

“I thought we could eat here instead.” Bridgette walked in, gave Deborah a quick kiss on the mouth, and tugged on the hem of her shirt. “Pink really looks good on you.”

Swallowing a laugh, Deborah closed her front door. “I'd always like the color pink, but my wife hated it…sorry, you must be sick of hearing me talk about her.”

Bridgette patted Deborah's cheek. “Unless you don't want to talk about her, I don't care. Remember, I'm here for you, to listen to what you have to say.”

Deborah walked into the kitchen and put the bags on the table. She was still somewhat unnerved by the way Bridgette acted so calm about everything she'd told her. “You're too good to be true. Another woman would run far away from all the baggage I have.”

“By now you should know I'm not like other women, Deb. Is it all right if I call you that?” Bridgette asked as she pulled out the various food items they'd have for lunch.

“I don't mind.” Deborah responded, and as she walked past Bridgette to go over the refrigerator, she stopped and gave Bridgette's cheek a soft caress with her knuckles. “And I do see you're not like other women, at least the ones I know. Thanks…for being my friend.”

“You'd better think of me as a friend.” Bridgette said and began setting the table.

Deborah almost kissed her, but opened the refrigerator instead, closing her eyes and allowing the cool, crisp air to rush over her face. When she glanced down at her chest, she softly cursed upon seeing her nipples where hard. It wasn't from the refrigerator but something else—most likely the look of desire in Bridgette's eyes. Deborah had noticed it the moment she walked in the house: a look she couldn't get enough of and wanted to see as she lay on top of her, naked and spent from their lovemaking.

* * * *

They ate and talked about her situation. When their sandwiches and chips were devoured, their conversation led to simpler things, such as when Deborah would begin painting the rooms in her house.

“I was going to start my painting project, but then I decided to leave town.” Deborah pushed back the bangs that had fallen over her forehead. “I want to do the kitchen, then the bathroom. I'm also thinking my bedroom, but I'm not sure now if the color will work.”

Bridgette tapped her fingers on top of the table. Deborah found this habit—her quirk—cute. She almost grabbed hold of Bridgette's hand, but held back. She was so confused about what she felt for Bridgette. The one thing they still needed to discuss was the night she'd accused Bridgette of rape. At one point they'd have to talk about it, to clear the air.

“Would you like a second opinion? I can check out your bedroom and tell you if the paint is the right color,” Bridgette offered as she stood.

“Sure. I'd appreciate your opinion.” Deborah led the way.

As they reached the landing, a loud sound of thunder erupted around them. Deborah flinched and glanced back at Bridgette. “I hate these sudden summer storms.”

“I don't mind them. I think they're sexy.” Bridgette replied and rubbed Deborah's arm as they went into her bedroom.

“You're sure you don't want to check on Rotquel? Don't dogs get upset by thunder and lightning?” Deborah walked over to the open window and watched the trees and power lines sway from the blustery wind. A flash of lightning appeared overhead and the greenish-gray clouds in the sky churned. A few drops of rain came down, and when Bridgette stood next to her, it started to pour.

“Rotquel will be okay. She usually naps this time of day.” Bridgette bounced on her feet. “I love this…wildness.”

“A storm like this makes you want to be wild?” Deborah lightly joked and rested her cheek against the window pane as the rain soaked the ground. It slashed down sideways and hit her in the face, cooling her off even more.

Bridgette's arms came around her and she rested her chin against her upper arm. “Yes, it does. I always had a fantasy of making love outside in the rain.”

Me too
. Deborah turned her face down to Bridgette, who looked up at her. “What other naughty fantasies do you have, Ridge?” Deborah twisted one of her bouncy curls around her fingers.

“You and I making love in your bed over there, feeling your body on top of mine as I make you come,” Bridgette whispered and placed her lips over Deborah's.

The soft pull of Bridgette's mouth against hers made her nipples tighten even more and her inner thighs throb. How could she want Bridgette this way when she had so many issues to still work out?

She broke the kiss and moved away until she sat down on the bed. She looked down at her hands and shook her head in despair. “Bridgette, I-I'm broken inside. The night we were together and almost made love should prove to you no good can come of us being together. What if—”

“Shh.” Bridgette placed the pad of her finger over Deborah's mouth and knelt down in front of her.

“I can't help but want you, to be with you. And it looks like you want the same thing,” she said and moved in closer to cup Deborah's face.

Deborah twisted her head away. “You don't understand. I don't want you to think I'm using you as a rebound. My feelings for Gen are still here.” Deborah covered her heart. “I have so much to work through before I can jump head first into another relationship.”

Bridgette nodded and rested her palms up on Deborah's knees. Deborah placed her palms on top of hers and wiped her cheek against her shoulder were a tear had escaped her eye.

“I want to help you get over whatever you need to get through.”

“With sex?” Deborah joked and jumped when another boom of thunder went off.

“Why not?” Bridgette asked and moved her face in close until their noses brushed. “Kissing and touching can be the best medicine.”

“That's a line if I ever heard one.” Deborah lifted an eyebrow and leaned back on her elbows.

“Better than talking about paint and a woman who never deserved you to begin with.”

Deborah opened her mouth to argue when Bridgette pushed her down and straddled her. She went still as Bridgette licked her lips. Before her eyes, Bridgette pulled off her own tank top. She wore no bra since her top had a built-in one. Deborah's mouth started to water. Bridgette's nipples were large and full, a dark cherry shade that had her longing to lick and roll with her fingers.

“Oops, sorry.” Bridgette climbed off of her and lay on her side. Deborah moaned from her loss.

“Why'd you get off of me?” Deborah asked and turned, facing Bridgette, bringing her hands under her chin so she wouldn't grab hold of Bridgette's breasts.

“I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable since you told me you were always the bottom and never the top.” Bridgette lay on her back and lifted her arms over her head. “I'm offering myself to you, for you to do whatever you want to me.”

“This is your form of therapy?” Deborah asked, dumbstruck, and lifted up on her elbow.

“Yes.” Bridgette linked her fingers together and arched her back. “And if you want to tie me up, go ahead.”

“Um.” Deborah sat up and wiped her face with her palms. Her hands shook and her mouth was dry.

“Deb?” Bridgette asked, and when her hand touched Deborah's knee, Deborah released a groan and rolled over to cover Bridgette's body.

She ate away at Bridgette's lips, licking and nipping as Bridgette chuckled. Deborah lost herself in the kiss, rubbing her hips against Bridgette's, longing to feel their naked bodies against one another.

“I need you so badly,” Deborah said and moved her face down to lick Bridgette's throat.

“Take me, then. I'm yours,” Bridgette replied in a husky whisper and gasped as Deborah sucked down on her right nipple.

Deborah pinched and pulled on Bridgette's hard nips, her skin so soft and smooth. She unzipped Bridgette's shorts, sliding her hand over her mound, pleasantly surprised to not feel any underwear.

“You don't wear any panties or thongs?” Deborah asked as she moved her mouth around Bridgette's breast.

“No. Another quirk of mine.” Bridgette moaned, her hand landing on Deborah's head.

Deborah grabbed hold of Bridgette's hand. “Wrap your hands around the headboard and don't move them. If you do, I'll tie them to it.”

“Make me,” Bridgette said, and put not only one, but both hands in Deborah's hair.

“Okay, you asked for it.” Deborah climbed off the bed and walked over to the dresser, where she found a white scarf. When she turned back to Bridgette, her eyes went wide. Bridgette had totally disrobed. Her legs were spread wide, where Deborah could see her pink, distended pussy covered by a light patch of red hair.

“You wax?” Deborah asked in wonder as she began pulling off her own clothes.

“A few days ago,” Bridgette said with a bit of sass in her voice and put her hand in between her legs. Her fingers spread apart her pussy lips and her thumb moved over her clit that Deborah couldn't wait to feel against her tongue.

“Now you're going to get it,” Deborah warned and straddled Bridgette much like Bridgette did to her only a moment ago. Deborah took Bridgette's wrists and rested them against the headboard. Bridgette tugged playfully against Deborah's hold, shrieking and crying—pretend fighting, as if Deborah was going to force her to do something she didn't want to do.

“You're a big bully, Deborah!” Bridgette said in a high-pitched voice.

Deborah silenced her by giving her a hard kiss.

Both kissed with passion, and when Bridgette's arms went lax, Deborah rested them back against the headboard and tied her arms around each end. She broke the kiss to check her knots.

“Not too tight?” she asked, released a moan when Bridgette lifted her face and latched onto her breast with her mouth.

“I take it that's a yes?” Deborah asked huskily and pressed down into Bridgette's mouth. Her inner core clenched from the tugging Bridgette's teeth on her sensitive flesh. She rubbed her pussy against Bridgette's already wet one, the need inside her growing to a feverish pitch.

Bridgette finished her sucking and lay back, out of breath. “Move your twat over my face where I can eat you out.”

“Such shocking language from a schoolteacher,” Deborah said in mock disgust and grabbed hold of Bridgette's face and kissed her.

Their tongues rolled around until both were panting for air. Deborah rocked back and forth as Bridgette's knees lifted up and cradled her hips.

“Deborah, let me taste you.” Bridgette begged and pulled on her bonds. Deborah waited for Bridgette to break them, but they never did.

“All right, Miss Impatient.” Deborah circled her fingers around the edges of Bridgette's nipples. Her own grew even more pointed for what she had planned in the next few minutes.

Bridgette's body trembled under her as Deborah turned, her ass facing Bridgette, much like she was ready to do the reverse cowgirl position. She bent down so her face hovered over Bridgette's pussy. She wiggled her hips until her ass cheek touched Bridgette's chin.

“Are you fine with this?” Deborah asked, looking over her shoulder at Bridgette.

“Yes.” Bridgette's tongue flicked out across one of her cheeks, Deborah bit down on her lips hard. She squirmed, moving in closer and spread her legs. When Bridgette's mouth covered her pussy, she sobbed and mouthed Bridgette's wet mound, sucking deeply.

It had been way too long since she'd tasted a women's pussy, and her come dripped as she grew excited. She licked over Bridgette's moist, fleshy lips. Deborah's face was drenched, her nose filling with Bridgette's come. She sniffed in deeply, almost climaxing from the juices flowing down her throat. Bridgette lapped away at her core and she grinded her cunt against Deborah's mouth slowly. Grunts and sighs came from behind her as she located Bridgette's clit with her finger and swirled over the hard button.

“Dear Lord in heaven and all the angels above!” Bridgette screeched against Deborah's ass and exhaled loudly. Deborah shivered and she stopped eating out Bridgette to catch her breath.

Her entire body went stiff when something wet and soft slipped inside her ass crack. She bit down on her lip and jumped from the slippery erotic intrusion. It had to be Bridgette's tongue rimming her ass.

“Oh Bridgette,” Deborah sighed and pulled her lover's legs farther apart to make her come. She reached in between Bridgette's legs and scraped her short nails over the inside of her thighs, enjoying the goose bumps rising over her skin. A drizzle of Bridgette's juices coated her fingers and she dipped her head back down to lick the fluid away.

When Bridgette's entire body stiffened and she cried out loudly, Deborah closed her eyes and allowed her release to overtake her. She panted against Bridgette's waxed, somewhat bristly puss and fell to the side and off of Bridgette so as not to crush her.

A crack of lightning lit up the room as Deborah wheezed loudly. She rolled onto her back, her legs and feet near Bridgette's face as Bridgette's chest rose up and down from her harsh breathing. Her eyes were closed and her face was damp with her sweat.

“Bridgette?” Deborah asked in a hush whisper and knelt beside her. She untied her arms and rubbed her muscles.

“Hm, that's nice.” Bridgette's eyes flickered open and she yawned loudly.

“You came.” Deborah didn't form it as a question.

“You did also.” Bridgette smacked her lips and grimaced.

“The bathroom is down the hall,” Deborah said and sat, glancing down at her lap.

The bed shook as Bridgette climbed off. When a hand landed on her shoulder, she lifted her head. Bridgette's face was within kissing distance and she leaned forward, but Bridgette rested a finger over her lips.

“Hold that thought.” Bridgette ruffled her hair and left the room.