Winter Jacket (15 page)

With her arms
holding my head tight against her, she relied on her legs. Her legs felt impossibly long as she wrapped me up in them. They were also deceptively strong. She pulled me tight against her, wrapping her legs around my torso and flexed. I may have been preoccupied with her hands and fingers and willowy arms when I first met her, but I should have never neglected those legs. I blame it on winter when she hid her toned thighs and calves beneath blue jeans.

I felt her lift her hips off the bed, straining for some form of contact.  Rather than grind down against her, I undulated with her, denying her unspoken plea.  Instead, I selfishly reveled at the sight of the frustrated woman pinned beneath me.  It was as though along with her clothing,
Hunter’s innocence, her poise, had been stripped away as well.  But she remained perfect, if not more so without her conservative clothing hiding the gentle dip at her waist, her jutting hipbones, and her modest, but more than adequate cleavage.

I shook
my head, rattling me back to the moment.  Hunter began to whimper from frustration.  “Please, Elle,” she pled.

My fingers curled beneath the waistband of the pants I’d let her borrow.  I paused and wet my lips as I stared into those blue-grey eyes, silently begging permission.  Her hips rose off the bed
, and I held my breath as I pulled off her remaining clothes.

I took my time, running my palms over tender, flawless thighs.
I dug my thumbs in and watched her come undone.  I should have relented, should have given in to the overwhelming desire to lean in and run my tongue along the length of her folds.  But I didn't want it to be over.  I wanted to make it last in case this was just another dream or an experience limited to tonight.

I ran my hands up the length of her pale, inner thighs until my fingertips rested on her hipbones and my thumbs brushed against far more sensitive skin at the juncture between her legs.
I kept my hands immobile, save for the rhythmic up and down motion of my thumbs.  My short thumbnails stroked along her most vulnerable flesh.

I slid down to belly-button level and kissed and licked her bare skin,
marveling at how my touch made her stomach tighten to form femininely defined muscles.  I slid lower still and leaned in to breath warm air against her most sensitive parts.  She moaned, and I felt her thighs tense beneath my hands.  I wet my lips, preparing myself for what I was about to do.

I breathed in deeply, overcome from
her scent. Tentatively, I inched my tongue closer to her shaved, satin skin. I slipped my tongue along her outside folds, tasting the early desire that had accumulated there. I heard her sigh above me as I gently parted her lips and blew onto the exposed skin before sinking my tongue deep inside.

“O
h my God.” Hunter’s hands immediately went to the back of my head, forcing my tongue deeper into her wet sex.  I nuzzled my nose against her swollen clit, practically feeling her heart beat through the tiny bundle of flesh.

I moaned against her and tightened my grip on her upper thighs.  She was delicious, tangy and clean; my eyes practically rolled back into my head
at the taste.  I licked deeper, allowing her arousal to coat my tongue and lips, and I hummed against her skin.  I heard her sharp gasp as I continued my exploration. 

"Elle!" she cried
when my tongue finally came into contact with her sensitive clit. I flicked my tongue against the tiny nub, causing her hips to involuntarily cant toward the ceiling.

Her
hips jerked and bucked.  “Please, Elle.  I need your fingers,” she unabashedly begged.

Not wanting to waste anymore precious moonlight, I ran my hand down her stomach one final time before parting her lips with my fingers and sinking two digits deep inside.  I glanced fleetingly up at her only to see her
bite down hard on her lower lip to keep from crying out. I slowly withdrew my now-coated fingers, feeling her inner walls quickly adjust to the sudden intrusion.  I lazily slid my fingers up and down her slit, rubbing her arousal over the smooth skin. 

I pushed my fingers deep
again and remained motionless while I captured her tiny bud between my lips. Hunter gasped.  “Elle…Oh God.  I’m so wet for you.”

I withdrew my fingers and pushed the
m back in hard and began to attack her insides with even and steady strokes.  I could feel her inner walls clamp tightly around my fingers, and the click of her wet sex filled the room.

I closed my eyes, freeing my mind of any misgivings.  All that existed was the exquisite woman wrapped around my fingers and the burning ache between my own legs.  I lapped and tongued her clit while I continued to thrust my fingers in and out
, while her thighs quivered around my ears.

“I’m gonna…”
Hunter gasped suddenly.  “I…I’m so…so…close. I—Oh, God.  Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” she rambled.

I removed my mouth
for a moment and stared deep into her pleading eyes.  “That’s it. Cum for me, Hunter.  Let yourself go,” I coaxed as I quickened my strokes. 

“God, Elle,” she moaned. “Fuck. Fuck. It’s so good. I can’t…I…oh God. Oh yes. Your fingers. Yes, just like that,” she chanted.
Her body shook uncontrollably and she bounced around the bed, practically fucking herself on my hand.

I took one last glance
at the beautiful woman in my bed. “You’re so gorgeous,” I murmured, more to myself, and recaptured her clit between my parted lips.

“Oh shit!”
Hunter cried, her body jolting upright in bed. She grabbed me and placed gentle, but desperate pressure on the back of my head, while entangling her fingers in my loose locks.  “Elle,” she panted. “I’m… Fuck!!”

I looked up when I heard a soft
thump
to see Hunter had fallen backwards onto the bed.  Her eyes were closed tight, her mouth twisted into a small smile of satisfaction.  She released the death-grip on my now-tangled hair and breathed out a soft sigh.

I slowly and gently eased my saturated fingers out of
her and soothed her tender sex with small licks.  I smiled serenely and wiped at my mouth with the aid of her inner thighs. "Good?" I asked with only a mild amount of trepidation.

She flexed and curled her toes.  “God, Elle.
So
good.”

I crawled up
shakily, my arms sore and heart thumping heavily in my chest, my legs nearly asleep due to their prior stationary position. I snuggled into her naked and now sweaty form, pulling the tangled bed sheets up with me to cover us both.

I rested my head on her bare chest and listened to the rhythmic lub-dubbing as
her heart struggled to return to its normal beat. Without exchanging words, we simultaneously breathed in deeply and slowly exhaled. She stroked my hair and I closed my eyes, relishing her gentle touch. I tried not to dwell on what had just happened.  There would be time for that later.  The sun would be awake soon.

+++++

CHAPTER EIGHT

The next morning I woke up to the sounds of the garbage truck outside. Sunshine crept through the wooden flats of the bedroom blinds.
  I stretched, arching my lower back and reaching my hands and flexing my fingers until they reached the headboard. My fingers wrapped around the sturdy, inlay wooden slats.  I'd chosen this headboard specifically for its strength and the ease with which one could be tied to it.  I hadn't gotten to really test its durability, however.

I glanced over at the bedside table and internally panicked when I saw the time illuminated on my alarm clock. With the previous night's events, I'd fallen asleep without setting my alarm. I hadn't missed class yet, but if I didn't hurry, I was going to be late. I'd showered the previous night, but I'd worked up quite a sweat spending the evening with Hunter.
I unfortunately didn't have time to shower if I wanted to make it to my morning class.

My initial instinct was to bolt out of bed and rush around the house, but I had the presence of mind to remember the girl soundly sleeping beside me. I hazarded a glance in her direction.
 She lay on her side, facing me, with her hands curled near her face. Her eyes were loosely shut, the curve of her mouth planed flat.  

As I watched her sleep, her lips parted and I could better hear the even intake and release of air.
 I knew I couldn't delay the inevitable. As much as I wanted to stay in bed and just keep looking at her, I needed to get to work.  It was moments like this where I wished I had a more traditional job where I could just call in and take the entire day off. I could have canceled classes, I suppose, but I hated to do it.

I held my breath and slipped out of bed, careful not to wake up Hunter.
My reasoning said I was just being thoughtful and letting her sleep. My conscience, however, knew I was being a coward and evading her waking up and telling me she'd made a horrible mistake by sleeping with me.  I picked up the discarded clothes from the floor – my pajamas of yoga pants and t-shirt and the sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt I'd let Hunter borrow.  I pulled up my clothes from the previous night and I dutifully folded Hunter's clothes and set them on top of my bureau.

Hunter remained sleeping through my minimum noises, and I padded out of the room, grimacing at how the wooden floorboards squeaked and groaned with each careful step.
 I made my way into the bathroom and had just enough time to brush my teeth, wash my face, toss my hair up in a loose ponytail, and put on mascara.  I crept back into my bedroom to find an outfit.

My closet door was a single door that slid on rollers. I knew it would make an ugly sound, but I really needed to get some clothes and rush off to campus.
 I held my breath again and opened the door. The wheels shrieked terribly, metal on metal, and I looked once again in Hunter's direction. Her eyelashes fluttered, but she remained asleep.  I pulled a skirt, cardigan, and blouse from my closet. The plastic hangers clattered against each other as I removed the clothes, but she continued to sleep through it all.

I changed clothes quickly and quietly. I went to finish the ensemble with some accessories from the jewelry box that sat on top of my bureau. I'd had the white container since I was very young.
I'd gotten it as a present from my godparents for my First Communion in 1st grade. I lifted the lid, forgetting about the light tinkling song that played when open and the delicate ballerina who spun in tight concentric circles.  My getting out of bed and creaking across the wood floor hadn't made her stir. The squeaky closet door had barely provoked any reaction.  The plastic clatter of clothes hangers hadn't rendered on her radar.  But apparently the quiet chime of a childhood jewelry box was enough to tug her out of sleep.

She stretched fully on the mattress and made an adorable little noise that best resembled a baby pterodactyl.
I involuntarily stiffened, worried she might now be regretting staying the night. It had been a huge gamble sleeping with a former student. We needed to talk about what this was and what had happened. But for now I needed to get to campus and teach.  And I was sure she had a busy day as well.

She sat up slightly in bed and leaned her weight on her elbows.
As she straightened, the thin cotton sheet that had hid her nude form began to slip away.  She wrapped the extra material around her torso and bound her breasts.  Her pale skin contrasted attractively against the sage coloring of my sheets. Her grey eyes narrowed to slits as she squinted into the morning light. Her golden hair, long and loose, framed her face. The sun bounced off a few adorable strands wildly out of place on her normally impeccably styled hair.

"What time is it?" she mumbled. She rubbed at her eyes and the sheet slipped further south, revealing just the very top of dusky pink areolas.

“Just after 9.”

She gave me a sleepy smile and raked her fingers through her hair. Sometime during the night it had fallen out of her ponytail.
I swore under my breath. What I wouldn't give to play hooky today and go back to bed with her. I imagined the most deliciously languid day, drinking strong, rich coffee for breakfast, and only getting out of bed when necessary.

I knew I was going to be late if I didn't leave soon.
But despite my time-phobia I sat down on the edge of the mattress.  Hunter grabbed my hands and started playing with my fingers.

“Good morning,” I greeted. 

“Morning,” she grumbled back.

I couldn’t help the grin on my face.  She was adorably disgruntled this morning. 
“Are you a morning person?”

She dropped one of my hands to rub at her eyes again. “Not really.”

She wiggled a little closer, the thin covers the only thing hiding her beautiful body. “Last night you mentioned something about having a crush on someone.”

“Mmhmm?” she said sleepily.

I dropped my eyes to my hands on my lap. “This might be silly to ask now, but is it me?”

Hunter’s
laugh was loud, but warm. “I thought you had a PhD?”

I scowled. “Stop it,” I complained. “I just…I wanted to make sure there wasn’t someone else I was competing with.”

“Prof—.” She caught herself, smiled, and started again. “I think that little black dress you wore at your house party made me gay."

"What? Really?"

“I couldn't keep my eyes off your legs." A small, shy smile crept onto her beautiful face.  I couldn’t mistake the way her gaze lingered on my legs now. “Why do you insist on teaching in skirts?” she murmured in a low burr.  “It’s all I could think about last semester.  I’m surprised I managed a passing grade.”

I cleared my thr
oat, embarrassed. “I have to get to campus to teach, but don’t feel like I’m kicking you out.  Take your time, get something to eat. There's cereal and bagels and juice and coffee and all kinds of things in the kitchen. Just don’t steal the family jewels.” I grabbed a pair of heels from beneath the bed that I hadn't bothered to put away and slipped them on my bare feet.

“I know you have to go, but I wish you didn’t.” She shifted again in bed, and the sheets slipped down her body even more.

I sucked in a deep breath.  “That makes two of us,” I mumbled.  I bent my head and pressed my lips against hers. Her mouth was so warm and her lips were so soft that it nearly made me forget my responsibilities that day.  When her hand went to the side of my face and cupped my cheek, I nearly lost it.  I deepened the kiss, running my tongue along the front of her even teeth.  She made a muffled noise into my mouth.

Still mindful of the time, I pulled back before I was too long gone to care.
Her eyes were still closed, lightly lidded, and her wide mouth curled at the edges. "Have a nice day," she murmured.

Mustering all my willpower, I stood up from the bedside. I smoothed my hands along the outside of my pencil skirt. "You too, Hunter." 

++++++

The day moved by slowly, or at least it seemed to.
It had been a long, late day filled with classes, committee meetings, and a senior seminar.  Thinking about Hunter back at my house, wondering what she was currently doing, put me both on edge and at ease. 

Because I’d abruptly stopped texting Troian after announcing Hunter’s presence at my home the previous night, Troian had texted me repeatedly and left voicemails throughout the day, but I ignored them all. 

When I returned home later that evening, the house was empty. I hunted for signs of life, but found only Sylvia.  I searched for evidence that Hunter had in fact slept over, but my bed upstairs had been carefully remade and the clothes she'd borrowed were still folded on top of my bureau where I'd left them. The wet clothes she'd peeled out of, the catalyst for the shared evening, were gone, no longer hanging from hooks near the living room fireplace. I couldn’t deny the feeling of disappointment that sat in the pit of my stomach to find her gone.

I didn’t have her number.
Since I was no longer her professor, I didn’t have access to personal information like that minus her school email address, which was in the university directory.  If she’d lived on campus the directory would at least have given me the extension to her dorm room’s landline.  But she lived off-campus.  I could email her, but that felt cold and impersonal.  I knew where she lived, having dropped her off at her apartment once, but that felt more stalker than sweet. Plus, if she had roommates, I didn’t want to make things awkward or uncomfortable for her. Should I wait until she showed up again? Wait for her to contact me?

I grabbed my phone and flipped through my contacts until I came to the familiar number.  I sent off a brief text:
Are you free right now?  I need to see you.

+++++

Half an hour later I found myself at Del Sol’s, my favorite coffee shop.  I’d ordered a mocha latte and was now seated at a small table by myself, waiting and idling trailing my fingertip along the top of my mug.  Del Sol’s was relatively empty; I was surprised there weren’t more students flooding the place and cramming for midterms with the aid of copious caffeine.

I smiled pleasantly at a woman who walked by.  She
was wearing a t-shirt with the university’s name printed across the front, but I didn’t recognize her. I looked back down at my drink.  My barista had manipulated the foam into the shape of a heart.  Normally I got leaves.  It seemed tragically foreboding.

“Still can’t stop reading women’s t-shirts, I see,” a familiar voice called out.  I looked
back up and smiled when I saw my ex-girlfriend, Cady.

She always teased me about my compulsive reading
.  I couldn’t help it; my eyes are naturally drawn to the printed word.  It usually only becomes problematic when I’m driving or walking.  Instead of paying attention to the road directly ahead, I’m reading billboards, road signs, mile markers, and license plates on the cars that pass me.  When I walk, I inevitably end up reading the words on t-shirts.  I considered wearing dark sunglasses, even at twilight, so no one could see the trajectory of my eyes and mistakenly believe I was checking out their breasts.  I’m not a boob girl; I’m a
word
girl.

“If they didn’t want me to look at their chest, they shouldn’t have letters there,” I countered.

Cady and I had been good together, but it had eventually become clear that we made better friends than girlfriends.  Our busy schedules and the drive for respective successful careers had rendered us exhausted by the end of the workday.  The dreaded Lesbian Death Bed had snuck into my life so quickly and without much protest that when I’d looked at the calendar and realized it had been several months since we’d last been intimate, I hardly protested its arrival.

Even though we could casually meet like this for coffee now without bloodshed, like most relationships, I suppose, the end of ours was messy
.  The end of relationships, no matter the length and intensity, had only ever been emotionally violent for me.  I seemed to have a pattern of starting and ending romantic couplings in that way.  I blamed it on being an Aries.

Time has the power to heal many things, and I was happy we’d come out the other side.  She looked good.  Happy.  I knew she’d been seeing someone new and it was relatively serious, or so I’d gathered from our brief conversations. 

“So what’s new?” she asked as she slid into the chair across from me.  “What’s this urgent thing you need to talk to me about?”

I grunted noncommittally and looked down at my hands that cup
ped my coffee mug. Hunter’s words from the previous night echoed in my head. “There’s a girl.”

Cady’s
face scrunched up.  “There’s always a girl.”

I sighed and pushed my mug further away.  I couldn’t deny her wordless accusation. “I know.
But this time it might get me in trouble.”

An eyebrow arched. “Okay.  I’ll take the bait.”

I looked down at my hands.  I flexed and stretched my fingers, feeling the tendons pull.  Just a few hours ago, these same hands were wandering Hunter’s slight curves.  “Her name is Hunter,” I said warily. “And she’s lovely.”