In My Skin (2 page)

She leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “We're going on to a club later. Will you come? I'd really like to dance with you."

Goose bumps broke out on my skin where her warm breath touched. I nodded. “I'd like that."

She leaned closer still until her nose was touching my cheek, and I had to bite my lip to suppress a moan.

The sound of applause brought us apart, and we turned to find Max heading back to the table. Instead of going right to her seat she came over to me and handed me the book. “For when you're less distracted.” She winked and returned to her seat.

I would have felt awful, but Chaise was resting a hand on the back of my chair and one finger was drawing little circles around my shoulder blade.

I'd never really been a clubbing person, so if it hadn't been for the promise of a dance with Chaise I wouldn't have been so willing to accept her invitation. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when we arrived at Angel and I discovered that it was a small, intimate supper club that seemed to cater exclusively to same-sex couples. We were shown to a table by a waiter who greeted Chaise and her friends by name, and soon afterwards he returned with a tray bearing six glasses of some kind of pink liquid. Chaise handed me a glass.

"A Halo—speciality of the house."

I took a sip. The fruity taste was pleasant, but the second it hit my throat it started to burn. I fanned my mouth and laughed. “Jeez, there is
nothing
angelic about that."

Chaise grinned. “It's an acquired taste. Would you prefer something else?"

"Is there something that could replace the lining of my throat?” I took another, smaller sip. “This will be fine, but I think I'll switch to beer after it."

"Good idea—we usually do.” She clinked our glasses together.

The music was soft enough that we were able to talk without having to shout at each other. I found out that Chaise was a former school teacher who had decided to change careers when cutbacks had left her without a job. Goddess had been conceived by the two friends over a bottle of tequila the night after Chaise received her severance check.

She wanted to know about my career, as did Sophie, only Sophie's interest lay more in the direction of the goriest crimes I had ever been involved in, and if I had ever defended anybody famous.

I got my dance just before midnight. Chaise stood up and held out her hand, tilting her head in the direction of the small dance floor. I tried not to let my nerves show as I took her hand and we found a space on the floor.

"So, who leads?” I wasn't quite sure where to put my hands.

Chaise took my hands and placed them on her shoulders, then put her own on my hips. “Why don't we just wing it?” She took the step that brought us flush against each other.

For a few minutes my feet felt a bit like lead. I just kind of shuffled about like I'd never seen a dance floor before, much less actually set foot on one.

"This really is all new to you, isn't it?” Chaise's hands were gently massaging my hips as she moved slowly against me.

"Dancing? I suppose I'm a bit rusty..."

"Dancing with another woman.” Her arm wound around my waist. “Anything with another woman."

I knew that there was no need to answer—everything about me must have screamed greenhorn.

"I like you Anna, I think that's fairly obvious.” I could hear the smile in her voice and my own lips turned up in response.

"I-I like you too, Chaise."

"Glad to hear it.” She leaned back far enough that we faced each others. “But I'm not looking to be the straight girl's little adventure.” She spoke softly, but her eyes were serious.

I nodded. “You're right, of course, I've never done anything with another woman. But I'm not looking for an adventure. I don't play games, Chaise—its not who I am.” I raised a hand from her shoulder and laid it on the side of her neck. “I've never been attracted to a woman before, but ever since I met you I can't stop thinking about you. I come into Goddess every day hoping that I'll see you.” I knew that I might be saying too much, but it felt like I needed to be completely honest.

She smiled. “You mean it's not for our fabulous coffee?"

"Oh, your coffee
is
fabulous. But it's you that kick starts my day.” Every time she smiled my own mouth seemed to want to mirror the action. I shrugged, embarrassed.

"Wow. That's-wow!” She didn't strike me as the type of person who was often at a loss for words.

"Is that a good wow or a ‘dear God I need to get away from this mad woman now’ wow?” I kept my tone as light as I could, but my pulse raced uncomfortably as I waited for her answer.

Chaise laughed and pulled me close again. It was a strange sensation to feel breasts pressed so close to my own, but certainly not a bad one. “It's definitely a good wow."

Relief flooded me. My hand on her neck found its way into her hair. I twined my fingers in the silky strands and breathed in her scent. “So, what happens now?"

"Whatever we want to happen.” One of her hands had slipped under the hem of my sweater and was stroking the skin above the waistband of my slacks. A pleasant tingle ran up my spine. “But I think we should take it slowly. I don't want to rush you into anything that you might not be ready for."

I nodded, pleased with her answer. “So, we ... date?” Oh God, did that sound horribly immature?

"I'd like that. How about dinner tomorrow night?” She nuzzled lightly at my ear

"Sounds good.” I tilted my head slightly to give her more access as she worked her way down to my neck. “Just one thing."

Chaise raised her head and looked at me. “What's that?"

Shit! I could feel myself blushing again. “Do you ... uh, do you kiss on the first date?"

"I wouldn't be averse to that.” One corner of her mouth lifted and her eyes glittered playfully.

I swallowed with some difficulty. “Because, you know, technically, I think this is actually our first date."

Her pupils definitely flared this time. “I think you might be right. Technically.” She raised one hand until it was resting at the nape of my neck, and almost in slow motion she lowered her head and brought our lips together.

It was different—where I was used to firm lips and a whisker rough jaw, Chaise was all soft and smooth. And hot. Oh, so very hot. My lips parted automatically, and she briefly dipped her tongue inside before quickly retreating. Wanting more, I pressed closer and a little moan escaped my throat. Chaise seemed to understand, because she touched her tongue to my bottom lip, ran it back and forth a few times, then slipped it into my mouth. Heat flooded my body, and the hand I had on her shoulder tightened.

It was over far too soon. When Chaise raised her head I let my eyes drift open and looked at her, feeling a little dazed. She wasn't looking too composed herself.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again.” She grinned widely. “Wow!"

Since the dawn of time, it seemed, every member of the Stuart family had gathered together on Saturday afternoon at my grandparents’ house to eat food stuffed with enough fat, salt and cholesterol to fell a herd of elephants—cooked, of course, by the women, and when the meal was over the woman would retreat to the kitchen to do the clean up and gossip while the men went out to the garden to play touch football or basketball or talk about cars or something equally manly. I'm the only woman in the family who hadn't married by twenty and become a mother by twenty years and nine months. Instead, I chose to go to college and on to law school. As a result I was something of an oddity in the family—though no less loved than any other member of the clan. I'd never really been able to join in the conversations about PTA meetings and the latest sale at Target, and I'd never been invited to volunteer any information about my career. It kept me on the edges a little and, while that didn't usually bother me, sometimes it made me a bit uncomfortable, like I didn't quite fit.

That Saturday I was more than a little distracted thinking about my upcoming date with Chaise and about the kiss we had shared—every time I thought about it my lips tingled and warmth spread from my belly through my blood. I couldn't remember ever feeling that level of anticipation leading up to a date with a man.

Everything with my family is a routine: arrive at gran's at twelve, cook dinner and set the table, eat at one, start the clean up at two, gather in the kitchen with the women to talk about the week—or Helen Johnson's new hairdo, or Marge Bellfield's ne'er-do-well son. I tried to smile when my cousin Lacy, holding her new baby son like some kind of trophy, smiled indulgently at me and told me not to worry, that women where having babies in their forties now. At about three my mother would start telling me that I was too thin, that I should let my hair grow out, that I was working too hard and that I wasn't getting any younger and it wasn't good for a woman to wait too long to have her first child. Gran would then chip in and update me on the status of the single men in the neighborhood. By half past three I was ready to leave. I usually managed to escape by about four, never empty handed. Mom and gran always loaded me down with enough food to freeze to keep me going through the week.

It wasn't the best part of my week, but it was four hours out of my life spent with people who loved me and wanted the best for me, so it was never really a chore.

It was nearly five when I arrived home that day. I was meeting Chaise at the restaurant at seven, so I decided to have a long bath with a glass of Chardonnay and a few Godiva chocolates. I was feeling pretty mellow by the time I sat at the dressing table putting on my make-up. I took more time and care than usual even though I just applied my normal light foundation, a touch of eye shadow, mascara and lipstick. I tousled my hair with a little mousse and spritzed on some perfume. I had splurged on a new outfit—a simple, black dress with thin straps and some beads on the bodice that just brushed my knees. I added strappy back sandals, a beaded purse and a deep red shawl to add some color.

I took a taxi and arrived at the restaurant, Mango, a few minutes after seven. The Maitre d’ showed me to a table where Chaise was already waiting. She stood when she saw me coming, and quite literally stole the breath from my lungs. She looked stunning in a figure hugging, red dress with her blonde hair glowing under the lights. She smiled and when I was close enough she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"If we weren't taking things slowly I'd throw you down and fuck you right here.” Her voice was a soft whisper at my ear.

I shivered and bit the inside of my lip. “I think I might let you."

When we were seated across from each other, the Maitre d’ nodded politely and summoned a waiter.

"Would you like something to drink while you make your decision?” The young man handed us each a leather-bound menu.

We ordered a bottle of Chardonnay, and the waiter left us to consider the menu. I studied the menu with fake intensity, my eyes occasionally glancing over the top in Chaise's direction. The third time, our eyes met and I smiled a little sheepishly.

"Don't you just hate those first awkward moments of a first date?” I asked.

Chaise lowered her menu. “You're forgetting that we've already had our first date. And our first kiss” She gave me a very private smile.

At her words I felt a little tingle of desire run through my body and bit the inside of my lip.

A glint of mischief entered her eyes. “You're not cold, are you?"

Confused, I frowned. The temperature in the restaurant was pleasantly comfortable.

Chaise's eyes dropped briefly, and I automatically followed the direction of her gaze. My eyes came to rest on my breasts; specifically my nipples pushing almost demandingly at the material of my dress. I felt myself blush hotly and closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't tease. But I do love the way you blush” I felt her hand touch mine and opened my eyes in time to see her fingers pass lightly over my knuckles before retreating. She grinned and picked up her menu again. “I'll be good."

I could still feel her touch on my skin. “Not too good, I hope?” I hadn't planned the words, but I didn't regret them when they came out.

She raised an eyebrow, but the waiter arrived before she could reply.

Chaise ordered the chicken primavera while I chose a seafood salad. By the time we were halfway through our meal all awkwardness was gone—of course that could have had something to do with the bottle of wine we shared. But I was sure that the pleasant buzz thrumming in my blood had less to do with the wine than it did the company.

Chaise was indeed good company. She talked enthusiastically about her friends, about Goddess, and about her baby—a red Ducati motorcycle. She was also genuinely interested in what I had to say; she asked me about my work and my family and listened intently while I spoke. By the time we had eaten a dessert of raspberry crème brulee, and the bill arrived, I was surprised to find that we had been sitting there for nearly two hours. I was reluctant to see the evening end, so when Chaise suggested a night cap at Angel, I readily accepted. Plus, as sappy as it sounds, I had already come to think of Angel as
our place
. We'd had our first dance there, our first kiss.

The house band was playing something soft and bluesy. We danced several times, real up close and personal, not a breath of air could get between us kind of dances. It was after one when we finally left Angel. I desperately wanted to invite Chaise back to my place, but common sense—and the fact that I wouldn't have known what to do with her once we got there—held my tongue, and we shared a brief but satisfying kiss before exchanging phone numbers and getting taxis to go home.

When I got back to my apartment I closed the door behind me, leaned back against it and grinned hugely.

"Best date
ever
!"

On Monday I had to leave town for two days to take a deposition. I was kept busy enough that, aside from a few quick phone calls, I didn't have much time to talk to Chaise. So, by the time I got home on Wednesday I was looking forward to seeing her so much that just the thought of it made my skin tingle with anticipation. Had I ever been so eager to see a man that my fingers itched with the need to touch, that I found myself drifting as I remembered the taste of his lips? I certainly couldn't recall a time when my needs and desires had been so near the surface. I resisted the urge to go right to the coffee shop the minute I got off the plane, but instead went home, threw off my business suit, showered and dressed in a pair of linen trousers and a soft, lilac sweater.