Love, Lust, and Other Mistakes (7 page)

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Authors: Eliza Lentzski

Tags: #Gay & Lesbian, #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Lesbian, #Lgbt, #Romantic Erotica

BOOK: Love, Lust, and Other Mistakes
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She presses her tongue fully against my sex, pushing the fabric into my hole.  I thrust my hips into her, hoping for something more fulfilling, but so far she’s content with teasing me to death.

“Please,” I whimper.

Her dark eyes flash.  She loves me like this.  Vulnerable and begging her for some kind of release. Her generous lips form a cocky smirk.  Still refusing to take my pants or underwear completely off, she pulls the now-saturated fabric of my underwear to the side. 

Something about the situation makes my pulse thump a little faster.  It’s totally unromantic.  It’s totally raw.  It’s like the woman I used to date left and a stranger showed up to have her way with me.  My legs are starting to ache from being pinned in this awkward position.  She hasn’t kissed me on the mouth.  She’s completely ignored my breasts. My nipples strain against the padding of my push-up bra. For all intents and purposes, I’m still fully clothed minus my jeans being halfway down my thighs and the crotch of my panties shoved to the side.

I throw my head back and allow myself an indulgent moan when her mouth finally comes into contact with my bare skin.  She runs the flat of her tongue the full length of my slit.  She takes her time.  I swear I can feel every taste bud bumping against me.  When she reaches the apex of my sex, her tongue quickly swirls around my aching clit.  She sucks it into her mouth, but before I can fully enjoy myself, her mouth is suddenly gone.

I make a frustrated noise, but she only clucks her tongue against the roof of her mouth in response.  “Patience,” she tells me in a stern voice.

She runs the tips of her fingers over my shaved skin, still teasing.  I’d do anything to wipe that smirk off her face, but I’m more afraid she’ll stop.  She presses harder the second run over and her digits slide through my wetness, just barely dipping in to part my nether lips.

“Yes…” I hiss when she slowly penetrates me to the first knuckle. 

I look down to watch the feminine finger press against me and disappear.  It’s terribly erotic.  She slides her finger all the way out, and before I can miss her, she pushes back in with two.  My eyes roll back at the sudden intrusion, but I’m wet enough to easily accommodate her sudden impatience.

She settles into a slow and steady pace, and I’m content to recline my head against an end throw pillow and enjoy the ride.  No sooner do I close my eyes, however, when I hear her voice again: “Watch me,” she orders gruffly.

My eyes snap open and I lean forward slightly. I watch the corded muscles of her forearm flex and the concentration on her beautiful face as she pushes and pulls in and out of me.  She brushes the pad of her thumb over my clit, and I swear I see stars.

With two fingers firmly inside me, she leans down again.  Her warm breath tickles against my overheating pussy and I suck in a sharp breath, waiting to feel her mouth again.   I don’t have to wait much longer before she latches onto my clit and wraps those perfect lips around my hypersensitive nub.

I moan out my appreciation. God I’ve missed this.  Her fingers. Her mouth. The way she knows what my body needs when I’m not brave enough to say the words.

She lays her free arm across my lower abdomen like a seatbelt.  She keeps me pinned to the couch cushions despite how my hips jerk and try to thrust into her.  I bite down on my lower lip and whimper.  My body shakes.  I can feel sweat trickle down my spine and pool in the small of my back beneath my t-shirt.

“Faith,” I pant out in a short, punctuated breath.

She looks up at the sound of her name, but keeps her mouth on my clit and her fingers continually thrusting in and out.

“I-I’m close,” I stutter out.

Her mouth curls up at the corners in a small smile, and her eyes lower back down to my pussy.  Her tongue works frantically at my clit, rotating between sucking and licking and swirling around the sensitive bundle.  Even if I hadn’t told her how close I was to cumming, she’d be able to tell from the tightness of my pussy.  Despite how my arousal lubricates her fingers, it’s become increasingly difficult for her to slide into me.

She starts to thrust harder and my moans become louder.  She bottoms out again and again, filling me up with the smooth stroke of her dedicated fingers.  The sounds of slapping skin and the clicking of my wet sex fill the space.  I grab onto her dark mane and desperately cling to her.

She rolls my clit, mashing it with her tongue, and it’s enough to shove me off this cliff on which I’ve been teetering for the past few minutes.  I clutch her hair, pulling at the roots and release a loud shout as my stomach tightens and I experience a sharp, intense wave of pressure.  She continues to slide in and out, prolonging my orgasm.  Her mouth stills on my clit, knowing how sensitive I get immediately after.  Her fingers begin to slow, downshifting gears from frantic to languor.

As I come down from my high, my breathing becomes less labored.  I lean back on the couch and shut my eyes momentarily, just listening to the sound of my heart pounding in my ears.  I look up, however, when I feel her begin to peel my pants the rest of the way down my legs.

I raise a carefully manicured eyebrow at her in silent questioning.  The smirk on her face splits into a full-wattage, double-dimpled grin.

“Don’t you think it’s time we get you out of these clothes?”

 

+++++

 

I wake up the next morning with sunshine warm on my face and my arms around her.  After she’d had her way with me last night with my clothes still mostly on, we’d continued in the bedroom with only one wardrobe change.  I have to admit, I slept more soundly last night than I have in a long time.

I look down at the woman deeply sleeping in my arms.  She’s got her head on my collarbone, and I hear her light breath coming and falling as she sleeps.  I run my fingers through her dark locks and kiss the top of her head.  She makes a quiet noise.

“Morning, hun,” I murmur into her soft hair.

Her eyes flutter open, and I can practically see her brain churning as she tries to remember where she is.  Instead of melting into my morning embrace, her body goes rigid.  In a flash she’s pushing me off of her and she’s out of bed.

“What the hell?” I sourly call out as I’m hastily discarded.

She pulls her discarded t-shirt over her head. "This was a mistake,” she croaks out in her thick morning voice.  She shakes out her long, loose locks.

I sit up in bed, holding the cotton sheet against my naked torso.  “What was?”  I naively ask, but I already know the answer.

She grimaces.  “I was momentarily weak last night.  It won't happen again."

I stick my bottom lip out in what I hope is an irresistible pout.  I really want her back in my bed. “Fai…why can’t we just go back to the way things used to be?”

She shoots me an icy glare while searching for her socks.  “You know why.” 

She pulls her jeans on, and without even bothering to zip up the front, she’s out of my bedroom.  I hear the chain rattle on my front door and the sound of the deadbolt being unlocked.  

Then the door slams shut.  I swear I can feel the shock waves reverberate through the walls.

 

+++++

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ALLEY RENDEZVOUS

 

 

I
bounce on the balls of my feet with my eyes closed, moving my body in time with the music pouring out of the club’s sound system.  Foreign hands come to rest on my body, but I deftly move to avoid the hold of men who dance in my proximity.  When I open my eyes, I catch a glimpse of my partner sitting at a table with our co-workers a few feet away from the dance floor.  We’ve just closed one of the biggest cases of the year, and I feel like celebrating.

I grin and crook my finger at her, becoming her to join me on the dance floor.  She quickly averts her gaze as if embarrassed I’ve caught her staring.  She turns me down with an imperceptible shake of her head.  I shrug and close my eyes again, losing myself to the music.

 

+++++

 

I saunter
away from the bar, holding a red plastic cup in one hand.  I maneuver around couples and groups of conversing friends on my way back to the table where my co-workers and I habitually sit at the neighborhood bar.  One of my co-workers, a pretty redheaded detective named Rebecca prefers the location of our habitual high-top table over the other tables at the local club.  She claims it’s conveniently close to the bar, but far enough from the dance floor and stage so we can converse without yelling over the music.  I’m not the type to concern myself with the strategic position of our favored hangout area, however; I’m just here to blow off some steam after a particularly trying month.

When I reach our table, Rebecca and another co-worker, a string-bean-tall detective named Murphy appear deep in conversation.  Rebecca and Murphy are kind of the brains of the operation.  I’m more at ease with a weapon in my hand and a criminal to track down.  They stop their apparently heated debate long enough to flash me a quick smile as I take a seat on a vacant bar stool.

“Where’s Maddie?” I ask, noticing my partner’s absence.

Rebecca points
toward the service entrance at the rear of the club. “She thought she saw a drug deal going down.  She left when you were getting a refill.”

I quickly hop up from the table, earning
curious glances from my co-workers. “I, uh, should go check on her,” I explain. “Don’t want her to get ambushed or something.”

Murphy gives me one of his puppy-dog grins.
“I’ll watch your drink for you,” he offers.

“Thanks,”
I curtly thank him.  I’m not really worried about date rape drugs getting slipped into my Jack and diet, but he’s a nice guy to watch out for me.

I hastily grab my
leather jacket and feel for the standard issue firearm tucked into the inner lining as I make my way toward the back exit.  Although the northern California weather isn’t cold enough to warrant a coat, it would create unnecessary chaos if I storm through the club waving around a gun.

I push
out the rear metal doors and I’m greeted with a shock of cooler air.  Since we’d arrived at the neighborhood bar after work, the evening had begun to cool down.  I hesitate in the alley, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the twilight.  To my right is a large, green dumpster.  To my left, a pile of broken down boxes resting against the building.

I ta
ke a few careful steps deeper into the alley. “Madison?” I call out.

Next to me, the dumpster suddenly moves.  Its wheels crunch
against small stones on the pavement.  And before I could react, I find myself slammed against the exterior wall of the club. Strong hands push against my rib cage, forcing the air out of my lungs as my back smashes against the rough brick. I drop my jacket and mentally curse when I hear my gun dislodged from its hiding place and clatter noisily on the black pavement. I close my eyes and instinctively tensed my body, readying myself for the second impact.

“What took you so long?” co
mes a mirthful, feminine voice.

I crack an eye open to see my partner standing before me.

“Huh?  What’s going on?” I ask, confused. “Becca said you’d seen a drug deal going down.” I crane my neck, looking for signs of a struggle.

A small, mischievous smile creeps onto her
curved mouth. “No criminal activity out here,” she reveals.  She grabs onto the front fabric of my thin tank top and her nails scratch against my abdomen. “Although what we do to each other might still be illegal in some states.”

I suck
in a sharp breath. “Y-you lied to our friends,” I state incredulously.

“I wanted to get you
alone,” she says, nuzzling her nose into the crook of my neck, “and I knew you’d come out here if you thought you were missing out on a bust.”

My blood races
faster in my veins. “We can’t…we can’t keep doing this.”

She
lets go of my shirt and frowns. “Why not? Don’t you like it?”

“Of course I
like
it,” I admit.  “In fact, the word ‘duh’ comes to mind.”

She gives me her best pouty face, which is admittedly hard to resist.
“Then what’s the problem?”

“Doesn’t this,”
I say, indicating our dark and dank surroundings, “make you feel a little cheap?”

She presses herself against me once again. “No,” she breathes into my ear
. “But it
does
make me hot.”  She grabs my hand and guides it down the front of my jeans. “Feel how hot it makes me.”

Despite the distracting shudder she pulls from me, my body goes into autopilot. My
fingers instinctively creep beneath her waistband, and I press my fingers into her cotton-covered sex.  I can feel the soft nub poking between two pouting lips.  But when I press harder against her, I feel Maddie’s hand wrap around my wrist.

I look
into hazel-green eyes. “Change your mind?” I ask, half afraid of the answer.

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