September Canvas (21 page)

“Faythe…”

“Mmm?”

“Oh,” Deanna whispered. “You’re like fire.”

“No, you are.” Faythe pushed a hand down between them, slipping inside Deanna with ease. Feeling her own arousal surge, Faythe wrapped her free arm tight around Deanna while caressing her deeper and deeper with the other. “You’re so hot, I’m concerned you have a fever,” she said teasingly. “You might just need a thorough examination.”

“Yes, Dr. Hamilton. Whatever you say.” Deanna groaned and shifted restlessly on the countertop. “I think I need your healing touch very, very badly.”

Faythe picked up a steady rhythm, pushing into Deanna, rubbing her thumb around her clitoris without actually touching it. Deanna moaned again and spread her legs in a wordless invitation.

“Jeez. You feel so good.” Faythe’s voice was barely audible even to herself, but Deanna seemed to hear her.

“You make me
feel
so good.”

Faythe clung to Deanna with her arm around her waist, burying her head against her neck. As Deanna eventually trembled and pressed her knees together, Faythe knew she was going to come. “Oh, yeah,” she murmured, and moved her hand faster, her thumb directly on Deanna’s clitoris.

“Faythe, oh yes. Yes!” Deanna clutched at her, her mouth half open as she breathed the words against the top of Faythe’s head. She soon became incoherent and Faythe became so turned on by the sounds Deanna made, she nearly came too. Holding Deanna tight, she kissed her temples and cooed softly, which would have sounded completely dorky any other time, but right now, it felt like the right thing. Deanna finally seemed to find her bearings and sat up, smiling lazily at Faythe.

“So, this is how you fix breakfast?”

“Yeah, it’s a good cardiovascular start in the morning.” Faythe grinned. “Honestly, I’d planned on a conventional mushroom omelet.”

“Aha. Well, before you get started, I want to know one thing.”

“What’s that?” Faythe pushed a damp strand of hair from Deanna’s face. She had never looked as stunning.

“Did you come?”

“Eh, no. Not yet. I mean, this was my fantasy, but really, it was all about you.”

“So you don’t need to come.”

“Oh, sure,
eventually
.” Faythe felt herself blush. “But you’re hungry, right?”

“Oh, yes. I am. Starving, in fact.” Deanna leaned back on her hands and looked so innocent Faythe knew she was being facetious.

“What are you talking about?”

“Not what. Whom. I’m starving for you, for that sweet little mouth of yours, to begin with.” She tugged Faythe closer again, devouring her lips. The desire that simmered skin-deep erupted and Faythe whimpered as Deanna cupped her breasts inside Faythe’s robe.

“So where do you want me? Any fantasy I can help you with?” Faythe gasped as Deanna bit down gently on her neck.

“You’re already doing it.” Deanna stood and took Faythe into her arms. “You’ve been doing it since day one.” 

* * *

“When’s your friend coming over?” Deanna asked as she poked her head into the living room where Faythe sat with her laptop on the couch.“In an hour or so. You’re welcome to stick around, though.” Faythe gazed longingly at her lover, who was entirely dressed in black. Black, slightly faded jeans, black long-sleeve T-shirt, black ankle boots, and a black down vest. She moved with a pantherlike grace.
So sexy. So
incredibly hot.

“I have to make a bunch of calls about the feedback my publisher and the writer sent regarding Bunny Buttercup.” Deanna kissed Faythe tenderly. “Then Todd from the garage is bringing the car. He lives just up the road and offered to drive it home for me.”

“Sweet of him.”

“I know. So I’ll be back around seven tonight, okay? Maybe sooner.”

“Okay.” Faythe didn’t want to admit that she wanted Deanna around for backup and knew she’d miss her as soon as she left the room.
Boy, I’ve got it bad.
She’d fallen fast and hard for Deanna.
I don’t
understand and I certainly can’t explain it.

“All right. See you later.” Deanna kissed her again and hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder. “I have my cell if you need me.”

“Thanks.”

Faythe returned to her text and let her fingers merely play with the keys, typing the words as they came. She had always worked like that, a fact that drove her study-group friends at college crazy. Usually, when she went through the text later in the evening or the next day, she found quite a few gold nuggets to work with, or at least she thought so.
Mom
would probably call me delusional and say that I’m kidding myself. No,
that’s what Dad would say.

Her mother would start in on the guilt trip from hell, listing all the sacrifices she’d made during Faythe’s upbringing, especially remaining married to a man she didn’t love for Faythe’s sake. For the first time, thinking about what her mother had “given up” didn’t affect Faythe. If Cornelia meant that she had sacrificed sleeping with an abundance of men, she’d more than made up for it later. Faythe had lost count of her mother’s lovers by the time she left for college. A new thought occurred to her. Was her high-profile job as a TV personality a way for her mother to keep scoring? Faythe laughed. It sounded too preposterous.

The doorbell rang and she jumped. Carefully, Faythe saved her document and closed the laptop before limping slowly to the front door.

Being a city girl, she checked through the side window and was reassured to see Pammie standing next to a slightly shorter young woman. Faythe took a deep breath and opened the door. Pammie looked a little nervous as she wrapped her arm around the girl. She was stunning, with long black hair framing a heart-shaped face, gray eyes, and pink, full lips.

Geez, just my type when I was in college. Can’t say I blame Pammie for
going the extra mile for her.

“Nice to see you again, Pammie. As you can tell, I’m fully ambulatory again.” Faythe turned to the other girl. “Hello, there. I’m Faythe. You must be Nana.”

“Yes. Thank you.” Nana looked nervously around, even glancing over her shoulder before she stepped inside. “I didn’t realize you lived…out here.”

“Oh, I see. Well, this is my aunt’s cabin and I’m just borrowing it. Why don’t we go into the kitchen? The view is great and I’ve baked an apple pie, believe it or not.” Faythe made small talk on the way to the kitchen, trying to create a more relaxed mood. She told Nana about how she’d decided to take a break from her career so she could try to figure out what to do next.

“I thought you’d be thrilled to be so popular on TV and everything?” Nana sat down at the table, crossing her arms in front of her. “Isn’t that a career of a lifetime?”

“Depends on what you really want, doesn’t it?” Faythe placed the steaming slices of apple pie on some plates and served coffee. “Ice cream with the pie, ladies?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they echoed, smiling at each other.

“You’re my kind of people,” Faythe said, scooping up vanilla ice cream. “Dig in. We can chat while we eat.” At first the girls seemed preoccupied with the dessert and coffee, and even Pammie seemed a bit shy. Faythe decided it was time to loosen things up. “Want to hear some Hollywood gossip?” She had yet to come across anyone who wasn’t interested in a little inside information.

“Oh, yes,” Nana said, surprising Faythe by speaking up first.

“Well, I would never gossip about anything anyone told me in confidence, but I can share a tidbit about one of our favorite actresses. It will become common knowledge soon, but you have to keep it to yourself until then.” Faythe wasn’t kidding herself. They’d be texting their friends the moment they left, but she didn’t see any harm in it. The news she was about to share with them had already broken in the inner circles in Hollywood and New York.

“We promise,” Pammie said gravely, her grin contradicting her words. “Hmm.” Faythe gave them a mock glare. “Well, you know Carolyn Black, the actress, right?”

“
The
Carolyn Black, who plays Diana Maddox in the movies?” Nana’s mouth fell open.

“The very same. Anyway, she’s getting married in New Haven, Connecticut, in two weeks.”

“Oh.” Pammie smiled politely and both the girls’ faces lost their wonder, since an actress getting married was hardly a scoop. “That’s neat.”

“Wait. There’s more.” Faythe leaned forward. “She’s marrying her lover of three years. Annelie Peterson.”

“Really?” Pammie’s eyes grew wide. “
Really
?”

“Really.”

“Carolyn Black’s gay?” Nana looked back and forth between them. “For real?”

“For real. It’s been a public secret for years, but she’s pretty private and so is her partner, so the press has been keeping the lid on. We knew if we spilled the beans, these two women would never give us an interview again, nor would any of their big-star friends.”

“That’s some news.” Pammie glanced at Nana. “Which kind of ties into why we’re here.”

Nana recoiled visibly, pressing herself against the seat back and folding her arms over her chest. “Pammie,” she said in a low, warning voice. 

“Nana, quit stalling. I practically had to drag you here, and you know it kills me when you treat yourself like you do.”

“It’s really not your business how I live my life, is it?” Nana spoke curtly, and even if Faythe sympathized with Pammie, she also recognized the pain behind Nana’s words.

“It is my business, because I love you,” Pammie said hoarsely. “I’m not ashamed of it, and you can’t make me stop.” Pammie’s soft voice shattered Nana’s defenses, and the young woman gripped the edge of the table with enough force to whiten her knuckles. 

“But I’m not worth your love. Or anyone’s. You
know
that.” Her words sounded half accusatory, half pleading.

“No, I don’t!” Pammie whispered, her voice intense. “I don’t know that at all.
You
think that. You think you don’t deserve to be loved, but that’s not true!” Pammie looked like she tried to stay calm, but her voice quivered. “And it’s the same as saying that I’m doing something wrong too.”

“What do you mean?” Nana seemed to have forgotten about Faythe for a moment. She only had eyes for Pammie. “You’re perfect. You do everything right.”

“Everything apart from being gay, you mean?” Pammie’s eyes hardened.

“Those are my mother’s words.”

“And you must think there’s something to them, since you keep on bringing them up.”

“I’ve never said it’s wrong to be gay!”

“You’ve used your mother’s opinions as an excuse for a lot of things, which is nearly the same thing.”

“Stop. Wait. Hold it.” Faythe pushed the ice-cream carton between them. “Have some more ice cream and chill. No pun intended. You won’t solve anything by playing the blame game.”

“But…” Pammie looked rebellious.

“Eat.”

The girls looked at each other and reached for the spoon at the same time.

“Here. Let me.” Nana scooped up some ice cream and put it on Pammie’s plate. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry for yelling too.” Pammie said. “I knew we needed a referee. We’ve only reached the yelling stage so far.”

“It’s my fault.” Nana stared at her ice cream and tears rose in her eyes. “I don’t mean to sound self-absorbed or melodramatic. It’s true.” Faythe sipped her coffee and looked encouragingly at Nana. “Why don’t you tell me why you think it’s your fault, though I don’t even know what fault we’re talking about.”

“I did something terrible. I lied. To a lot of people. I was such a bitch.”

“Why did you lie, and what was it all about?”

“I was hurt, which was entirely my own fault, and I wanted to hurt the other person back. Instead of just causing her to be embarrassed, I destroyed her life.”

“Can you tell me more?” Faythe asked, her heart thundering.

“I was eighteen at the time. I’m twenty now. She was my high school art teacher and I had such a crush on her. I’d never been attracted to another woman or girl before, and to me it was obvious she had to feel the same way. My parents wanted me to keep going steady with my boyfriend, but once I realized how I felt about my teacher, I knew I could never feel that way about a boy, or a man.”

“You’re Savannah Mueller.” Faythe stared at the girl who’d caused Deanna so much pain. She’d been prepared to loathe her with every cell in her body, but instead she saw this guilt-ridden, traumatized young woman who’d clearly lost herself in the process.

“How do you know?” Nana stared at her with fear in her wide eyes before redirecting her attention to Pammie. “You said she had no idea about anything. Did you tell her?”

“No. Of course not. Didn’t you notice that she lives next to Ms. Moore?” Pammie gestured toward the lake. “And you wanted to meet her, didn’t you?”

“Jesus, I can’t believe this.” Faythe’s mind was whirling. “I have to call Deanna. She needs to know you’re here. She’s been debating whether to call you back. I offered to let her use my aunt’s house, so nobody would spot you entering her cabin.”

“And now we’re here.” Pammie looked pale. “I never meant to put you on the spot like this. I had no idea you two were, eh, friends.”

“Well, we are, and one way or the other we need to resolve this. Deanna has suffered long enough, and from the looks of it, so have you, Savannah. Or do you prefer Nana?”

“Either is fine.” Nana shrugged. Suddenly she flinched, looking shell-shocked while staring at something behind Faythe.

“What the hell’s going on here?” a stark voice demanded from the doorway. “So these are your friends?” Deanna stalked up to them and stared back and forth between Faythe and Savannah.

“Deanna—” Faythe began.

“Let me see. What possibilities are there here for you as an author? I can imagine you’re getting quite the background to your story. Or were you convinced I was a coward, unable to make up my mind about whether to call her?”

“Of course not! I’d never barge in like that. This isn’t for a story. I had no idea Pammie’s friend was Savannah Mueller. I only found out a moment ago. She—”

“Oh, please, Faythe. You’re a famous TV reporter looking for a new gig. I dropped a juicy story right in your lap, and you figured it was just the right size for you to dig your perfect little teeth into.”