Sleeping with the Frenemy (14 page)

Deborah lay on the couch, lightly petting Rotquel, who laid her head on the cushion next to her hip. Bridgette came around and sat on the coffee table in front of her, but she didn't acknowledge her.

“Deb, you've been lying here for hours, staring into space. You're starting to worry me.” Bridgette's finger brushed over her forehead and Deborah sighed, hiding her face into the pillow.

It still was so hard for her not to break down in tears, even a week after her mother's death. Most of the time she lay in bed staring out the window, or took naps. Bridgette had been a great support and spent most nights with her, making love late into the night and listening to her stories about her childhood.

She cried too many times to count as she told Bridgette about her marriage and the fear and confusion over the abuse she suffered. Bridgette held her, whispering soothing words in her ear and giving her kisses that ended up with them naked and making love. Not once did Bridgette recommend they use toys or any other instruments to heighten their experience together.

But the one kinky thing Deborah had enjoyed was tying Bridgette up. When she finally allowed Bridgette to do the same to her, she came so hard that she saw stars. And she never felt dirty or ashamed afterward.

Her lips tilted up as she remembered last night, when Bridgette made her climax by simply licking and sucking her breasts.

“I love when you smile,” Bridgette said and cupped her cheek.

Love.
What they had was too new and too soon for Deborah to feel that way about her wonderful, generous lover with the red corkscrew curls. But it was very close to it.

Deborah sniffed and sat up. Rotquel released a soft bark and left the room. “I haven't had much to smile about lately.”

“You did just now. What were you thinking?” Bridgette asked as she sat down next to her and twined their fingers together.

“You,” Deborah said honestly. “And how wonderful you make me feel.”

Bridgette squeezed her hand. “I hope when you think of me you smile, or at least you're turned on.” She gazed at Deborah's chest.

Deborah pressed the back of her head against the couch and weakly chuckled. She closed her eyes, still tired, wondering if Bridgette would take a nap with her, when something brushed her cheek. She opened her eyes. Bridgette held up a bright yellow paper.

“What's this?” Deborah grabbed it and scanned the page. The information listed was for a carnival starting tonight and into the weekend with rides, food, and crafts. She glanced back at Bridgette in confusion.

“We should go.”

Deborah put the flier on Bridgette's lap and rubbed her hands over her face. “I'm not really up to it—”

“It would be good for you to get out and have some mindless fun.” Bridgette dropped her hand down on Deborah's knee. “From what you told me about your mother, she'd want you to go out and celebrate your life and not sit around, upset and depressed about her death.”

Deborah should've felt some sort of anger over Bridgette's statement, but she didn't. She'd come to expect Bridgette's outspokenness. She was right. Her mother would want her to live for herself and not drown in unfortunate memories. “Okay. When do you want to go?”

“Yes!” Bridgette pumped her fist and gave Deborah a loud, smacking kiss. Deborah turned her face toward Bridgette's mouth, suddenly needing her lips against her own when Bridgette stood and clapped her hands together.

“How about tonight? It's only a fifteen-minute drive. It will be my treat.” Bridgette wagged her eyebrows. “This will be our first official date.”

Deborah stood and winced as her back stung from the way she'd been lying. “What does one wear to a carnival?”

“You've got to be kidding me. You've never been to one?” Bridgette shook her head in surprise.

“Never,” Deborah replied simply.

Taking hold of Deborah's hands, Bridgette gave her a happy smile. “I'm a carnival pro. I'll help you pick out what to wear.”

Deborah gave Bridgette a kiss on her open mouth. After a few brushes of her lips against hers, Deborah fingered her curls. “It's become a habit whenever you come up to my bedroom, we always end up naked together in my bed.”

Bridgette tugged her as she walked over to her front door. “I can't help it. It's a new quirk of mine.”

“Another one? The, ‘I can't keep my hands off Deborah whenever we're in her bedroom’ quirk?”

Bridgette opened her door and peeked over her shoulder at her. “How about every time I see you in your bedroom I can't help myself but want to love you?”

Deborah's stomach jumped.
Oh, wow.

“Let's get a move on. We have a busy night ahead of us. First we'll have a quickie, then shower, then go have some fun like a couple of teenagers,” Bridgette commanded, grabbing hold of Deborah's hand.

Deborah followed with a plan brewing in her head of having Bridgette wet and willing even before they made it up to her bedroom.

* * * *

“The lady is a winner!”

Bridgette loved the way Deborah covered her mouth and did a small hop as the man behind the booth handed her a plush green and purple butterfly.

“I can't believe I won. I've never won anything before,” Deborah said, holding her prize to her chest.

For the first time in days Deborah's eyes were full of life and the strain lines around her mouth had disappeared.

Bridgette thought she'd never looked as beautiful as she did at that exact moment. She almost blurted out her feelings for Deb, but instead pulled her in close and kissed her full on the lips.

Deborah gasped, and her hands flexed against her waist as she placed them there. Bridgette ended the kiss with a quick slide of her tongue inside Deborah's mouth: a promise of things to come, when they returned home.

When they finished their kiss, Deborah glanced around, dazed, as if she couldn't believe she'd kissed her in public. Bridgette put her hands in her denim shorts pockets and rocked back on her heels. No one around them gave disgruntled looks at their display of affection.

A flash of bright light went up in the sky and red and white sparks flew overhead. The crowd around them oohed and aahed. Deborah looked enthralled, and when she took Bridgette's hand without Bridgette being the first one to do so, Bridgette's chest tightened.

Thank God she trusts me now.

Bridgette watched Deborah's awestruck face as she viewed the fireworks. Before she could stare up at the display in the sky, she was jostled roughly from behind. Their hands broke apart and Bridgette turned to see who had rudely bumped into her.

“Sorry.” An older, severely dressed woman passed her, again pushing into her shoulder as she quickly rushed by.

Bridgette frowned and shook her head.

“What's wrong?” Deborah asked, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

“Nothing important.” Bridgette took hold of Deborah's hand again. “Hey, it's getting a bit too crowded and I think I've overdosed on enough funnel cake and frozen yogurt to last the summer. What do you say about going back home and relaxing?”

Deborah's lips twitched. “Want to relax in my bedroom with me?”

Bridgette laughed. “Didn't we do that already?”

“Let's do it again.” Deborah squeezed her hand.

“I'd rather relax with you in that big bathtub of yours.” Bridgette bumped her hip against Deborah's. “We can reenact one of the bathing scenes as Pauline and Juliet from
Heavenly Creatures
.”

“Heavenly what?” Deborah asked, wiggling her nose.

“Don't tell you haven't heard of
Heavenly Creatures
. That was one of the first movies Kate Winslet acted in.” Bridgette cocked her hip. “You do know who Kate Winslet is?”

Deborah rolled her eyes and jabbed her lightly with her elbow. “Yes. I know who she is.”

Bridgette linked her arm with Deborah's. “I'll give you the rundown of the movie on our drive back. I think Peter Jackson had a bathing fetish because of that movie.”

“Is he an actor in the movie?” Deborah asked.

“Oh Debs, you crack me up.” Bridgette chuckled, and as they reached her car, she backed Deborah against the passenger side door and ravished her mouth. Deborah moaned and joined in on the kiss, her hands going under Bridgette's top and caressing her back and lower until she cupped her ass cheeks. Surrounded by the bright lights of the carnival and the happy cries from the crowd, they made out, not caring if anyone came upon them and witnessed the affection for one another that had grown into something deeper and real.

* * * *

Deborah couldn't stop kissing Bridgette. It had to be the leftover sugar on Bridgette's lips from the funnel cake they shared earlier in the night. On the drive home they kissed at red lights and stop signs, finally parking in Bridgette's driveway, where they steamed up the windows, and not because of the humidity or the heat in the air. It was actually very pleasant, since the heat wave broke earlier in the week, and perfect for a bubble bath with the woman she couldn't get enough of.

“I have freesia-scented bubble bath and a bottle of champagne. Why don't you get the bath ready and I'll grab the bottle and be back before you know it?” Bridgette walked Deborah up to her front porch and they kissed some more. Deborah was ready to push her down in one of the rocking chairs in the corner and go down on her, but stopped herself.

“I'd like that,” Deborah said softly against Bridgette's cheek and gave her a hug. She hid her face in Bridgette's curls for a moment, inhaling her sweet floral scent.

“You left your butterfly in my car. I'll bring it over as well. It'll look right at home on your bed.” Bridgette winked and gave her another kiss.

Deborah finally released her and unlocked her door. “I'll keep the door unlocked. Hurry back.”

“You can bet on it. See you in a few minutes.” Bridgette winked and waved as she walked down the steps.

The screen door closed behind her and Deborah made certain the front door was slightly ajar for when Bridgette returned. Deborah hummed softly as she turned on a lamp to cast a soft glow in the living room, then ran up the steps to get ready for what would be an end to a wonderful night.

* * * *

Wearing her short pink pajama set, Deborah lit candles around the bathroom. She rubbed her hands together in excitement over sharing a bath with Bridgette. She'd never done such a thing with another woman and couldn't wait to make a new memory for herself that would have her smiling, not frowning. Pushing the door open to allow the breeze from the circular fan from her bedroom, she went over to her windows and opened them higher. The night was cool for mid-July, and the only sweat she and Bridgette would have on their skin would be from making passionate love together.

Deborah recognized Rotquel's barking from across the street. She viewed Bridgette's house, seeing the light on in the front of her house, as well as a light coming from inside. Soon Bridgette would be in her arms again, where she'd taste her lips and other luscious parts on her body that had her salivating.

Tapping her chin, she remembered the bottle of body lotion in the linen closet. Her nipples grew hard at the thought of giving Bridgette a nice intimate massage that would lead to a special type of happy ending for her.

Rotquel's barks trailed her as she walked out into the hallway
. She must be really excited to see Bridgette.
Shrugging, she went over to the closet just as the stairway down below went dark.

What the—
Deborah groaned. The light must have burned out. Not wanting Bridgette to stumble around in the dark, she made her way over to the landing.

Grumbling under her breath that there was no light switch to turn on and give her light, she carefully walked down the stairs, wishing the moon was brighter so she wouldn't trip and fall and break her—

Un dì, felice, eterea, Mi balenaste innante, E da quel dì tremante, Vissi d'ignoto amor…

Deborah held the wall for support. Her stomach rolled as the opera played softly from somewhere inside. There was no way that could be possible, since she didn't have a stereo or a radio in the house. She backed up one step when she noticed the front door was fully closed and a shadow of a person stood in front of it.

Nonononono!
Deborah whimpered, her heart beating rapidly in her chest as she swallowed and stepped down. If she went back upstairs, she wouldn't be able to escape.

As she grew accustomed to the darkness and moved around the banister, a cocking sound met her ears. “If you move one more inch, I'll shoot you in the leg. I can promise you it won't be pleasant.”

Deborah almost fell to the floor upon hearing the voice that had haunted her, and dug her fingers into the wooden banister. The opera continued to play softly, then went off with a click, only to be replaced by live singing in English.

“Since that moment I loved you, loved and adored from afar. Hoping for love, love that fills the universe, Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow, sorrow…” Genevieve's voice finished signing the melody and Deborah blinked from the small light that appeared in front of her.

Genevieve held a lighter under her chin, casting a ghostlike glow around her face. Deborah's hands shook as she wrapped her arms around her waist and silent shudders overtook her body.

“You found me.” Deborah mouthed and tears fell down her cheeks as she took a step back.

“Stop moving!” Genevieve screeched and moved forward, holding the gun in one hand while keeping the lighter on with the other.

Deborah halted and took in deep breaths to calm herself. The air was suddenly thick and fear clogged her throat. She backed up against the wall near the steps as Genevieve closed the lighter and turned the lamp on. When she faced her again, Deborah covered her mouth in utter shock.

Genevieve's hair was pulled back in a tight bun and colored with gray. She also wore glasses and a large flowered dress. Her face was covered in heavy makeup. Deborah's stomach cramped again as she came to the realization that Genevieve wore a disguise.

“You were the woman who bumped into Bridgette at the carnival,” Deborah said. When Bridgette had been jostled, she'd turned away from the fireworks display a moment and caught sight of a matronly woman wearing a garish dress passing them. The same dress Genevieve wore now.