The sun begins to filter through the blinds as Monica stirs. The first somber thought to pop into her waking mind is Alan. She opens her eyes slow, fills her lungs in a deep breath, bringing herself to her side, propping her head on her hand, and as quick as it came, the thought is replaced with the name of the woman who's sleeping beside her.
She smiles tenderly, feeling a tear develop in the corner of her eye.
The room has taken on a guiltless ambiance in the light of morning. The scent of sex that lingered so heavy before, has quelled to damp grass and flowers from the courtyard. The candle has melted into a smooth hard puddle on the nightstand, its wick, soot colored and flameless. The ceiling seems higher, the furniture less sharp. Antique white curtains move subtle, and loose, like gossamer wings from a fairytale.
The woman next to her is softer by all definition. She even seems more diminutive then Monica recalls. There are no secrets anymore, no unspoken wishes hidden behind battle axe boardroom doors. There was a femininity here that had not been so easily seen before.
Tracy is on her belly, hair tousled, blanket just barely covering her supple backside. The sound of contentment is prevalent in each breath. Her arms tucked under pillow, her one leg bent at the knee, foot hanging lazily off the side of the bed. She is the breathtaking image of comfort and satisfaction. The curve of her spine tells the story of Monica's excitement. The marks from clutching nails are red and deeper then Monica realized. Butterflies dance in Monica's tummy
Monica smiles as the evening before replays in her mind. She leans over and kisses a warm shoulder blade, while gently tracing between the scratches. Tracy hums, and turns her head to face the barer of the affection before stretching every delightfully rested muscle and rolling over. She winces slightly when the small of her back touches the cool sheets.
"Holy cow Monica" Tracy quips, reaching behind herself, feeling the welts.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd almost think you sharpened your nails just for me" she winks devilishly
My god she is gorgeous, Monica thinks to herself. Tracy just exudes a sleepy, casual, confidence, propped up on her forearms, and elbows; bare breasts, one knee up, toes pointed, the blanket corner just covering the sacred place between her legs. She closes her eyes, letting her head drop back, hair falling away from her face. She inhales through her nose, letting a relaxed sigh out through her parted lips. Monica feels her pulse quicken
Monica reaches out and touches Tracy's stomach, first with only fingertips, Tracy, head still back, eyes closed, smiling, is warmly delighted by this.
A strange beautiful relief surrounded her with this simple gesture. She was prepared on some level for Monica to awake a very different person. Scared, regretful, confused, or distant were all possibilities. In that vein of thought, she realizes, she could have easily woken up alone.
Oh how far the horizons seem to suddenly stretch. Tracy lets the warmth of Monica's touch radiate through her every cell.
She lays her hand flat, spreading her fingers open, then gently arcing fingertips, so only her palm and the tips of her nails scratch lightly above her bellybutton. Tracy's muscles reflexively respond with a tightening of her stomach. She emits a naughty chuckle.
"Careful with those" she snickers, maintaining her pose. Monica moves her hand up, tracing taught skin, but this time leaving no marks. The sensation is delicious, as it wakes every inch of flesh it passes.
"Um, Monica, I think you're headed in the wrong direction?" she states playfully
Monica obliges with a smile, and delightful u-turn, back past navel, just under the edge of the blanket, to find Tracy's soft hair. Tracy responds with just the slightest shift of her leg, to allow Monica access.
Monica comes in closer; Tracy turns her head for a slow, deep kiss that is as new, and earthshaking as their first. Monica's hand plays warm skin beneath the cover.
Tracy touches Monica's face, letting this sleepy yummy feeling envelope her senses. She lies back, and Monica follows, Tracy wraps sincere arms around the new keeper of her heart. No games, no roles to be assumed, this was mutual trust, respectful, and honest.
Not so long ago, these were two women with the forces of love and anger, frustration and loss, pulling them apart individually. They began a slow smoldering demolition of the barriers between them, knowing they were clawing at false facades, clearing clutter from the cracks of many years gone by, and giving perspective back to prideful places.
Not a word to be said, it had all been spoken, and nothing was guarded, presumed, or denied. Hands played skin with gentle mastery. They breathed for one another, tasted tears for what was lost, shared lingered stares for what was found. They quelled decade's long thirst with each others very essence that seeped hot and sweet from desires revered well.
Hunger was redefined, but would never be sated. Monica memorized curves with promises to revisit, and Tracy claimed secret pleasures no one dared before. Two newborn souls melted into one another as seamlessly as intertwined fingers. And when the shudders of climax ceased, the heartbeats blended into one, and the last tears of the day fell away, they slept again.
Tracy's body was a haven of comfort, cradling Monica's head; blonde locks weaved through caring fingers as she lay upon gently rising and falling chest. Monica literally became the soft blanket that covered her.
Monica is the first to stir when the sound of wheels on blacktop crept into the room, with rude realism.
She slips off of the woman who has held her unmoving for the past 4 hours, gathers a loose sheet around herself, and goes to the window which faces the main house.
Parting the curtains with a lump in her throat, she sees driver open the rear door to the Bentley to allow Edward his exit. Ned's car pulls behind, Dillon on the passenger side.
"Tracy" Whispers Monica, eyes fixed on the family convening at this house that was empty just the night before.
Before she can turn towards the bed, Tracy is already beside her, arm around her waist.
"I know" she replies, kissing Monica's cheek, and exiting briefly, to return with her robe, and Monica's pajamas.