Passions Prologue
By Dana Keylits
Chapter Twenty-Two: Kicking it Down the Road
Day Twelve
There was a dynamic shift between us, subtle, maybe even fluid, but real, tangible. She could feel it. I could feel it. But, we both chose to ignore it, chose to kick it down the road, deal with it tomorrow, because today, tonight, we wanted to have fun.
She took me to a nightclub, a lesbian bar with a huge dance floor, live band, lots of intimate seating with rounded banquettes lining the walls, upholstered in dark green and black velvet. The lighting was dim, with lanterns in red and blue dotting the scattered tables, miniature white lights adorning the walls, reminding me of stars on a moonless night.
She took my hand in hers and led me through the sea of women, happy, dancing women from all walks of life, all shapes and sizes, ages and races, with seemingly not a care in the world, at least not on this night, not in this place.
We weaved our way to the far wall and slid into an empty booth. Bette inched dangerously close and my body immediately responded, a low vibration rippling through me. She smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, and I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes to take in the flavor of her. When I opened them again, she was smiling at me wickedly, and I smiled back, slipping my hand over her thigh, my fingertips tripping the hem of her short dress.
She was wearing a purple knee-length silk dress, cut low, enhancing her deliciously shaped cleavage. When she'd picked me up, my eyes couldn't help but wander, and she'd laughed saying we were bound to have a great time if that's how it was starting. I'd chosen a pair of black jeans, knee-high biker boots, and a wispy grey V-neck t-shirt. I didn't own much in the way of stylish clothing, opting for jeans and a sweatshirt most of the time, but I'd left my dorm room reasonably happy with how I looked. It was an outfit I'd seen Stephanie Frye wear in People magazine, and although she wore it better, it made me feel sexy.
"Dangerous, Kate," she purred, her eyes dark and playful.
I smiled.
"But, I like dangerous," she declared, leaning in to kiss me. Her lips were warm, her kiss easy, she tasted sweet like sugar and I whimpered helplessly as her tongue darted out to lave my bottom lip, a whisper of a touch, like an apparition, and it spilled into me, consuming me, charging me.
As though of their own accord, my fingers gently skirted beneath the hem of her dress, my nails scraping the smooth skin of her upper thigh, and I was immediately rewarded by the sudden gust of air that whooshed passed her lips and ghosted into my mouth. I smiled, my teeth skimming her lips, and she cocked her head, pulling away. She stared at me from beneath the dark fan of lashes that framed her eyes, and offered me a sideways grin.
"Kate, you're in a mood," she accused, wiping her bottom lip with the pad of her thumb. "Not that I mind."
I glanced around the room, absorbing the atmosphere of coupled women surrounding me. I shrugged. "Must be the environment," I replied. "Lends itself to a feeling of," I searched for the right word.
"Liberty," she finished for me.
"Exactly," I agreed, leaning in to kiss her again, the press of my lips against hers igniting a fire in my belly, like miniature fireworks, sharp and unexpected, every color and shape, expanding in deliciously pleasurable ways.
Bette ordered a bottle of wine and the server didn't even bother to ask for my I.D. I silently thanked Stephanie Frye and her sense of style for helping me appear older than my nineteen years. Or, perhaps it was the authority with which Bette had ordered the wine, as though to question my age would have been rude and unnecessary. Either way, the bottle arrived in a black wine bucket, and the server expertly uncorked it, poured a sample for Bette to sip and approve, which she did with a gentle nod of her head, and then filled our glasses.
"To liberty," Bette toasted, holding her glass high in the air.
We touched glasses, an audible ping rising in the air between us, then sipped, then smiled, then kissed.
And, then kissed some more.
On the dance floor, she held me close, her arm draped loosely around my waist, her fingers tapping against the small of my back, keeping tempo with the adagio music coming from the stage. We swayed together, breast to breast, hip to hip, her mouth like a feather against my cheek, her whispers carnal and dangerous, flirting with undeclared intentions, unspoken promises.
My heart raced as she led me across the dance floor, guiding me with the grace and rhythm of Astair, and I felt dizzy and chaotic, breathless, wet. And, she could tell, I knew this, judging from the way she held me, from the secrets she told me, the way her mouth ghosted my ear as dirty words tumbled from her lips, and I secretly thanked the universe that she was holding on to me, because I might otherwise have crumbled in a heap to the floor.
When the music ended, we parted, though barely, she had one hand skimming my backside, the other caressing my cheek, her eyes searching mine. Intense. Lusty. Hungry. My belly contracted under her stare, and I was suddenly nervous, as nervous as I had been the first time we'd been together, the first time her lips had met mine, the first time she'd touched me.
What was she seeking? Permission? Forgiveness?
Whatever it was, I would give it to her, freely, willingly, I would give it to her.
Back at our table, we could barely keep our hands from each other, and I savored the feel and warmth of her next to me, the pulsing of our bodies, the intensity of the need, the desire that swirled around us like a gentle cyclone. The wine helped. We finished the bottle, thought about ordering another, and then with a lilt of her eyebrow, a glint in her eye, Bette asked:
"Do you want to go back to my place?"
A/N: I think I'm allowing so much time between chapters because I know we're coming to a close, and I'm not emotionally prepared to break them up. But, if you read Passions Past, you know what's coming, and so, I guess, I have to go there, eh? Anyway, thank you to those of you who have stuck by this story. We are a small, but loyal group, and I truly appreciate all of you. Thank you so much!