JENNIE
"Did you always know you wanted to take pictures for a living?"
"What? Where did that come from?" Lisa laughed, sitting back in her chair and looking at me over the rim of her coffee cup.
We were enjoying a lazy breakfast on my last day in Spain. Dark coffee, tiny little lemon cakes, freshly cut berries and cream, and a side of sunny coastline. Clad in Lisa's shirt and a smile, I was in heaven. Nerves seemed very far away this morning.
"I mean it," I insisted. "Did you always want to do this? You seem, well, you're very intense when you're working. You seem like you really love it."
"I do love it. I mean, it's a job so it has its tedious moments, but yeah, I love it. It wasn't something I always planned, though. In fact, there was a different plan altogether," she replied, a dark look passing over her face.
"What does that mean?"
"For a long time I planned on following my father into her business." She sighed, a rueful smile slipping into place.
My hand was in her before I even realized I'd offered it. She squeezed, and then took another sip of her coffee.
"Did you know Benjamin worked for my father?" she asked. "Dad hired him right out of school, mentored him, taught him everything. When Benjamin wanted to go out on her own, you'd think Dad would've been pissed, but he was so proud of him."
"He's the best." I grinned.
"Don't think I don't know about the crush you girls have on him. I'm aware." She gave me a stern look.
"I'd hope so. We're not exactly subtle in our admiration."
"Manoban Financial Services was getting big, really big, and Dad wanted me to come onboard as soon as I was done with college. I honestly never thought I'd leave Philadelphia. It would have been a great life: working with my dad, country club, big house in the 'burbs. Who wouldn't want that?"
"Well …" I murmured. It was an idyllic life, for sure, but I couldn't picture Lisa there.
"I worked on our high school newspaper, taking pictures. I took the class as an easy A. You know, good for my transcript? But even though I got assignments like covering the women's field hockey tryouts, I really liked it. Like, really liked it. I just figured it would always be a nice hobby. Never really thought about it as a career. My parents supported me, though, and my mom even got me a camera for Christmas that year—the year that... well …" she paused, clearing her throat a bit.
"Anyway, after everything happened with Mom and Dad, Benjamin came out to Philadelphia for the, um, for the funeral. He stayed for a while, got things in order, you know. He was the executor of my parents' will. And since he was living out on the West Coast, well, the idea of staying behind in Philadelphia didn't sound so great. So, long story short, Stanford accepted me, I started studying photojournalism, I got really lucky with some internships, and then right-place-right-time, and bam! That's how I got into this gig," she finished, dunking her cake and taking a bite.
"And you love it." I smiled.
"And I love it," she agreed.
"So what happened to your dad's company? Manoban Financial?" I asked, spooning up a bite of berries.
"Benjamin took over some of the clients for a while, and over time he quietly closed up shop. The assets were transferred to me, per the will, and he manages it for me."
"Assets?"
"Yep. Didn't I tell you that, Jennie? I'm loaded." She winced, looking out to sea.
"I knew there was a reason I was hanging out with you." I topped off her coffee.
"Seriously. Loaded."
"Okay, now you're just being an ass," I said, trying to lift the tension that had settled over the table.
"Well, people get weird about money. You never know," she said.
"When we get home you're buying our building and installing a hot tub on the landing, that's all," I joked, which earned me a small smile.
We sat and looked at each other, deep in our own thoughts. She'd done so much alone. No wonder she always seemed a little lost to me. Living out of a suitcase, not allowing herself to be tethered to anyone, no real sense of belonging—could it really be that simple? Wall banger had haremed because she couldn't stand to lose anyone else? Paging Dr. Freud…
Freudian or no, it made sense. She was attracted to me, had been attracted to me since the beginning. But what was different this time?
Clearly she'd been attracted to all the other women as well. Wow, no pressure at all …With a toss of my head, I tried to change the subject.
"I can't believe I'm leaving tomorrow. I feel like we just got here." I leaned forward on my elbows. She smiled, likely noticing my not-so-subtle way of changing the subject. But she seemed grateful.
"So stay. Stay with me. We can spend a few more days here, and then who knows? Where else do you want to go?"
"Pfft. You'll recall that I'm leaving before you because it's the only flight I could get. Besides, I have to be back at work, organized, and in the right time zone on Monday. You know how many jobs Jillian has lined up for me?"
"She'll understand. She's a sucker for a good romance. Come on. Stay with me. I'll stash you in the overhead bin for the flight home." Her eyes twinkled over her coffee mug.
"Overhead bin, my foot. And is this what this is? A romance? Shouldn't you be embracing me on the beach? And ripping my bodice?" I placed my bare legs in her lap, and she took full advantage of this, massaging between her warm hands.
"Lucky for you, I'm a bodice-ripper from way back. I could probably even throw together a pirate costume, if that's what you're into," she replied, the sapphires beginning to smoke.
"It has been quite a romantic tale, hasn't it? If someone would've told me this story, I doubt I'd have believed it," I mused, groaning as I finished my last bite.
"Why not? It's not that strange how we met, is it?"
"How many women do you know who would voluntarily go to Europe with someone who'd been banging the plaster right off her walls for weeks?"
"True, but you could also spin me as the one who played you all those great records through the wall, and the one who gave you, and I quote, 'the best meatbal ever'?"
"I suppose you did begin to wear me down with the Glen Miller. That got me." I sunk into my chair as her hands did delicious things to the bottoms of my socked feet. Socks I had also appropriated from her side of the room.
"I got you, huh?" she smirked, leaning closer.
"Oh, shut it, you." I pushed her face away, smiling big as I contemplated what she said. Did she have me? Yeah. She totally had me. And would have me, sometime later that night.
At that thought, a whoosh of nerves hit my tummy, and I felt my smile falter a bit. Nerves had set up shop big time, and no matter where Brain went, eventually Nerves invaded every thought, every idea I had about where the night would go. I was ready, Lord knows I was ready, but I was damn nervous. O would come back, right? I knew she would. Did I mention I was nervous?
"So, are you almost done with your work? Do you still have a lot to do tomorrow?" I asked, changing the subject once again. As was always the case when she talked about her work, Lisa's eyes lit up. She described the shots she still needed of the Roman-style aqueduct in town.
"I wish we had time to go scuba diving. I hate that we ran out of time." I frowned.
"Again, something that would be solved if you stayed here with me." She frowned back, making a big deal of mimicking my eyebrows.
"Again, some of us have nine-to-five jobs. I have to get home!"
"Home, right. You know there's gonna be a firing squad to face when we get home. Everyone is going to want to know what happened here between us," she said seriously.
"I know. We'll handle it." I cringed at the grilling I'd receive from the girls, to say nothing of Jillian. I wonder if a kitchen blowjob was what she had in mind when she said take care of her in Spain.
"We?"
"What? We what?" I asked.
"I could we with you." she smiled.
"Aren't we already we-ing?"
"Yeah, we're we-ing on vacation. It's quite a different thing to be we-ing back home, in the real world. I travel all the time, and that takes its toll on the we unit," she said, her brow knit together.
It took all my power, all of it, not to make a joke about the we(e) unit.
"Lisa, chill. I know you travel. I'm well aware. Keep bringing me pretty things from faraway places, and this girl has no problem with your we, okay?" I patted her hand.
"Pretty things I can do. Guaranteed."
"Speaking of, where are you off to next?"
"I'll be home for a few weeks, and then I'm headed down south for a bit."
"Down south? As in LA?"
"No, a bit more south."
"San Diego?"
"Souther."
"Stanford educated, right? Where are you going?"
"Promise you won't be mad?"
"Spit it out, Lisa."
"Peru. The Andes. More specifically, Machu Picchu."
"What? Oh, man, that's it. I officially hate you. I'll be in San Francisco, planning rich people's Christmas trees, and you get to go there?"
"I'll send you a postcard?" she looked like a kid trying to get out of trouble. "Besides, I don't know what you're so pissy about. You love your job, Jennie. Don't even try to tell me you don't."
"Yeah, I love my job, but right now I wish I was headed south." I huffed, snatching my feet away.
"Well, if you want to head south, I can think of something—"
I placed my hand in front of her mouth. "No way, buddy. I'm not machuuing your pichu now. Huh-uh," I stated firmly, not wavering one bit when she began pressing open mouth kisses against my palm. Not one little bit…
"Jennie," she whispered against my hand.
"Yes?"
"One day," she began, removing my hand and leaving tiny kisses up the inside of my arm. "One day…" Kiss. "I promise…" Kiss kiss. "To bring you…" Kiss. "And my woo…" Kiss kiss. "To Peru," she finished, now kneeling in front of me and dragging her mouth across my shoulder, peeling the fabric away to linger along my collarbone, her lips making me hot and shivery.
"You wanna woo me in Peru?" I asked, my voice high and stupid and not fooling her for a second. She knew exactly how she was affecting me.
"True." Her fingers tangled in my hair and brought my mouth to her. I tried for a second to come up with something that rhymed with true, but I gave up and kissed her back with all I had. And so, I let her make out with me on the terrace, overlooking the ocean. Which was…blue. Ahem.
All week long, we'd been seeing signs of a festival coming together around town. It started tonight, as if celebrating my departure, and we were headed out to dinner, to somewhere considerably more fancy than the places we'd been eating all week. I'd discovered Lisa and I were very similar in many of our tastes. I was all for getting dressed up from time to time, but I much preferred smaller, casual places, as did she. So tonight, getting dressed up and going out someplace a little fancy, and then maybe hitting the festival, had a special feel to it. I was definitely looking forward to this evening, in more ways than one.
They say when a soldier loses a leg in battle, sometimes, late at night, she can still feel twinges of that leg—phantom pain, they call it. I lost my O in battle, the battle of Kai Jongin—that machine-gun fucker—and I was still feeling the aftershocks. And by aftershocks I mean nothing at all.
But there was an end in sight. I'd been feeling twinges of the phantom O all week long, and I was very much looking forward to her return later this evening. The Return of the O. Of course I would see it as a title of some kind of action film in my head—but truly, if she was returning, I would capitalize anything. Any Thing.
Because tonight, sports fans, I was gonna get me some. Not to put too fine a point on it, I was ready for some serious Lisa Wang.
I ran my fingers through my hair once more, noticing how the strong sun had brought out the natural honey tones. I smoothed the front of my dress, white linen with a little swing to the skirt. I paired it with some turquoise jewelry I'd bought in town and little snakeskin sandals. I was the most dressed up I'd been all week, and—undercurrent of nerves aside—feeling pretty good. I took one last look at myself in the mirror, noticing that my cheeks were pretty pink, and I hadn't even added blush tonight.
I went to the kitchen to pour myself a quick glass of wine and wait for Lisa. As I poured the Cava, I saw her on the terrace, facing the ocean. I smirked when I saw she was wearing a white linen shirt. We'd be quite matchy-matchy tonight. Khakis completed her look, and she turned just as I was walking out to meet her. My heels clicked across the stone as I sipped my bubbly wine, and she leaned back on her arms across the wrought iron railing. As a photographer, she was innately aware of the kind of imagery she was creating, I felt certain. Anytime she leaned, she oozed sex. I just hoped I didn't fall in my heels…sex ooze could be slippery.
I offered my wine to her, and she let me bring the glass to her lips. Slowly, she sipped, her eyes on mine. When I removed the glass, she quickly wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to her, kissing me deeply, the taste of wine heavy on her tongue.
"You look…good," she breathed, pulling away from my lips to press her mouth against the skin just below my ear, her scruff tickling me in the most fantastic way.
"Good?" I asked, tilting my head back to encourage everything she was doing.
"Good. Good enough to eat," she whispered, grazing my neck with her teeth, just enough to make me aware of them.
"Wow," was all I could manage as I wrapped my arms around her neck and sank into her embrace.
The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow all around, making the terra cotta blaze red and orange, coating us in fire. My eyes were drawn to the cool blue of the sea crashing against the rocks below, the salt in the air actually present on my tongue. I clung to her, letting myself feel and experience everything. Her body, hard and warm against my own, the feel of her shaggy hair against my cheek, the heat of the railing against my hip, the rush of every cell in my body curling toward this person and the pleasure she would surely bring me.
"You ready?" she asked, her voice gruff in my ear.
"So ready," I moaned, my eyes rolling back in my head at the nearness of her, the feel of her.
And then Lisa took me to town.
After Lisa had driven me to the brink with her kissing on the terrace, she'd literally driven me to the brink. We were now at a restaurant overlooking the water, which was easy to do in a coastal town. But where the little hole-in-the-wall places we'd been frequenting this week had their cozy charm, this was a romantic restaurant with an emphasis on romance. Romance was served on a platter here. It was in the wine, the pictures on the walls, the floor beneath our feet, and in case you missed the romance, it was also being piped in through the air. If I squinted, I could see the word romance floating through the air on the sea breeze…I had to really squint, but it was there, I tell you.
Floor-to-ceiling window panels had been rolled back to let in the briny coastal air, and hundreds of tiny tealights sparkled in hurricane glasses.
Each table was dressed in white, with low tumblers spilling over with dahlia blooms in rich shades of crimson, pomegranate, and lusty fuchsia. Tiny white Christmas lights twisted into the wooden beams overhead cast a magical sepia tone over the entire scene. In this restaurant, there were no children, no tables of four or six. No, this restaurant was filled with lovers, old and new.
Now we sat, pressed closely together at an epic mahogany bar, slowly sipping wine and awaiting our own tiny table. Lisa's hand settled against the small of my back, claiming me quietly and succinctly.
The bartender placed a tray of oysters on the bar in front of us. Twisted and craggy, they glistened, with slices of lemon nestled here and there.
Lisa raised an eyebrow, and I nodded as she squeezed the lemon, her strong and elegant fingers making short, erotic work of the oysters. she pried one from its home and brought it to my mouth on a tiny fork.
"Open up, Nightie Girl," she instructed, and I surely did as I was told.
Cold, crisp, like a burst of seawater in my mouth, I moaned around the fork as she slipped the tines back out. She grasped her own oyster and tossed it back like a man, licking her lips as I watched this little bit of food pornography play out. She winked at me as I looked away, trying not to let on how desperately turned on I was. The entire day had been like one giant, controlled ball of sexual tension, a slow burn that was now igniting into a wildfire. She slurped two more in quick succession, and as I watched her tongue dart out to lick her lips, I felt the sudden urge to help her. With no shame or sense of social propriety, I closed the distance between us and kissed her, hard.
She grinned in surprise, but kissed me back with equal intensity. The sweetness and tenderness that had been marinating between us all week now quickly deteriorated into full-on touch-me-touch-me-now, and I was all for it. My entire body turned toward her, my legs nestling in between her as her fingers found my skin—the skin just above the hem of my dress. We were kissing, kissing all-out Holl ywood style. Slow, sloppy, wet, and wonderful. My head tilted so I could kiss her more deeply, my tongue sliding against her, leading and then letting her lead. She tasted like sweet and salt and lemons, and it was all I could do not to grab her by her pretty linen shirt and have my way with her on top of the bar—but in a very ladylike way, mind you.
I heard someone clearing their throat, and I opened my eyes to see my sexy sapphires, then an embarrassed host.
"Excuse me, señora, your table is ready?" he asked, carefully averting his eyes from our display in his very romantic, but still very public, restaurant.
I might have moaned a little as Lisa removed her hands from my legs and turned my chair so I could stand. Taking my hands and pulling me, she smirked as I wobbled on my feet a bit. She grinned at the bartender.
"Oysters, man, oysters." Lisa laughed a little as we shuffled off to our table. I was ready to let out an indignant huff until I saw her discreetly adjust herself. I was not the only one feeling the slow burn…
I stuffed my huff and smiled serenely, lowering my eyes just enough so she knew I knew. As we arrived at our table, Lisa pulled out my chair for me. As she scooted me in, I let my hand drift back just enough to accidentally-on-purpose graze her, feeling how worked up she was. I heard her hiss, and I smiled inwardly. Just as I went in for graze number two, she grasped my hand tightly in her own, pressing herself against me. My breath caught in my throat as I felt her harden further under our hands.
"Do I need to change your name to Naughty Girl?" she murmured, low and thick in my ear. I closed my eyes and tried to get control as she sat across from me, grinning in a devilish way. As our waiter busied herself around us, straightening the linens and presenting menus, I only had eyes for Lisa, cocksure and beautiful, across the table from me. This meal was going to take forever.
The meal did take forever, but as much as I was aching to get Lisa alone again, I also never wanted this night to end. We were served a beautiful pael a, coastal style with chunks of prawns and spiny lobster, chorizo, and peas. Made in the traditional way, almost impossible to recreate, the simple shallow dish it had been cooked in allowed the saffron rice on the bottom to become crunchy and nutty—delicious in every sense of the word. We'd finished a lovely bottle of rosé and were now lazily sipping tiny glasses of Ponche Cabal ero, a Spanish brandy with hints of orange and cinnamon.
The liquor was spicy as I rolled it around in my mouth. I was pleasantly warm and more pleasantly tipsy. Not drunk, just heady enough that I was hyperaware of my surroundings and found anything and everything sensual: the way the smooth brandy slipped down my throat, the feel of Lisa's leg against my own under the table, the way my body had begun to hum. The entire population, it seemed, was out and about tonight and in a celebratory mood for the festival kicking off in the center of town. The energy was raw and a little wild. I sat back in my chair, teasing Lisa with my big toe, a silly smile on my face as she stared at me hard.
"I ate your paella once," she said suddenly.
"Pardon me?" I sputtered, catching the drop of brandy on my lip before it rolled off onto my dress.
"In Tahoe, remember? You made us all paella."
"Right, right, I did. Not like we had tonight, but it was pretty good." I smiled, thinking of that night. "As I recall, we polished off quite a bit of wine as well."
"Yes, we ate paella and drank wine, got the others together, and then you kissed me."
"We did, and yes, I did." I blushed.
"And then I acted like an ass," she replied, her blush present now as well.
"You did," I agreed with a smile.
"You know why, right? I mean, you have to know that I, well, that I wanted you. You do know that, right?"
"It was pressed against my leg, Lisa. I was aware." I laughed, trying to play it off, but still thinking of how I'd felt when I ran away from her in that hot tub.
"Jennie, come on now," she chided, her eyes serious.
"Come on now, yourself. It really was pressed against my leg." I laughed again, a little weaker this time.
"That night? Jesus, it would have been so easy, you know? At that moment even I wasn't totally sure why I stopped us. I think I just knew that…"
"You knew that?" I prompted.
"I knew with you, it would be an all or nothing kind of thing."
"All?" I squeaked.
"All, Jennie. I need all of you. That night? Would have been great, but too soon." She leaned across the table and took my hand. "Now, we're here," she said, raising my hand to her mouth. She laid kisses across the back then opened my palm and pressed a wet kiss at its center. "Where I can take my time with you," she said, kissing my hand once more as I stared back at her.
"Lisa?"
"Yes?"
"I'm really glad we waited."
"Me too."
"But I really don't think I can wait any longer."
"Thank God." She smiled and signaled the waiter.
We laughed like teenagers as we paid the Bill and began our trek up the hill to the car. The festival was in full force now, and we passed through part of it on our way back. Lanterns lit up the sky overhead as a heavy drum beat pulsed, and we saw people dancing in the streets. That energy was back, that sense of abandon in the air, and the brandy and that very energy knocked Nerves back down, way down to my gut, where LC and Wang threatened to beat her within an inch of her life. LC and Wang, it sounded like a rap duo…
As we reached the car, I went to grab the door handle when I was whirled suddenly by a very intense Ms. Manoban. Her eyes burned into mine as she pressed me against the car, her hips strong and her hands frantic in my hair and on my skin. Her hand slid down my leg, grasping my thigh and hitching it around her hip as I moaned and groaned at the strength I was about to let run wild across my body and soul.
We laughed like teenagers as we paid the Bill and began our trek up the hill to the car. The festival was in full force now, and we passed through part of it on our way back. Lanterns lit up the sky overhead as a heavy drum beat pulsed, and we saw people dancing in the streets. That energy was back, that sense of abandon in the air, and the brandy and that very energy knocked Nerves back down, way down to my gut, where LC and Wang threatened to beat her within an inch of her life. LC and Wang, it sounded like a rap duo…
Even Heart seemed pleased, floating around above. She was still singing, but a song that was infinitely more dirty.