JENNIE
..
My back was on fire. The smell of burned skin and hair wasn't potent enough to overpower the stench of fuel. The smoke was thick, like acrid fog bearing down on me. At least the heavy haze partially masked the visual devastation; mangled bodies, faces no longer recognizable.
"Miss! Miss! Stay where you are!"
A blanket shrouded my shoulders, and a hand smoothed down my back.
Crippling pain buckled my knees. Black spots swam in my vision, spreading until they blocked out the light.
"We've got another survivor in here!"
The black abyss welcomed me, luring me in with its freedom from agony.
I shot up with a gasp, half expecting to be back on the plane, still trying to escape. Pale morning light shone through the curtains. I was in my bed in Chicago.
"Bad dream?"
Jisoo startled me. She was lying on her back on Lisa's side of the bed.
"Sorry." She sat up. "How're you feeling?"
My back really did feel like it was on fire. I touched my shoulder and cringed. Plastic wrap. The previous evening came filtering through as the muddiness of nightmare-riddled sleep cleared. Lisa finished the outline. A woman who knew her more intimately than I liked showed up at the shop. When she sent me home I took painkillers. The strong ones prescribed after the accident, not Tylenol, as Lisa requested. I also took medication for the anxiety. Then I sought out Jisoo with a bottle of tequila. The end of the night was unclear.
"I feel waterlogged." My voice was raw, like I'd been screaming. I hoped I hadn't. "Did I have a lot of nightmares?"
Jisoo shrugged. "Mostly you were restless and you kept spooning with me."
"Why do I feel so . . . out of it? God, my back hurts."
"I'm going to go out on a limb and say your back hurts because of the gigantic tattoo. You're probably out of it because we smoked a little."
"I don't smoke."
"Not cigarettes."
"Oh. I don't smoke that, either." That explained why my throat felt raw.
"I'm sorry," Jisoo said. "I thought it would help relax you. It was stupid of me. Your gp girlfriend was pretty pissed about it."
"Lisa's not . . ." For a myriad of reasons, guilt the most predominant one, I hesitated to put a label on what we had. "Where is Lisa?"
"I sent her home."
"What? Why would you do that? Was she angry?" Everything in my head was scrambled.
"She wasn't angry, not at you, anyway. She wasn't very happy with me, though." Jisoo reached for the bottle of water on the nightstand and took a swig.
"What happened?"
"You don't remember?" She almost looked relieved.
A few disjointed memories from the previous evening began to solidify. I struggled to pull the snippets of conversation together, but they didn't make sense. In fact, I couldn't remember much, and Lisa's absence made me nervous. I remembered her stopping by and Jisoo arguing with her, over what I didn't know. I also recalled crying.
"Not a lot," I admitted. "Why? Should I be worried?"
Jisoo sighed. "Please don't be upset with me."
"That's not very reassuring."
"Lisa knows how many people you lost in the crash." Jisoo rushed the words, as if getting them out faster would make it easier to hear.
"What?" Panic constricted my throat.
"You have to understand, I assumed she knew. She just showed up here unannounced, like she owned the place, and I freaked out. I've seen her before at work, and she was with that guy who can't take a hint. Lisa said his name is Jackson?" Jisoo obviously didn't know Jackson worked across the street. She misread my shocked expression and hurried to explain further. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Well, it does, but not really. You were so upset last night when I came over. I hadn't seen you this week, and all of a sudden you have this huge tattoo, and then this tatted-up girl comes in like the dark knight of whatever. You got . . . emotional. Lisa stayed until you fell asleep."
That explained the waterlogged feeling. Losing it in front of Jisoo wasn't ideal, but I feared Lisa's reaction to such an outburst. I didn't want to come across as weak or unstable.
"She left after that?"
"Not quite. She had some questions."
"What kind of questions?" I asked, concerned about the answer.
"She wanted details. I told her when the accident happened."
So Lisa knew it wasn't quite a year yet. That wasn't too bad. "But you didn't tell her why I was on the plane?"
"I told her you were going to your best friend's wedding, but I didn't elaborate."
"You didn't say anything about Kai?"
"No."
"That's good." I exhaled a relieved breath.
"Jennie, sweetie, don't you think she should know?"
"I'll tell her eventually." But not until I absolutely had to. I didn't know how Lisa would deal with that kind of information or the fact that I'd kept it from her. I didn't want her to think I was using her as a rebound. It scared me how much I needed her now. I couldn't risk putting any distance between us. "You're sure she wasn't upset with me?"
"No." She shook her head vehemently. "She was beside herself when you broke down. She didn't want to leave, but I told her I would stay. I kind of threatened to castrate her."
"You did what?"
She waved her hand. "Figuratively speaking. Anyway, we reached an understanding, so as long as she holds up her end of the deal, she gets to keep her balls."
"I'd be interested to know what kind of deal you struck."
"Feel free to ask her," Jisoo said, her smile full of mischief. She grew serious. "You know, it might have helped if I'd known you were sleeping with the girl. I have some thoughts on that, but I'm not going to share them with you right now, since you look like you might beat me with that pillow."
I tossed aside the pillow. "I never said I was sleeping with her."
Jisoo arched an eyebrow. "You didn't have to. It was written all over Lisa's face. That, and she told me she was staying here every night. I assume you're not making her sleep on the couch."
I laughed. I would have to be certifiable to relegate Lisa to the couch.
"I can see why you're into her. She's got that badass girl-pretty thing going on."
"I would advise you to keep that observation to yourself. Lisa's not a fan of the word pretty when it's applied to her, even if it's preceded by badass," I said, glad to move on to lighter topics.
"I bet."
We lay there until the pain in my back became too much. I shuffled to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. My skin felt tight, like a terrible sunburn. I took a regular painkiller and glanced at the anxiety meds. I couldn't take any if I wanted to function, and I needed a clear head when I talked to Lisa today.
Before Jisoo went home, she helped remove the plastic wrap. She was stunned by the intricacy of the design. I remembered little of what Lisa said about aftercare, but I did recall her chastising me over leaving the gauze on too long last time. The cool air functioned as both an irritant and a balm. Unable to bear the abrasiveness of fabric, I donned an apron to cover my chest and allow the tattoo to breathe.
Jisoo promised to come back with coffee, so I left my door unlocked. The only new messages on my phone were ones I was evading. Chan continued to call, and I continued to ignore him, hoping eventually he would get the message and leave me alone. So far it hadn't worked. I tried to work on my thesis, but I couldn't focus enough to accomplish anything. It was still too early to call Lisa, so I decided to bake.
I pulled out my mixer and assembled the ingredients. Baking was a passion I inherited from my mom. Most of the time it relaxed me, but today it made me miss her more than ever. When the cupcakes were in the oven, I started on the icing. I was almost done sifting sugar when Jisoo knocked on the door.
"Come on in." I turned the speed down on the mixer and sifted in a little more sugar to improve the consistency.
The door opened and closed.
"Holy fuck."
Lisa's deep voice was unexpected. Icing sugar puffed out of the bag, a fine dusting settling on the counter and my skin. I flipped off the mixer and turned to find Lisa staring at me, slack-jawed, a tray with three take-out coffees in her hand. She set it on the edge of the counter, her eyes never straying from my body. My outfit was ridiculous. To complement the apron, I wore a pair of black shorts that covered too little to be good for anything but sleeping. And I had on leg warmers, because I liked them and they were comfortable.
"I thought you were Jisoo," I said meekly.
I feared the conversation we needed to have. From Jisoo's perspective, she'd seemed more shocked by the revelation than upset. Or maybe she was wrong. With a glower, Lisa stalked across the kitchen to stand over me. I tilted my head back. She looked tired, but she was freshly showered, her hair still damp. She skimmed my arms with her fingertips, barely touching me, a juxtaposition to the hard line of her mouth. "You took the cellophane off."
"W-was I supposed to leave it on?" I stumbled over my response, taken off-guard. I'd expected immediate confrontation, not this.
"Did you do it by yourself?"
"Jisoo helped me."
"That's my job." Her lip twitched.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't let it happen again." I felt like we weren't talking about the tattoo anymore.
"About last night—" I started.
"I get why it was too hard to tell me. I don't like it, but I get it."
"I shouldn't have kept it from you." I shouldn't continue to keep things from her. And that was it, the horrible truth under it all. I couldn't tell her the most significant part of my loss. Because in owning it, I would be forced to look at what I was doing with Lisa, and why she felt so much more right than Kai ever had.
"About when the accident happened or who was on the plane with you?" She was close, but she made no move to touch me again.
"Both."
"No. You shouldn't have. But it doesn't change whether or not I'll finish the tattoo if that's what you're worried about." There was hurt lurking beneath her fierce front. As if she believed the tattoo was all that mattered to me. If only it had been that simple.
"That's not what I'm worried about." I ached to touch her, ached just as much for her touch.
"What is it then?" Like she sensed my need, her knuckle brushed down my cheek and she lifted my chin.
I shook my head, unable to express my fears.
"Jennie, talk to me."
"That woman at the shop—"
"Isn't important."
"But—"
"I wasn't lying when I said you were the only one. I don't want anyone else but you."
Lisa demanded, she cursed and she seduced, but she didn't plead. I sensed the weight of her fear in her tenderness. She was as afraid as I was to answer questions. As much as I wanted her to be right about what did and didn't matter, I knew differently. My past haunted my present and shaped my future. But for now, I would let it go because whatever her demons were, I didn't need them to haunt us both. Not yet.
I ran a hand up her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart. In some ways, Lisa was just as fragile as me. "In case you were wondering, you're the only one I want."
A slow grin formed, cocky with a hint of relief. "You look tired. Did you sleep okay last night?"
"Not really."
"Me neither. My bed felt empty."
She braced a hand on the counter behind me and dropped a lingering kiss on my lips. When she straightened, she snuck a finger under the strap around my neck, following it down to where it met the apron bodice. "I like this." It was blue with pink piping, covered in a cupcake print. Of course she liked it.
"What a surprise."
"Can you turn around for me?"
"Why?"
"I want to check my art."
"Oh." I turned away from the mischievous glint in her eye hoping she couldn't see my disappointment.
"What did you think I was going to do?" she asked. Her hands settled on my hips and moved lower, covering the scar on the outside of my thigh.
"I don't know." Get me naked and take me from behind. We hadn't done it that way yet.
"You don't know, or you don't want to say?"
When I stayed silent, she chuckled. "Please tell me you would never leave your apartment in these." Her finger glided along the hem of my shorts, grazing the curve of my backside.
"They cover all the important parts."
"Barely."
The ache between my thighs flared. "Don't tease," I whispered.
"Sorry." She withdrew just as she reached the place where her fingers would have been most welcome.
The strangest emotion welled inside me; beyond desire and fear, quiet rage filtered through. I didn't know what the impetus for it was. I only knew that if Lisa touched me the way I needed her to, it would go away.
"This looks good so far. Does it hurt much?" she asked as she traced the border of the design.
"I took something for it this morning," I said. Even with the painkiller it hurt a lot, more around the scarred areas.
"It needs to be washed. I should have done it last night. I can take care of it now," she said softly.
When I turned to face her, she looked repentant. I didn't know what for, but if she needed forgiveness, there were other ways she could achieve it. "I have something else I would rather you take care of first."
Her throat bobbed with a nervous swallow. "Such as?"
I palmed the back of her neck. She resisted, conflict heavy in the slant of her brow.
"Please?" All my uncertainties funneled into the singular desire for her.
She ducked her head, lips light on mine, still holding back. "You taste sweet."
She sucked on my bottom lip and cupped my cheek in her palm, her touch and her kiss gentle. I leaned into her, feeling the thick ridge of her erection against my stomach. She might not want to give in, but her body had other ideas. What I was about to do would make her crack.
"I made cupcakes." I reached blindly to the side and felt for the edge of the mixing bowl. "And icing. Want a taste?"
I swiped at the rim of the bowl, gathering icing on my index finger before holding it up in front of her. Her chest rose and fell, control slipping as she glared at me with something akin to helplessness. Resistance shattered, Lisa latched onto my wrist. My finger disappeared between her lips up to the second knuckle. I felt the press of teeth and the sweep of her tongue, followed by the hard metal of her tongue ring.
She released me with a loud, wet pop. "It's fucking amazing."
"You like it?" I asked, feeling an odd sense of pride.
"'Like' would be an understatement."
Lisa reached behind me, dipping into the mixing bowl. She pressed on my bottom lip, watching with fascinated desire as her thumb slipped inside my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the soft pad and the smooth bed of nail. When I cleaned off the icing, I gave her thumb a hard suck, followed by a soft bite.
"Yummy."
With an angry noise, she grabbed the back of my thighs and dropped me on the counter. Her tongue invaded my mouth, the kiss aggressive even as her hand moved lightly down the outside of my thigh. "You must know what you're doing to me," she said, her tone full of accusation.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. It was a terrible lie. I wanted her to come apart, to match me in my unquenchable need.
She snorted in disbelief and bit my lip, sending little jolts of pain laced with erotic pleasure through me.
Running my hands through her hair, I pulled her close and wrapped my legs around her waist. I didn't know what I thought was going to happen. She wouldn't let it go very far, no matter how hard I pushed; my back was too tender. But I needed her in a way that didn't make sense. It terrified me. I snaked a hand between our bodies to palm her erection anyway.
Lisa groaned, her fingers circling my wrist. "I can't let you do that."
It reminded me of the first time she kissed me. We'd been in this exact same position, but everything had changed since then. "Please don't shut me down," I begged.
She pulled away, her hands resting on my parted knees. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the humiliation. Her palms moved higher until her thumbs swept along the juncture of my thighs and then under the hem of my shorts.
"I can make you feel good." She pushed my legs wider apart. Her fingers slid under the fabric and her knuckle brushed my clit. "Is that what you need me to do?"
I whimpered.
She stilled. "Is it?"
"Yes." I held my breath, almost expecting her to withdraw with my admission. Lisa exhibited such staunch convictions that I never anticipated her actually giving in. I was sure there would be repercussions.
She kissed me again. It wasn't as hard this time, but it was equally possessive. "Tell me you need this. Tell me you need me."
"I need you." We were united in our craving for each other. Her desire was just as overwhelming as mine.
She made slow passes, barely grazing the sensitive skin as she watched her hand move under the cotton. She went lower, two fingers pushing inside, curling up and in, in a slow, even rhythm. Her free hand wrapped around my ponytail and she angled my head to the side so she could kiss me and still see what she was doing.
I put my hand over hers, wanting her to go deeper, harder. With every twist of her fingers she drove me closer to the edge. I arched into her touch and she palmed the back of my neck, keeping me close. I strained against her, my legs trembling, heat building and rising.
While it wasn't the same as having her inside me, it was enough. It wasn't just the physical gratification I wanted; it was the intimacy. I didn't know how else to have the closeness I so desperately longed for. I clung to her shoulders as sensation expanded to consume me. Clenching around her fingers, I moaned into her mouth.
"I love watching you come," she whispered, her kiss soft once again.
I mumbled incoherently and sagged against her, working to regain control of my limbs. I rested my head on her shoulder, wanting to maintain the connection for as long as possible. Even after the orgasm I still didn't feel sated. I needed more from her. The tattoo, while cathartic, as Lisa said it would be, also tore open barely healed wounds. I was looking for a way to soothe the endless ache in my chest. Up until now Lisa had filled the empty part of me, but in the wake of the outline, new holes had developed.
"Did I make it better?" Lisa asked quietly.
I nuzzled into her neck and nodded, wishing we could stay like this forever.
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