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Billie pulled Jules’s shirt right off over her head, practically choking her as she struggled out of it. But then Jules returned the favor, yanking Billie’s shirt up until she could see magnificent breasts encased in a black lace bra. She lost her breath all over again.
“This might not work out,” Jules panted, unable to take her eyes off Billie’s body.
“Many things don’t,” panted Billie right back, struggling with the button on Jules’s jeans.
“Or it might just work brilliantly,” Jules said and she didn’t know if that was a warning or a hope.
“Might do,” breathed Billie, finally succeeding in opening the button and moving down to the zip.
“You might hate me in the end.” Jules felt Billie’s hand pushing her jeans down.
“I might.” Billie bit her lip in frustration as Jules’s jeans reached her hips and refused to move further.
“Or you might fall in love with me,” offered Jules, bumping her own jeans over her hips to be helpful.
“Or I might strangle you before we’re even done here,” Billie said, breath catching as she pulled Jules in, as she felt soft skin against her own.
Jules groaned in wanting, her breasts bumping against Billie’s, her need rolling up in a ball in her stomach and trying to push its way out. She darted a glance at the closed front door. “Um, you know that your front door has a glass panel, right?” she said.
“Jesus Christ.” Billie picked Jules up and Jules squealed in delight as she was carried into the living room and rudely deposited on the rug by the coffee table. “Better?” Billie asked.
“Not yet,” said Jules, pulling Billie down until they were lying side by side. “For a start, you’ve got far too many clothes on.” She ran a hand over the smoothness of Billie’s stomach, over the curve of her waist, reaching the edge of her bra before hesitating.
“I’m not made of glass,” Billie said, hissing air over her teeth as Jules’s finger insinuated itself under the elastic of her bra.
“Didn’t think that you were,” Jules said, sliding her hand up and taking the bra with it until she was cupping a breast and feeling the hardness of a nipple against her palm.
She bent her head, slowly and softly kissing up the curve of Billie’s neck before she spoke again. “You are fragile though,” she whispered.
Billie murmured something in response that Jules didn’t catch as her other hand pressed against Billie’s hipbone.
“I won’t break you,” she breathed into Billie’s ear. “I swear I won’t.”
Billie gave a growl of frustration, pushing her hips up against Jules to signal what she wanted until Jules gave in, fumbling with the zip on Billie’s pants. Billie pushed her hands away, undressing herself in a half-second that felt like an eternity.
Jules grinned and rolled over until she was on top of Billie, looking down into an earnest face that was flushed and starting to bead a little with sweat. She felt fully in control and liked the feeling. Billie’s breasts pushed against her chest and she tweaked one nipple.
Billie’s eyes flashed open. “I swear to God, Julia Hawthorne, if you don’t fuck me now I’ll… I’ll never let you sit in front of a piano again.”
Jules smirked. “Really? Is that the best you can come up with?”
Billie’s eyes narrowed. “Fine. I’ll never let you touch me again.”
Jules shivered a little and then quickly wriggled down Billie’s body. She took a nipple into her mouth, sucking it hard until Billie groaned, then switching to the other side and doing exactly the same thing.
“Jules, you’re trying my patience,” Billie said, in an obvious attempt to keep her voice steady.
Jules said nothing as she slipped down between Billie’s legs, already parted, already waiting for her. Now was not the time for playing, not even for foreplaying. She could smell how turned on Billie was already, could sense that she was tense like a coiled spring, just waiting to be set free.
The skin on the inside of her thighs was soft as silk and Jules rubbed her cheek against it before nosing down into thick, wiry hair. She breathed in the musky scent of Billie before darting her tongue out quickly, licking against the swollen bump that was starting to peek out of the dark hair.
“Jesus,” hissed Billie.
Jules growled, pushing her face into Billie, letting go, taking no care at all just going with her body’s natural wants and rhythms, licking and lapping, sucking, pulling Billie’s legs up over her shoulders.
Several beautifully long minutes passed until Billie’s thighs were squeezing against Jules’s face, until Billie was yelping in delight and pressing herself against Jules’s tongue, until Billie was shaking and purring like a cat, gasping for air and then laughing as pulses of energy left her body.
“I’d say that went pretty well,” Jules said, leaning up on her elbows.
