My hands clench into fists, needing to grab onto something—for balance, strength, the sheer desire to claim someone else’s flesh for a while. With one hand, I stroke Lina’s round, muscular shoulder, squeezing the firm skin hard, then running my hand across her chest. There the skin is slightly raised, my fingers unconsciously tracing the scar of a design inked into her skin.
Ohgod, she’s got chest tattoos? I practically purr as she moans into my swollen clit. With my other hand, I find Harlow behind me and slidemy finger along her wet split, already spread wide in her kneeling position. Her clit responds to me first, tensing before her mouth whispersyes, yes, yesagainst my neck. She writhes against my back as I stroke her rhythmically in the way I know she likes, and this is intimacy, itis. It fills me to the brim with heat and longing and joy, realjoy, when she comes wildly against me.
“I’m about to fuck you senseless,” she rasps into my ear before standing. “I’ll be back—getting my favorite dick.”
I hear Harlow scamper out of the room, leaving Lina and me alone. For an instant, I hesitate—are we supposed to wait for her? The disappointing thought disappears, though, when Lina takes my entire clit into her mouth andsucks. It’s such a punch of pleasure, I fall forward, into her, between her legs, greedy to have her all to myself. I’m so used to my blindfold now, so aware ofher, I yank off what feels like cotton boxer briefs without any trouble at all. She lifts her ass, helping me along, and I catch the first smell of her. I moan into her flesh as I lick, overwhelmed with the heat of this stranger whose touch ignites my every nerve ending. How can you know someone this intimately yet have no idea who they are?
Lina feels amazing, and I can’t help myself from exploring the hard planes of her stomach, the strong, thick thighs cradling my head. God, I’ve been an idiot avoiding butch women this long. It’s more than just looks, obviously—I can’t even see her. It’s the rough grip of her hands on my hips, guiding me with a confidence that tells me wewill getto where we’re going. If Harlow’s movements are teasing and lush, Lina’s are commanding: focused, deliberate, burning with want. My body melts against her. I wrap my hands beneath her, and her ass is perfect in my grasp. I squeeze it again and again as I lick her front to back, learning where she likes my touch, then punishing her for giving me that knowledge. The way shevibrates against me, this butch wants to be teased. She’s in charge, but longs to be undermined, so I toy with her, my tongue so close to the ache I’m building that she whimpers. My fingers scrabble around the curve of her ass until they reach her wet pussy, tugging, pulling her apart, forcing her to give all of herself to me. She can’t help but obey.
It sends herflyingover the edge. Lina’s tongue goes erratic against my clit as she comes apart beneath me, her groan ecstatic and furious.
She didn’t want to come first, and I am in trouble for it. I can tell by the renewed command she exerts on my hips, the frenzied determination with which she pins me down, making me squirm with want for her. Her strong hands put me exactly where she wants me, not playing now, and she attacks me with broad, fierce licks with the flat of her tongue and sharp, focused sucks, and then I am coming, too. Cominghard, relentlessly, grinding into her chin for relief. I cry into her, keening as each wave of electric pleasure travels from my epicenter in both directions, to the roots of my hair, the tips of my toes.
“Li-Lina!”
She laughs softly against me, her voice low and smug and husky. “It’s Laine, baby.”
Laine.Laine?
Ice-cold adrenaline shoots through my veins before my brain can pinpoint what’s freaking it out. So I didn’t get her name right, so I—
It’s Laine, baby.That voice plays again in my head, terrifyingly familiar. I gasp and roll off her, expecting the bed to catch me.
Instead, there’s a long fall to the wooden floor.
Oof!
I land on my naked ass, the cabin’s smooth, wooden floor spanking me hard like the gym coach’s paddle when he caught me skipping class with Rachel that time (corporal punishment in school persisted way toolong in Georgia). Rachel had texted her sister to pick us up, but we got caught before Charlaine rolled into the parking lot.
I rip off my blindfold, breathing too quickly.
Lina—no,Laine—sits up, and I watch with horror as the absolute sex-bomb that just fucked me better than I’ve ever been takes off her own blindfold. Her soft brown eyes rove over me, concerned. “Shit, are you okay?”
“Oh. My. God,” I hoarse out, then scoot backward on my sore ass.“Charlaine?!”
Charlaine Woods, Rachel’s big sister, my first crush, the First Lesbian I Ever Perceived for God’s sake, stares down at me, confused as hell. Her eyebrows furrow as she tilts her head. “Do I … know you?” Her lips quirk to the side. “I mean, from before just now when I made you scream the wrong name.” She reaches down from the bed, offering a hand to help me up. Pure boss energy rolls off her, and I want to hide under something.
I stare at her outstretched hand, my mouth slightly open, unable to think of what to say. I couldn’t talk in front of Charlaine when we were in high school, either. She reduced me to a pile of jittering nerve endings every time, but I’m an adult now, and that quiet, insecure Zoe is years behind me. Come on, brain.Think!
But then Harlow bursts into the room wearing the most impressive strap-on I’ve ever seen outside of a catalogue, and modern language is out of my reach.
“Hey,” Harlow exclaims, putting her hands on her hips. “You took your masks off!”
Maybe it’s being eye-level with a giant rainbow dick, but that shocks me out of my stupor. I scramble to my feet.
“What’s your name again?” Laine squints as she tries, and fails, to place my face.
I momentarily consider lying. Lying could work. Then Harlow’s dildo grazes my ass, and I remember she’s here, too.
Lying won’t work.
“Zoe. Rachel’s best friend growing up?” The words fall out in a jumble.
Laine’s frown grows. She doesn’t remember me at all? I know she pretended we didn’t exist, but I was at her house every weekend of my young life. Laine drags a hand through her doe-brown hair, shaved on both sides. The move highlights the lean line of muscles in her arm, and my belly flips involuntarily. But her face remains firmly confused.
A piece of young Zoe’s heart crumbles inside of me.
I run my hands down my face because I know the one thing that’ll make her remember in an instant, and I don’t want to own it. At all. “Rachel’s friend that went to prom with Chance. The one who—who went to the after party and drank too much?”
