Punk and Zen (33 page)

She gasped and bit my shoulder. “Shh,” I cautioned
with a little smile of my own, “you’re gonna have to be quiet.”

“I didn’t know,” she licked my throat, “you were such
a bitch.” She bit my neck—God, I loved that.

“Right now?” I said as I pressed against her solid
clit and did her pussy hard. “I’m your fuckin’ hero.”

She sucked on my skin in response and spread her legs
a bit on the bench. I pressed up, deeper inside her, and her hand came down on
mine. That move got me, got me so good it made me want to come again, and I
made no protest when her other hand moved into my pants again, then moved
around to my ass. When her fingers quietly made their way to my cunt, sliding
between the folds and tweaking my clit, my hips jerked in response, and she had
me where she wanted me.

“Oh, yeah, baby,” she hissed as her thumb slid inside
me.

“Kitt, are you insane?” I gasped with the rare
sensation—rare because I seldom had her inside me. It really wasn’t my thing.
Besides, at the moment, my mind was still aware that we had company, even
though my hands and cunt weren’t caring.

“It’s been three days,” she answered, leaning her head
back against the rear dash, “three whole fucking days.”

The reality of her words swelled in me as I leaned
down to kiss that irresistible mouth that sighed as we made up for lost time.

Come to think of it? I don’t remember paying for that
cab ride. I still don’t know how I feel about that.

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

Enjoy
The Silence

Woke up in the morning underneath the sunlight glare

You know I’d never ask you but I wonder if you care

It’s so hard to believe—and easy to deceive

Do you want me for me?

“Me for Me”—Life
Underwater

∗ ∗ ∗ ∗

Fran lay next to me on the bed, drawing lazy circles
on my chest with her fingertips as I held her close and kissed her ABC Page
164head.

“I asked Dee Dee if you could leave early,” she
confessed quietly as we enjoyed our closeness.

“Really? When? Why?”

“Yes, really, when you were in the basement playing
with the taps, and because I needed to spend some time with you,” she answered
in the order that I’d asked.

The gig was in a few days, and after that, I was taking
some time off from work—I’d planned to spend that time with her. If she’d
really needed something, I’d have absolutely made sure I was free and there for
her. Something must be wrong then, right?

“Kitt, love, is everything okay? I mean, why—”

“Shh…” she said and slid her body over mine, then
kissed me sensually. She touched my face, running her thumb into that spot on
my chin she loved so much as my hands skimmed along the smooth muscles of her
back, then caressed the span of her shoulders.

“I have to go away…” she sighed and murmured into my
throat. I lightly traced her arms as she snuggled on my shoulder. “I’m leaving
Friday afternoon.”

“That’s tomorrow,” I realized aloud. “So soon? Do you
have to go for a long time?” I didn’t ask her when or where. She had never
pressed me for anything, and I wouldn’t do it to her.

She propped her head on her hand. “Long enough that I
won’t be in town for your gig,” she answered, “and I really wanted to go.”

I leaned up to kiss her head and she sat up with me.
“I’ll miss you,” I said as I reached to play with her hair as it lay across her
shoulder. I caressed her neck as I pushed the long strands back. I would, too.

I might not have been ready to set up householding
with anyone yet—and I absolutely hated that oft-rumored lesbian tradition, you
know the one, how everyone moves in together on the second date? But I loved
her and wouldn’t dream of doing anything that would harm her or us.

Yeah, I might still flirt a bit, but that went with
the job territory. I might not have liked to deal with it, but it wasn’t just
my sparkling wit and conversation that made me money; it was my face, too—and I
was the lead guitarist in a band. However, in light of the intensity of what
Fran and I shared, I doubted I would ever sleep with anyone else. In fact, I
never even thought about it.

“I’ll miss you every day until you come back,” I told
her and kissed her cheek, then put my arms around her and she nestled into
them.

“Will you, really?” she asked, whispering into my
breast in a small voice, and I pressed my lips to her head again.

“Of course I will, Kitt. You’re my golden lion,” I
assured her in between kisses. “You’re the pride of my heart.”

At those words, she gazed up at me with such a
vulnerable expression that the emotions that rose in me threatened to make me
cry and forced me to wrap myself around her, holding her close, protecting her
innocence.

“I didn’t know that,” she said simply and kissed my
collarbone.

I rocked her closer, loving her, her body curled
within my embrace. “That’s a mistake on my part, then,” I murmured, “because
you should know.”

We sat that way for a while, skin to skin, while her
breath dusted over my breasts where she laid her head above them.

“I got you something,” she said finally into our
quiet, lifting her head and tossing it to shake her hair free.

“Yeah?” I asked lightly, loosening my hold. “For me?”

“Yeah,” she answered, a smile in her voice and on her
lips as she wiggled in my arms. She tweaked my chin. “For you.”

She straightened and jumped up, onto the floor, then
grinned. “What are you wearing for your show?”

“I haven’t thought about it, really. Why?” I
especially wasn’t thinking about it now and figured I’d wear some variation of
what I usually wore, maybe pay a little more attention to—what else—my hair.

“C’mon, get up,” she exhorted, clapping her hands
together briskly, “show me what you’ve got.”

I raised my eyebrows. “What, you haven’t seen enough
already?” I asked, but I complied, stretching my arms above my head and
enjoying the appreciation in her eyes.

“Shame to have to cover that.”

“Really?” I asked cheekily, then caressed her waist
and leaned in to kiss her neck. “I think you cover me quite well.”

“Mmm,” she responded as my lips caressed the column of
her neck, “I agree…but I meant with clothes.” She touched my arm and I raised
my eyes to hers.

“Does that mean you have something in mind?”

Her eyes widened. “What makes you say that?”

“Because you’re always taking my clothes off. Well,
that and,” I paused a moment for effect, “the fact that you never bring
anything up without a reason.”

“I do that?” she asked, laughing.

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Well, you happen to be right.” She smiled. “I do have
something in mind.”

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with my present, now
would it?” I grinned slyly.

“It might, it might,” she affirmed, nodding. Walking
over to her closet, she pulled out her bag, then opened it to remove a plastic
shopping bag that had been folded over.

She came back to me, took my hands, and held them
gently between us. “Close your eyes.”

“Closed,” I told her as I did so.

Her hands left mine cold as she rummaged through her
bag. Then I felt her warmth near again.

“Okay, lift,” she ordered, patting my right leg.

I did, and she slid something part of the way up. I
could feel it puddle around my foot—a texture, a scent I recognized, that made
my nostrils flare.

“Other one,” she asked, and I helped. When both legs
were on, she slid them up me and rested her hands on my waist.

“You did not,” I said, stunned by what I felt as I ran
my hands down my thighs.

“Did not what?” she asked innocently. “Oh, you can
open your eyes now, by the way.”

I did. And couldn’t breathe a moment as I looked down,
confirming what my senses had told me. “Holy shit!” I exclaimed softly when my
breath returned.

Soft black leather pants with a light sheen—and a
lace-up front. They fit me exactly like what they were—a second skin. “Man oh
man!” I said as I adjusted the laces. “And,” I took a step and grabbed my
boots, slipping them on, “straight cut! I love straight-cut pants!” I exclaimed
as I examined the fit and the perfect drape over my boots. I did and do love a
straight cut—makes my legs look even longer. Hey, just because I don’t think
I’m good-looking doesn’t mean I’m not aware that I’ve got nice ABC legs.

I looked up to see her watching me with the strangest
expression.

“I don’t know how I’m going to keep you…” she said
softly as she approached. “Christ, Nina, you
look
like a Razor.”

“Thank you, thankyouthankyou!” I enthused, grabbing
her in my arms and whirling her around until we were at the foot of the bed
where we fell onto it.

“You look
so
fuckin’ hot!” she told me as she
twined her arms around my neck.

“You shouldn’t have, you know,” I said as I brought my
lips to hers.

“What, and miss this? Not on your life.” She cupped my
face the way she always did, running her thumb over my chin. Her eyes glowed at
me, that melted caramel color that I could drown in. “This way, I’ll be with
you during your show,” she said softly, “before you go off and become the star
you’re gonna be.”

“Baby, that’s not—” I began, but stopped as her eyes
filled with tears. “Oh, baby, no, don’t cry,” I said, kissing her eyes, kissing
the tears. I scooped her up in my arms.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “I’m gonna be
wondering when you’re getting back so I can pick you up at the airport, and I’m
going to take a few days off so we can go and do something.”

She laughed softly through her tears. “Baby, don’t
write checks your reality can’t cash,” she said quietly, and kissed my chin.

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “This
is
my reality, I’m not going anywhere.” In many ways, I thought that was true. I
didn’t have that piece of paper so many of my peers had that proved I knew how
to at least read, didn’t have a “real” job; I didn’t have much except for the
untouchables—the love I felt for her and the music in my body.

She smiled at me and wiped her eyes. “Nina, you’re too
big for this place, and everybody knows it, everybody knows it but you,” she
said, and kissed me again.

I kicked my boots off and Fran wrapped her legs around
mine. We simply rested there together, my head under her chin as I lay on top
of her.

I don’t know how long we’d been there like that when
the phone rang. Since it did that so rarely, I answered it.

“’Lo.”

“Hullo!” cheered out at me. “Francesca?”

“It’s for you,” I told her. She took it from me, and I
carefully moved so I wouldn’t crush her. I lay at her side and got comfortable.

“This is Fran.” From the way her voice bounced back
from the phone, I could tell this would be one of those calls where everyone
could hear everything. I put a pillow over my head in an attempt to muffle the
sound.

“Hullo, Francesca!” the phone sang. I knew that voice,
knew that cheery accent.

“Good morning, Candace,” Fran answered formally. Her
body stiffened as she sat up. I pulled the pillow from my head and read the
rigid lines of her back. I pushed the pillow behind me and sat up too, wrapping
my legs around her and pulling her into me, making a cage of my body for her to
sink into, to take warmth from. I pulled the blanket up and tucked it around
her waist and mine, then leaned back, Fran in my arms. She twisted onto her
side and laid her head against my shoulder. I kissed her head.

I had no idea what the call was about, but I knew
everything was about to change—it wasn’t just the call, but her trip and my
gig. I suddenly got this sense that maybe, just maybe, this gig might be a
bigger deal than I thought it would be, than any of us, meaning Jerkster and
Stephie and I, thought it would be. Maybe not, though. Could be that sense was
just because it was a first with a date, a time, and an exclamation point, and
that alone made it important.

Still, and more important, we wouldn’t be together for
it, and I wanted to be as close to her for as long as possible before
everything went wherever it was going to go.

She glanced up at me with a grateful smile, and I
kissed her forehead. She sighed and snuggled back into me.

“To what do I owe this wake-up pleasure?” she asked
with wry politeness.

I could hear Candace’s little laugh that I remembered
so well.

“You know,” she began drolly, “if I didn’t know
better, I’d say that was my lovely lady Nina who answered your phone,
Francesca,” Candace teased, “but you know, I never could actually get her to
stay.”

Heat radiated from her body as she sat up, and when
she glanced at me again before turning away, I could see (and I admit, this
kinda thrilled me) the fire snap in her eyes.