Flesh and Bone Read online

  Melanie studied her for a moment and nodded.

  Gina opened the door and followed Melanie inside, hurriedly snatching up lingering water glasses and mail.

  “I love your place,” Melanie said, heading into the living room where two reading lamps shone from opposite ends of the couch. “These bookshelves are amazing.” She ran her fingertips along the borders of the floor to ceiling shelves. “Did you have these put in?”

  “I built them.”

  “Amazing,” Melanie whispered.

  “Would you like to sit down?”

  Melanie walked to the sofa and held her hand out for Gina. There was a soft, inviting look in her eyes. “Sit with me,” she said.

  Gina sat and Melanie inched closer, laying her arm along the back of the couch. Her face was inches from Gina’s, a warm crackling in her eyes. Gina could almost hear them. Feel their heat.

  “We need to take care of you,” Melanie whispered, leaning in closer.

  Panic hammered with ferocity in Gina’s chest. She closed her eyes, trying to get control.

  She opened her eyes and Melanie pulled away.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No.” Gina said it as a whisper, her voice strained with desire. She stared into Melanie’s eyes and felt her cheeks heat and her eyelids grow heavy with the sheer beauty of her. It was almost too much to take. Melanie was almost too much to take.

  Melanie moved in again with a look of barely harbored hunger. Her knuckles brushed Gina’s face. Their lips connected. Melanie’s felt searing and pulpous and moist. So perfect and plump. Gina could taste her, smell her, breathe her in. She made her feel light-headed but hot weighted, like her head was floating above but her body was rooted to the couch.

  Melanie kissed her gently. Oh so gently. Her lips framed and tugged on Gina’s, her tongue carefully caressing, tickling, and tantalizing, very careful not to go inside where Gina was sore.

  Her affection was saturating, sating every open lonely cell in Gina’s body. Gina couldn’t help but moan and knot her fingers in her shirt. Melanie responded by sucking her, first the top lip, then the bottom. Gina leaned forward with every tug, but then she leaned back, liking the feel of her pulling on her, liking the feel of being captured between her lips. After a short while, they both became breathless. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?” Melanie asked.

  For the first time in years, Gina was lost for words.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long,” Melanie continued. “I should’ve asked you out, but the library is my job and I wasn’t sure if I should.” She touched Gina’s face again, whispered her thumb across her cheek. “I’ve listened to you every night you’ve read. For months. Sometimes I even hid in the back to listen and watch. And somewhere along the way…” She turned her head.

  Gina pictured her with the patrons. Touching their shoulders, holding their hands. Caresses so gentle, so kind, so caring that Gina seemed able to feel each one as if Melanie were touching her.

  Melanie’s cheeks plumed in dark pink patches. Gina touched them, felt the heat of what she was about to say.

  “Somewhere along the way…” Her eyes were full of fire and Gina could see the pulse jump in her neck. “I think I fell in love with you.”

  Something invisible jammed Gina back into the couch and held her there. The cushions encased her. The pressure was so great she could hardly breathe. Love. She said love.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t describe it any other way. And tonight, well, tonight made it clear to me.” Melanie watched her closely. Gina couldn’t speak. No words were coming. Her vocabulary locomotive had run off its tracks.

  “Do you think I’m crazy?”

  Gina managed to swallow, shaking her head.

  “No?” She exhaled against the delicate flesh of Gina’s palm. “Are you sure?” Gooseflesh came to life on Gina’s skin.

  “Yes,” Gina said. “I’m sure.”

  Melanie’s kisses collapsed over her breath, pressing into Gina’s hand. First with her lips and then with her hot tongue. She swirled it around and trailed up to Gina’s fingers. In between, up and down. The sensation bolted hard and fast between Gina’s legs. She pressed her thighs together and her toes curled.

  She tried to speak, but Melanie stopped her by placing a finger to her lips. She leaned in toward her ear and whispered, “I want to show you how I feel tonight.” The soft timbre of her voice trembled pleasure into Gina. Her body jerked, her senses intensifying every word.

  “Please let me. I don’t want you to do a thing. Just let me show you how I feel.”

  She kissed Gina’s face. Oh, so lightly. One kiss here, one kiss there. Her breath was warm, her kisses awakening her skin.

  “Can I?” Melanie said between each kiss. “Can I show you?”

  She pulled away to look into her eyes.

  Gina didn’t know what to say or what to do. All she knew was that she wanted this woman. She wanted to know her, hold her, feel her. Love her.

  Love.

  There was that word again. Am I in love? What does it mean to love? Why don’t I know? Such a simple word, used in many different forms. I should know, but I don’t.

  Melanie pressed another kiss to her lips. One that took her into an abyss of soft warmth with silk and satin all around her, caressing her, encasing her, threatening to take her away forever.

  She looked into her eyes again and they both were struggling for breath. Gina realized that her body felt electric and alive, every nerve tingling and aching for Melanie. Like a plug craving a power socket, Gina pressed her lips to hers and felt the surge of her energy.

  Gina’s brain and body screamed. Insisting.

  “Yes,” she managed in between kisses.

  They pulled apart and an amorous smile spread across Melanie’s face. She stood and held out her hand. She led Gina to her bedroom and flicked on the bedside light. Her eyes swept up and down her body, then Gina watched her hands as they began unbuttoning her blouse. Gina tried to help, but Melanie held her wrists and shook her head.

  “Let me,” she whispered.

  Inch by inch, Gina’s shirt was loosened and opened. Her heart ricocheted behind her ribs and her breath hitched when Melanie’s knuckles skimmed her flesh.

  Gina’s every cell was open and waiting. Craving her.

  Melanie pushed the blouse off her shoulders and sank her teeth into Gina’s neck. Her mouth burned and bit as she kissed and sucked, fastening herself to her. Oh God. The rush was bliss, the intensity weakening her knees. Melanie’s feeding frenzy found its way to her ear where she told Gina how wonderful she tasted, how she loved the feel of her skin yielding beneath her. Her fingers dragged down to Gina’s slacks where they unbuttoned and unzipped. As soon as the pants were open, her hand sank inside her panties where she stroked her.

  “Oh God, yes. You’re so wet, so very wet.” She bit her neck again, cooing to her. Her hand was nestled in her folds, moving up and down, encasing her clit with her silky desire.

  Gina couldn’t speak. All she could muster were strained moans of approval.

  “I’m so sorry,” Melanie said, “I just couldn’t wait. Oh God, you feel so good.”

  Threatening to collapse in ecstasy, Gina gripped her wrist and stilled her hand. Melanie seemed to understand.

  “Right, okay. The pants.” She tugged them down, along with her panties. Then her eyes took Gina in as she hurriedly tore herself from her own clothes. She stood before her, eyes ablaze, breathing rapidly, and Gina noticed that the pink splotches on her cheeks matched those that marked her chest. Melanie was aroused, her skin alive and vibrant.

  Gently, she eased Gina onto the bed. The pain from her tailbone slammed through her like vibrating symbols. Melanie cupped her face with her hands and kissed her tenderly.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Why don’t you lie on your stomach?”

  Gina hesitated, but Melanie’s eyes melted her resolve.

  “Go ahead,” she whi
spered, trailing her lips down to her neck.

  Her skin electrified, Gina turned and lay down, resting her cheek on her pillow. Her head sank lower and she could hear the racing of her pulse echo throughout the thick cotton.

  Melanie whispered to her again, but she was unable to hear. And then Gina felt her hands. Warm and firm, rubbing over her back. Then fingertips skimmed where the hands massaged, feather light and awakening from her shoulders to her backside. Gina quivered, each skin cell wanting to reach out and grab her hand.

  Melanie kept whispering, her words stroking Gina like her fingertips, in circles, large and small, long lines up and down her back. She traced and trailed, tickling and teasing. Gina felt her move, felt her fingertips flatten into palms. Then Gina felt the soft furnace of her mouth. Kissing, pressing, and releasing. First hot and wet and then vacant and cold as the night air assaulted where her mouth just left.

  Careful, slow, deliberate, Melanie followed the path of her hands, covering every inch. Gina’s body jerked and settled, jerked and settled. Gina clenched her pillow, cried out into its soft depths.

  Her mouth continued downward, lightly kissing her buttocks. Again she made the circles, this time with her tongue. Gina felt herself tense. Felt her fingertips run up and down her thighs. Melanie’s lips collapsed over her tongue and she kissed her, careful to avoid where she was most certainly going to bruise. The kisses were harder now with her tongue fully involved. Down she went. Over her buttocks to her thighs.

  Kisses. Hot kisses. Hard, pressing kisses.

  Swirling tongue kisses. All over her thighs.

  Her hands moved down farther, charting the way for her mouth. Down to the backs of her knees and beyond to her calves. Her mouth followed quickly, her desire no doubt growing. Gina could hear her moaning now. Hear the sharpness of her breathing.

  Gina jerked at the tickle of her attached to her inner thigh. Nearly came off the bed when she kissed the bend of her knee.

  Melanie laughed and nibbled on her. Ran her nails down the outsides of her legs.

  Then she stopped. Gina felt her move and her hand cupped her hip as she encouraged her to turn over. Gina found Melanie’s face more flushed than ever. Her breasts were rising and falling with her breathing. She kissed Gina’s lips only briefly and Gina was able to catch the baked coconut scent of her hair. It tickled her as she worked her way down once again, across the planes of her stomach, down to her pelvis where her tongue extended to trace around her trimmed hair. Gina’s mind panicked but her body surged with white-hot yearning. She told her to wait but her hips disagreed, lifting toward her mouth.

  “Let me,” she said. “Just let me.”

  Gina wasn’t nervous. No, that wasn’t the word. She was unsure. And she felt exposed.

  Oh God!

  Melanie was kissing her, skirting her hair. With every imprint of her lips, she shushed her, saying, “It’s okay. Let me love you.”

  Then Melanie nestled her body between her legs and spread her open with her palms. Gina lifted her head to look at her, to tell her to wait once again. But she was already at her, tongue licking up her thigh to her center. Her thumbs moved from her thighs to her lips, where they spread her open further, dipped into her arousal, and then rubbed her clit.

  “Oh God,” Gina breathed. “Oh God.”

  Melanie grinned at her and then pressed her face to her center. Gina felt her tongue rim her entrance and then felt it shoot inside her, pushing and thrusting. She squeezed the bed covers and slammed her head into the pillow. Melanie’s thumbs continued, playing her clit like a well-tuned guitar. Both sides, on the top, inward and outward, up and down.

  Oh God. Oh God.

  And her tongue, swirling, pushing, in and out and all over again.

  She’s…she’s…oh God, she’s fucking me with her tongue.

  Gina couldn’t think. It felt so good. It felt so good. She couldn’t get past that. Couldn’t get past how good it felt.

  “Please,” Gina managed, once again lifting her head.

  Melanie stopped and met her gaze. “Please what?”

  Breathing heavily, Gina fell back into the pillow.

  Melanie was still watching her. Gina could feel it.

  “Please don’t stop?”

  Her thumbs started again. Playing her magic core.

  Gina jerked and groaned.

  “Okay, I won’t stop.”

  Gina looked at her and watched as she went back down.

  Melanie’s tongue shot into her and her thumbs quickened.

  Gina’s back arched and her groans turned to deep, throaty cries.

  She closed her eyes and felt her body start to float. She opened them and stared at the ceiling. Yes, yes, I am floating. The ceiling focused and unfocused. It grew closer and closer.

  Gina’s body was humming. Existing on a plane she never could’ve imagined.

  She felt herself thrusting into Melanie, her fingers tangled in her hair. She didn’t know how or for how long. Reality was gone, lost in a haze of humming pleasure.

  The ceiling loomed closer.

  Closer.

  Closer.

  And then Melanie said it. Said it so quickly Gina thought she imagined it.

  She said, “Love.”

  Just “Love.”

  And then it happened.

  Gina reached the ceiling and it imploded.

  Into the most brilliant of bright lights.

  Electric reds and blues and purples and yellows.

  All of them representing raw pleasure, raw pleasure humming and swirling into one another.

  She clung to her head and watched the colors come down and consume her.

  Pleasure, pleasure, oh God, pleasure.

  Gina opened up, took hold of it, squeezed it, and never wanted to let it go.

  She held it and held it.

  Held her.

  Felt her body vibrate and flex and vibrate and flex.

  And then Melanie’s head lifted and she looked at her.

  Gina could hardly catch her breath. Melanie was flushed in different shades of pink. Her lips were full and darkened.

  “I love you, Gina. I can’t help myself. And I…” She looked down to her thumbs. “I love this.” She dipped them once again into her arousal and pushed them into the sides of her clit. She began to massage again. “I love giving you pleasure. Watching it overcome you. I love it. I love it all.”

  Gina’s hips bucked.

  Oh God. It was starting again.

  “Oh, yes, Gina. Take it. Take me. Let me love you.”

  She was playing her, all so perfectly. The rhythm of her touch was dangerous. So good and so dangerous.

  And as the colors on the ceiling called out to Gina once again, all the words she’d ever read on love made sense. And yet they didn’t come close to describing the magnitude of her feelings.

  Love, love, oh God, I desperately need words to explain it…

  She cried out. Cried out so loud her voice weakened and caved.

  The colors swirled, her body burned, her nerve centers took took took.

  Her heart rejoiced.

  All of it happened and happened together. It lasted, a glowing ball of mingling energy, it lasted for a very long time.

  And Gina looked at her after she stilled.

  Her eyes. Her pink flushed skin. The sweat along the dips of her collarbone.

  A tear welled and fell down Gina’s cheek. She smiled but hitched with a cry.

  “I love you,” Melanie said, coming forward to brush at her cheek.

  And suddenly, the words came to Gina. Love could not be controlled or contained. Could not be truly taught or truly explained. It was the great mystery of life, the great necessity, the greatly desired, the grand ride along the way. There were no answers, no words to encapsulate it. It just…simply was.

  Gina nodded and reach for her hand. She held it to her heart and said only what she was able to say and what she’d never thought she’d ever have reason to say.

>   She said, “I love you.”

  E is for Erotic

  The sun is sick with gray, the sky a hazy pewter screen. Around her the street drones to the rhythm of the passersby. People talking, walking, hurrying, cursing the downpour. Cars swishing, horns honking, wipers whining, whipping across pelted windshields.

  Her thick, white high heels join in, click dully on the wet pavement, weaving expertly between people and puddles. The air is heavy with chill and she breathes it in deeply, welcoming the taste and feel of the cold rain. It’s fitting, yet invigorating.

  Heart and feet beating with a purpose, she sinks her hands into the deep pockets of her large raincoat, searching for her music. Finding a tiny earphone, she presses it into place and pushes Play from her pocket, leaving the iPod safely inside.

  Her eyes drift close momentarily as the drums, violins, and harp all start up, setting her mind into the mode of her purpose.

  She opens her eyes and focuses on the tall building not far ahead. She counts the floors downward from the top. Julia is on the sixty-fourth.

  Eyes trained on the building, she hurries, anxious and excited. There is something she must do on this cold, rainy Wednesday. Something that cannot wait any longer.

  Her heels click on, carrying her on the wings of the beautiful Celtic music. When she reaches the building, she stops in front of the large doors and looks up into the falling rain. She takes in the sharply vertical skyscraper and closes her eyes. The raindrops melt into her skin and run icy fingers through her scalp, grounding her with the chill, soaring her with the thrill.

  Yes. It’s all making sense. It’s good she’s here.

  She pulls out the earpiece and embraces the static hum of the world around her. The doorman calls to her, people sidestep her, “excuse me, lookout, pardon me,” all of them a weaving snake of bobbing black umbrellas. Rain thumping down on it all, whispering in her ear.

  Julia.

  Growing a little dizzy, she steps inside the building, making her way immediately to the elevators. Yellow tent signs warn CAUTION WET FLOOR. And the large lobby smells of damp polyester and dirty streets from the hundreds of pairs of wet shoeprints.