The orgasm spiraled, taking her away from earth, sending her down the long funnel of ecstasy. Through it, she felt Ryan's contractions, too. They were sharing completion. Small pinpoints of pain where Ryan's nails dug into her flesh darted through the flood of orgasm she rode on. Her face was covered with cunt juices. They held onto each other, clasped together now as one.
As it ended, Dex heard Ryan's voice asking her to come back up on the pillow and lie next to her, close. Dex shook her head. She didn't want to move. With her eyes closed, she wanted to lie down at the foot of the bed and fall asleep there. Asleep by herself. Undisturbed by Ryan's presence.
Ryan reached down and began to tickle Dex behind the ear. She tugged at the earlobe, insisting that Dex give in to her demand for company.
Dex knew that when Ryan got a bee in her bonnet, she would never give up. There was no point in trying to argue.
She turned around and flung herself lengthwise beside Ryan. Dex lay with her back to the other woman. She pulled the pillow to her cheek and exhaled a long exhausted breath.
Ryan drew her forefinger down the naked length of Dex's spine.
"What in hell's the matter with you?" Ryan said without energy. "You're not the girl I used to know."
"I'm sleeping."
"No you're not," Ryan insisted. "You're lying there and thinking about something else. I can always tell when your mind is distracted."
"I'm sleeping," Dex repeated, her voice a mono tone.
"Well, then, what are you dreaming about?"
"Not dreaming."
Dex felt Ryan's body snuggling in closer and wondered how she was going to get rid of all the questions without having to go through the pain of an inquisition.
Ryan slipped her arms around Dex's waist. She kissed the back of her neck.
"Want me to order up some fried chicken?" she whispered.
It had been Dex's favorite dish, once upon a time. But too much repetition had taken out all the pleasure.
"Not hungry."
"But you are. I know you. You're always hungry after sex."
"Not this time."
"Then there's something the matter… which is what I was asking you in the first place."
Ryan's, self-satisfied tone would not quit. Dex groaned and reached around to slap Ryan's behind.
"You're not going to let me off the hook, are you?" Dex said, knowing that they were about to slide into the opening phase of their usual bickering.
Only this time, it was going to be different. Somehow, Ryan's prying would not be able to erase the image of Gena and Gena's devilishness. The intrigue of Gena was a strange potion.
Dex had never had this kind of card up her sleeve. Usually it was Ryan and another woman. Dex felt odd in the reversed role. She now wondered whether Ryan ever was as haunted by one of her tricks as she now was. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling to match her new found superiority.
Superiority, Dex wondered. Perhaps that was what it was. She finally had someone. She was no longer the pining wallflower. She was suddenly Ryan playing with her Dex. It was a heady idea. The only thing wrong with it was that she could never be sure whether what she felt was the same as what Ryan had felt. There was no indication that Ryan had ever been as involved with her one night stands as Dex now seemed to be.
A fresh wave of depression descended on her as she lay curled on the bed. She was not in a position of superiority, damn it; she had just been hooked by another line. She had simply traded one form of slavery for another. Her mind clung to the promises she felt inherent in Gena just as she had clung to her fantasies about Ryan.
Ryan said, "You look so damned distracted that I don't know what to make of you."
"All I wanted to do was go to sleep," Dex insisted. "It's late, for Chrissake. Aren't you tired? You haven't been to bed yet either. Or are you trying to prove to me that you're some kind of tireless Amazon."
Ryan shook her head, ignoring Dex's statement.
"Why don't you want to tell me what you're thinking?"
Ryan's voice was like a drill bit boring down deeper and deeper into Dex's brain. How long had they been going on like this? Had it really been years? Suddenly, Dex wondered at her own patience. That she'd had the strength to put up with Ryan's shenanigans all for the sake of so called love.
Ryan put the tip of her forefinger to Dex's mouth.
"I know what it is," Ryan blurted with exploding insight. "And don't try to deny it. You didn't have a one-night stand. You're having an affair with some woman and you think you're in love." She shook Dex firmly by both shoulders. "Isn't that it, Dex? Well, isn't it?"
Ryan had echoed the words inside Dex's brain. The tangible sound of them, like rain, brought relief from their internalized pressure.
Dex began to laugh. The sound rolled from her like thunder rumbling out of a cave. It sounded crazy to think of herself in love with a fool kid like Gena. The whole world was turning upside down. And yet, stupid as the idea might sound, it held some grain of truth. Maybe she didn't love Gena. Love wasn't the correct word for what she felt. On the other hand, there didn't seem to be any word made for the feelings that tumbled through her. Perhaps it was only desire, but desire of so large and insistent a nature as to be potentially dangerous.
Dex looked at Ryan and realized that the foundations of their home life were being threatened for the first time.
Ryan pushed away from the sound of Dex's searing laugh. A flush of anger mingled with fear distorted the beautiful mouth. Apparently, she, too, realized that something dangerous lurked in the corners of their lives. Whatever it was, it waited. Waited to surface and destroy.
"I don't want to stay alone with you anymore," Ryan said, wiggling out of her side of the bed. "You give me the creeps."
Dex didn't object. She lay back with her hands clasped behind her head and watched Ryan hurry into slacks and sweatshirt. The baggy clothing hid most of Ryan's glamour but could not touch her glowing beauty. If anything, the simple outfit emphasized her natural endowments and the grace of her long limbs. She was something to look, at. Something to want and to cherish.
Yet Dex felt herself numb to Ryan's charms. The habit of wanting Ryan, and of aching because Ryan was off with somebody else, had peeled off.
"Where are you going?" Dex said, trying to be civil.
"Oh, I don't know. Upstairs to Madge."
"Don't interrupt her," Dex said easily. "She's probably in bed with some pretty young boy. Why don't you try Robard?" Dex grinned. "He'd welcome you, you know."
Ryan glared at Dex for a fraction of a second. She bent over swiftly and picked up a sandal. With a flick of the wrist, she tossed it. But there was force behind the effort. The sandal whizzed in close beside Dex's head and missed hitting her only because Dex moved swiftly to one side.
"I could kill you," Ryan said hoarsely. "And I hate you, did you know that? I really hate you sometimes."
"What for?" Dex replied easily, putting the sandal on her stomach and playing with the buckle.
"For being such a vicious son of a bitch. Remember, I know where you were last night. And I'm going to find out who you met there if it's the last thing I do."
"Vicious? Bitchy? Come now, Ryan. You shouldn't talk about yourself in such unflattering terms, honey."
Ryan turned pale. She was not used to this kind of reaction in Dex. The words stung. Ryan knew she was spoiled and capricious. She knew she had always taken advantage of Dex's love for her. But there had always been some kind of a tacit pact in it all. Dex was the strong, abiding one. Ryan was the playgirl who always came back home to roost. Now it seemed that Dex was calling an end to their arrangement…