that moment held Jill suspended in time, stealing the breath from her, stealing the light
from her eyes. That tiny moment seemed to last an eternity before releasing her, her
breath expelled from deep in her gut, her body nearly convulsing as her orgasm echoed
through her, touching her very soul.
When she thought she had nothing left to give, Carrie grasped her hips hard, pulling her
forcibly back against her as Carrie sought her own release. Jill's fingers spread wide
against the shower wall, supporting herself as Carrie thrust against her one last time
before crying out Jill's name, then slumping heavily against her back as tremors shook her
body.
"Oh, good God," Carrie murmured. "That was fantastic."
Jill slowly turned around to face Carrie, gathering her close again. They stood there,
holding each other—recovering—long enough for the warm water to turn tepid. Only then
did they move, pulling apart slowly, hands still touching, still stroking. Carrie reached
around Jill to turn the water off then led Jill from the shower. They didn't bother with
towels as they walked into the bedroom.
Carrie eased Jill to the bed and knelt before her, her hands moving slowly up her legs to
her thighs, parting them. Jill watched, waiting, trembling the moment those hands spread
her thighs.
"I love you," Carrie whispered. She looked up quickly, meeting Jill's eyes, holding them. "I
love you."
The words echoed in Jill's brain as her eyes slid closed, Carrie's hot breath making it hard
to speak, to think. She gave up her attempt at both when Carrie's arms wrapped around
her legs, gathering her close, pulling her to her mouth. Jill's hands opened, her fingers
gripping the sheets, trying to hold on as Carrie's tongue entered her. She moaned loudly
when that same tongue circled her throbbing clit, teasing her nearly into oblivion until her
mouth closed over her, suckling her, driving her to the edge in a matter of seconds.
Her hips arched, bucking uncontrollably as Carrie held on, her mouth never leaving her.
Jill's scream came from deep in her throat, bursting out as she climaxed, and her legs
squeezed together, trapping Carrie's head between her thighs, holding her there until the
quaking in her limbs subsided.
She finally relaxed, lying limp on the bed. Her eyes flickered open, meeting Carrie's as she
still lay between her legs. She attempted a weak smile but gave up.
"I think you've killed me," she murmured as her eyes slid closed again. She heard Carrie
chuckle, felt her move up the bed beside her but she still couldn't move.
"Come here," Carrie whispered as she pulled the covers back. "We'll nap for a bit."
"I should say no," Jill protested, but she crawled under the covers nonetheless. "I don't
want to waste our time sleeping."
"Just for a little while," Carrie said, and she gathered her close, their naked bodies
meeting under the covers, legs entwining.
"I love being with you," Jill whispered against Carrie's neck, her mouth moving sensually
against her skin, her tongue coming out to tease before moving lower.
"I thought you were exhausted."
"Mmmm. Very," she said as her mouth continued its assault on Carrie's skin. When she
brushed against Carrie's breast she heard her sharp intake of breath and her mouth
closed around her nipple, her tongue twirling over the taut peak. She felt Carrie's hands
move across her back, felt a hand snake into her hair and hold her tight against her breast.
She looked up, finding Carrie watching her at her breast. Her heart swelled at the look in
Carrie's eyes—desire, love.
She lifted her head slightly, inches away from Carrie's breast. The rise and fall of Carrie's
chest brought her nipple close, then away. Jill's tongue came out, lightly touching, barely
caressing the peak. She heard Carrie moan, felt Carrie's fingers dig into her back. She
looked up again, Carrie's mouth was parted, her eyes dark, scarcely opened.
"I'm in love with you, Carrie," Jill whispered.
Carrie's eyes flickered open, a soft smile touching her mouth. Her hand moved through
Jill's hair, touching her face, caressing her lips.
"Make love to me," Carrie murmured. "Will you make love to me?"
"Always," she whispered before again capturing Carrie's nipple in her mouth.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Jill watched Craig move silently about the kitchen, intentionally bypassing the chicken and
mashed potatoes she'd picked up at the fast food place in favor of a cold turkey sandwich.
She sipped from her tea as he meticulously lathered each slice of bread with mayonnaise.
She took a deep breath, wondering if the silence was as uncomfortable to him as it was to
her.
"How was the tournament?" Jill finally asked.
He shrugged. "Okay."
She nodded and raised her eyebrows. "And did you win?"
His laugh was sarcastic. "Oh, Jill, stop pretending like you have an interest in our baseball
team."
She started to protest but thought better of it. There was no point in arguing the truth.
"Okay." She stood, tossing the rest of her tea down the sink and rinsing out her glass. "I'm
assuming your sandwich is not just an appetizer. If you don't want any of this chicken, I'll
put it up."
He laughed again. "Yeah, I know you went to a lot of trouble with dinner but this sandwich
is just fine."
She gripped the countertop hard then spun around. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Oh, now that's a silly question, Jill."
She shook her head. "What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to be a goddamned wife, that's what I want," he yelled. He tossed his uneaten
sandwich on the table and stormed from the room.
She leaned her head back, glancing to the ceiling with eyes closed, trying to hold on to just
a tiny portion of the euphoric feeling she'd left with from Carrie's. But being back home—
away from Carrie—it was hard to keep her spirit up, not when she was thrust smack into
the middle of her rapidly unraveling life.
She took a deep breath, following after Craig as he ran up the stairs. She found him coming
out of their bedroom with his pillow and a handful of clothes. She stopped, her eyes moving
from the clothes to his face, his eyes angry as he looked back at her.
"What's left, Jill?" He shrugged. "This is it, isn't it? Me moving out of your bed?" Again,
the sarcastic laugh. "We have a goddamned king-size bed and I haven't touched so much as
your big toe in months. I don't see the point anymore."
She supposed he thought she would argue, would beg him not to move into the spare room
but she looked at him with indifference. "As you wish," she said quietly.
He shook his head. "You're unbelievable. You can't even fight about it."
"Fight about what? You know how I feel. Do you think it suddenly changed overnight?"
He stared at her for a long moment. "What did you do today?"
"What do you mean?" she asked, hoping her face did not reveal the inner turmoil she was
feeling.
"You weren't home. What did you do all day?"
She didn't bother to ask how he knew this. Arlene had no doubt come by to check on her.
"I was out and about," she said with as much casualness as she could muster. "Had errands,
shopping."
His eyes narrowed. "You left before nine and didn't come home until after six," he stated,
his tone accusing.
But she squared her shoulders. "There's really no need to have Arlene spy on me, Craig.