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were lit and the second bed had been tidied of clothes and papers. "You--" Leah started, but Sophia cut her off by saying, "You came," and hugging her tightly. Leah dropped the bag and held Sophia close. "Ward suggested I'd be safer if I slept elsewhere." "Is he going to put toothpaste in your shampoo?" Leah drew back and frowned at Sophia. "Are you?" Sophia grinned. She backed away from Leah and went into the room. Leah closed the door and then followed Sophia. "How was the show?" A shadow crossed Sophia's face. "I don't want to talk about the show." "Okay. How'd you do all this?" She gestured to the room. "Oh, in the hour between waking up and going to work," Sophia said. "You're already a star," Leah said. "Now you just need New York." She put her hand on Sophia's neck, intending to pull her closer for a kiss. Sophia smiled and moved away. She sat on the edge of the bed, and asked Leah, "What are we doing?" "Do you mean, are we--" Leah felt awkward and out of place in the room, in the candlelight and Sophia looking sweet and erotic. Her knees went weak. She sat on the opposite bed, and finished her sentence, trying to be an adult, with Adam's condemnation in the back of her mind. "Are we going to have sex?" She wanted to touch Sophia so much she ached, and ached even more that she couldn't. Sophia nodded. "I really, really want to," Leah said. Sophia looked at the clock, seemingly for something to look at, and then her gaze flickered back to Leah's. "But?" "No buts," Leah said. She reached across the space and put her hand on Sophia's knee. The gesture was so bold she wanted to pull her hand back immediately, but she didn't, lingering instead, watching Sophia's face. "We close tomorrow," Sophia said. "Is that a but?" "No," Sophia said. She shook her head. "No, it's just--" She looked away again, and didn't look back. She hadn't reacted to Leah's hand. Leah tried to guess the ailment; bad show, bad day, an attraction to someone new, a realization that Sophia was straight and wanted children, wanted Ward, or just didn't want a one-night stand. Or maybe she did, and Leah was looking at her wrong. Leah gave up guessing, and moved to Sophia's bed, and put her arms around her. Sophia sank back into her embrace. Leah forgot her list of insecurities as she kissed Sophia's hair. Sophia exhaled, a sound of release, and became limp in Leah's arms. Leah kissed Sophia's head, just above her ear, and decided, "Sometimes it's nice just to be," and said it out loud, sliding her hands down Sophia's arms. Sophia turned in her arms, putting her hand on Leah's side. Leah shuddered as Sophia's hand dragged across her. Her stomach fluttered. Her skin flushed. Sophia smiled shyly at her and said, "Be in the moment?" "Yeah," Leah said. She kissed Sophia, and it was Sophia who continued the pressure against her mouth, as Leah fell back onto the bed. Sophia kept their mouths together, slack and warm. She stroked Leah's waist. Leah raised her knee between Sophia's legs, to trap her, and the resulting sigh against her lips, seeming to come from Sophia's whole body. Need surged through her, demanding more, and she worked her hands down Sophia's back as they kissed. Sophia laughed against her mouth, and pulled back to smile down at Leah. "I guess we are," Sophia said. Leah lifted her head to kiss Sophia, but Sophia leaned back further, and waited until Leah put her head back down, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. Leah wrinkled her nose. Sophia kissed each eyebrow. Leah worked her hands under the hem of Sophia's shirt. Sophia arched when Leah touched her bare stomach. She kissed Leah's mouth, offering her tongue, rubbing herself across Leah's hands. Leah sucked on her tongue, and closed her eyes to the kiss, giving into the sensation of Sophia's skin, the weight of Sophia's breasts against hers, the way Sophia was starting to grind her hips against Leah's thigh. Somewhere close by, a tinny, mechanical version of "Monday, Monday" began to play. Sophia groaned. Leah pulled her into a hug, to keep her on the bed, but Sophia said, "That's my brother. I told him to call. I just hoped it would be earlier." Leah let go, going completely slack, flinging her arms to the side. Sophia climbed off of her, brushing her abdomen in the process, and got the phone. "Don't go anywhere," she mouthed to Leah, and then opened the phone. "Hello?" At the sound of the voice on the other end, Sophia's expression became delight. "Hi," she said. Leah moved up to the headboard and propped herself against the pillows. Sophia sat down next to her, listening to the voice on the other end of the phone. Leah could hear low, male tones, but they were just making a staccato, buzzing sound. She settled her hand on Sophia's thigh. The male voice offered a laugh, loud enough for Leah to hear and then stopped. Sophia started talking. Leah tried to tune her out, to offer a wall of privacy in the inches between their heads, but Sophia's voice interested her. She rested her head on Sophia's shoulder, listening, as Sophia counseled her brother on love. Leah didn't know if the brother was older or younger; she tried to picture him from his voice, and ended up just picturing Donny Osmond. Sophia became a different person as she talked to her brother. She was looser, funnier, softer, less demanding with the mess of his life than she was with her own monologues. She seemed completely unselfconscious, and Leah stayed as still as possible not to break the spell. "Oh, Jackson," Sophia said, and a tear formed at the corner of her eye. Leah kissed her cheek. Sophia smiled at her and then asked, "What? Yes." She squeezed Leah's hand, and Leah was glad to be there, not only to witness but to give what Sophia needed. The conversation dragged on and Leah's eyes began to droop. Determined to stay awake, to make love to Sophia, when the arousal had already pooled between her legs, when Sophia's fingers were tracing circles on her thigh, she turned on the television, set it to mute, and watched a talk show. She tried to mimic the exaggerated faces she saw there in the host and the participants. She longed for a mirror. She longed to talk. She was rarely this long in a room with someone without talking. Her jaw worked. She added dialogue to the expressions. Sophia covered the mouth of the phone and said, "I think they're talking in Spanish." "It's on mute," Leah said. Sophia furrowed her brow. She went back to the phone. The talk show got boring. Leah channel-surfed before finding the news. She couldn't mimic fires or floods or stocks going up, but the graphics were pretty enough. She stared at them. "Leah." Sophia shook her. Leah looked over. Rarely had Sophia said her name. It sounded strange and exotic and beautiful coming from her lips. "I'm off the phone," Sophia said. "How's your brother?" "Better. He just needed to talk to someone who understands that he isn't crazy." "Takes one to know one?" Leah said. Sophia smacked her side. Then she hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom. Leah frowned, turned off the television, and went to retrieve her bag. She'd brought sexy pajamas--the one pair of sexy pajamas she brought on every trip, just in case, and she changed into them quickly and put on Chap Stick and bounded back into bed. Her hair had dried haphazardly, and she considered lunging for the bag again, and her comb, but Sophia emerged, wearing a white T-shirt that said Evita on it, and boxer shorts that looked like they had belonged to a man at one time. Plaid. Leah looked at her legs, as Sophia came over and knelt on the bed and wrapped her arms around Leah. "Who were you in Evita?" Leah asked. "Oh, no one. I just saw it with my parents and loved it. You know. Theater." "Of course." "Madonna," Sophia said. "Don't cry--" Sophia cut her off with a kiss, sealing their mouths together until she seemed sure Leah wouldn't sing. Leah smiled as Sophia pulled back, and said, "We could..." She slid her hands down Sophia's back and urged her closer. "We could," Sophia agreed. She pressed her mouth to Leah's. Leah [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |