Chapter 22

Fuck, Dana thought—Nikki’d heard. Backhand? Hell, she wanted to snap Summer’s neck.

Summer sneered as she stumbled to her feet. “And the cunt herself. Come to gloat?”

“No,” Nikki said, stepping forward to look at Summer in the face. “You’ve got it wrong—Dana has me wrapped around her finger.”

Summer pulled back her hand. In one motion, Dana was on her feet and had caught her wrist before Summer could slap Nikki.

“Don’t.” The one word carried all of Dana’s rage, sharpened to a point.

Summer looked at her in surprise. Oh yes, Dana thought at her, I can too take control. She was probably hurting Summer’s wrist, but Dana didn’t care.

Summer jerked once, twice, out of Dana’s grasp. As Heather said, “I think you’d better leave now,” Dana bent, picked up Summer’s jeans and horrid pink top.

When Summer protested, Dana tossed her clothes at her; Summer caught them against her belly. “Out,” Dana said.

“Now,” Nikki said.

She and Heather stepped each took one of Summer’s arms and propelled her out the door. Summer squawked when she found herself outside, naked. Her way back in blocked, she disappeared around the corner of the shed.

Heather looked back at Dana from the door. “We’ll handle it.” When Dana protested, Heather said, “Cheerleaders take care of their own.”

Ha. They probably did. Dana certainly wouldn’t want to be disciplined by the rest of the squad.

Heather said to Nikki, “You know what to do,” and followed Summer. She closed the door behind her.

Shit. Dana looked at Nikki in despair. To have heard Summer—to have heard her and Summer—to see her with Summer. It was bad enough Dana had hurt her by being with Summer—Summer’s words could only have made it worse. Fuck didn’t even cover it. This was definitely a ... Dana didn’t have a word for it. She didn’t know how she could make up for this.

“Oh, Dana—what is it?”

With one step, Nikki was in her arms, holding Dana tight. Holding Dana right. Whispering sweet nothings into Dana’s naked chest.

“But—” Dana said.

Nikki looked up, her expression not hurt—worried. It gave Dana the courage to say three more words.

“But I was...”

“That’s just it,” Nikki said. “You weren’t. You couldn’t. She—”

“She wasn’t you.”

Nikki clutched Dana tight. “And it should have been.”

Dana held Nikki, chin resting on her head. Yes, it should have been. Which was what Nikki was saying—not just that Dana had wanted Nikki, but that Nikki wanted to be wanted. To have been doing what Summer had been. “Exactly,” Dana breathed, tightening her hold on Nikki, rocking her slightly back and forth. The fringes on Nikki’s jacket sleeves brushed against Dana’s bare back. “It should be you.” Somewhere beyond, a guiltmonkey sniffed disdainfully at her, then turned to go.

Nikki’s hold eased. She looked up at Dana, stretching up to—

“Oh, this is ridiculous,” she said. She turned Dana around and hopped onto a single bale of hay. Their mouths were nearly the same height—perfect for kissing. Especially kissing girls who taste of orange lip gloss with a hint of something other, something of herself. Nikki wrapped her arms around Dana’s neck, while Dana reached under the buckskin jacket to hold her cashmere-soft waist. A shiver skipped up Dana’s spine.

“Let me guess,” Nikki murmured against Dana’s lips, “this alpine climbing thing is going to get old quickly.”

“Well, you know what they say,” Dana said wickedly, “everyone’s the same height lying down.”

Dana swept her up—Nikki’s laugh turned to a squeak—and laid her down on the blanket. The smell of horse surrounded them like a warm stable. Dana looked down at her smiling lover, and caressed her cheek with a knuckle. Nikki pressed against Dana’s hand. Somewhere very near by, a lustbunny thumped its hind foot.

Dana bent down to kiss Nikki, but was stopped by a finger on her lips.

“Wait—one moment.” Nikki reached around Dana’s head and pulled off her scrunchie. She combed through Dana’s hair with her fingers, fanning it across Dana’s shoulders, so it hung over them like a short veil. It was an amazingly sensual act. Dana purred in the back of her throat.

“I’ve been wanting to do that,” Nikki whispered. “There. NOW—do me.”

Dana purred again, louder. Nikki smiled as Dana slowly bent down and pounced on her willing prey.

Piece by piece, Dana unwrapped Nikki like a present—jacket, necklace, sweater (for all its sensuality), jeans, underwear. And Dana’s panties. Along the way, they tasted every new territory, both of them together—before, behind, between, above, below. How Nikki shivered when Dana caressed beneath her breasts, how there was a hotline connecting the hollow of Dana’s neck to her hips. There was a rhythm to it—a give and take, for all that Nikki let Dana take charge. Summer had tried to grab control; Dana wondered, briefly, if they could ever have worked. That flash was the only intrusion of anyone else, of anything else. The world was two bodies, wool, and the odor of horse.

The first time Dana went down on Nikki, she kissed and licked and nibbled down Nikki’s body then back up her legs. She was already wet, her folds open like a flower. A lick up her pussy made her shiver. A suckle on her labia made her stiffen. A flick of the tongue on her pink clit made her groan. Nikki tasted like—like nothing Dana could describe. She sought and discarded several words—even sweet didn’t describe it—before giving up. She tasted like Nikki, and that was enough.

When Nikki came, it was with a catch of her breath and a shudder through her whole body. It left her with renewed energy for kissing and caressing. And rubbing Dana’s pussy and clit till her first release came as well. And her second, and third.

Nikki did not, this time, go down on Dana. Not that Dana cared—fingers and loins and bodies were enough.