Chapter 1

“Hey-lo, I’m home, uhhh...” I momentarily froze when I found Lindsey standing at the bathroom sink.

She wore a tiny black lace thong, matching bra that did nothing to hide her stiff pink nipples, and dark thigh high stockings with a matching rose motif around the garter. She looked amazing, especially the way Lindsey leaned forward with her nose practically touching the mirror as she worked on her eye shadow. Her tight, round ass was pushed backwards and those gorgeous tits jiggled sweetly as she turned to smile at me.

“Oh! Hey, Emma. You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I thought, uh...” I felt completely confused. “Are we going out tonight?”

“Jason called,” she answered, back to her reflection and speaking carefully as she worked a swab over her left eyelid. “I told you about him, right? Anyway, he’s back in town and...”

“That’s your old boyfriend?”

“From college, yeah.” She glanced my way with a quick smile. “So he’s back and he wanted to get together and, you know, catch up a little.”

“Oh.”

“Aw ... I’m sorry, Emma. I know we were doing the Italian thing tonight, but...”

“It’s okay,” I quickly said. “We can do it some other time.”

“At least he called before I got the pasta started!” Lindsey giggled and I tried to smile.

We’d planned a little dinner together for this evening, which marked exactly a month since the girl had moved in with me. I don’t think she really cared, but it was a big deal for me. I loved her so much it hurt sometime. Like right then as I watched her reach for her lipstick basket, flicking the assorted tubes with her finger until she found the perfect shade for her full pouting lips.

“You picked up wine, didn’t you?” Lindsey asked with a sigh. “I feel terrible now. I’ll call Jason right now and...”

My heart leapt at those words, but there was no way I could let her do that. I suppose I wanted to be the victim now, hoping that I could punish Lindsey with guilt. God, I hated these little mind games, but I was desperate. I needed her so badly and I would have done anything to pull her closer, to make the girl love me in return.

“No, no.” I shook my head, and waved that idea away. “It’s no big deal. I have to go over some numbers anyway. I’ll get some work done and you can have a good time with, uh...”

“Jason,” she reminded me, putting on a sympathetic smile and taking the three steps necessary to give me a hug. “You’re the best, Emma! Thank you!”

Even through the linen suit I wore, I practically melted in Lindsey’s embrace. She smelled incredible as I took the opportunity to bury my face in her soft blonde hair. My hands were on her bare back, her skin soft as silk and so warm beneath my touch. Her body rubbed against me, just a small shimmy of her hips and a quick press of her breasts against my own ... and then she pulled back.

“I won’t be out too late,” she promised. “Make some popcorn later and we’ll watch a movie or something. Okay?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed hard and tried to fight the warmth in my cheeks. Her grey-blue eyes seemed to twinkle as she watched me fumble for words.

There was no doubt that Lindsey knew exactly the effect she had on me. It must have been obvious from the moment a mutual friend had introduced us several months ago. I’d been looking for someone to share the rent and Karen, a woman I’d gone to school with, said she knew a girl from work who was being forced out of her place. The landlord was raising her rent or something.

It also turned out that Lindsey was losing her job as a receptionist. Karen thought it was because she was always coming in late and had burned through all of her sick days in only a few months. I didn’t like the sound of that, and I seriously doubted I’d want a roomie that couldn’t be depended upon, but I agreed to meet the girl. That Karen also let it drop that Lindsey was incredibly cute didn’t hurt either. I was on the rebound and my friend knew it.

“I don’t know if she’s queer at all,” Karen told me with a shrug, “but I know she’s turned down like three guys at work.”

“Really?” I nodded at that, but figured it just meant she had a guy somewhere else. Back home, in the army, whatever.

Karen was grinning, but I’d never really been comfortable talking about my sexuality, especially with my straight friends. I think a few of them only like me because I’m gay and it makes them feel more worldly somehow. I’m not loud and proud, put it that way, but I’m not gonna hide either.

And then a few days later, Lindsey hit me like a bolt of lightning.

By the time we’d finished our lunch I’d practically begged her to move in with me. I’d even knocked about a third of her fair share off the rent, just because she admitted it might be tough until she could find a better job. Those were her words, ‘better job’ and not ‘a new job’ which would have been closer to the truth. I didn’t care.

There was only one condition, not quite but almost unspoken – she had to let me take her out to dinner.

“Ohhh ... Do you mean a real date?” Lindsey had asked, smiling playfully and twirling a lock of hair around her fingers. “Or just a friendly dinner so we can get to know each other better?”

Her eyes were staring into mine and instead of answering directly and honestly, and telling the girl that I’d fallen head over heels in love with her ... I chickened out, and we both knew it. I was so afraid she would say no, although I couldn’t even imagine that happening, but I was scared. I couldn’t risk it and I looked down, stuttering like a teenage girl with her first crush.

“Uh, well, just um ... You know, dinner,” I answered. “If that’s okay with you?”

It was a question that I hadn’t meant to ask. Girls respond to confidence. I know that, I understand that, and I’d asked girls out before. But this time I was really screwing it up and when I lifted my head to get her answer, all I could see was an odd smile on Lindsey’s pretty face. Amused? Definitely, maybe sympathetic as well, but something else, too. For just a second there I thought she looked almost smug, but then she reached across the table and grabbed my hand.

“Of course, we can go to dinner, Emma!” she said with a warm squeeze of my fingers.

That was the first time anyone had ever called me Emma. Even as a child I’d been Emily to everyone else, my family and friends, being introduced to strangers. Always Emily, but suddenly Lindsey had taken my name and made it her own. Emma. I liked that a lot.