Chapter 4

Zoe

If I had had any doubts before they would have been gone now. One look into her eyes would have been enough to know that I had been right about her feelings towards me. If we had been in a chick flick we would have fallen into each others arms, kissed each other passionately and lived happily ever after. But we weren't and I was in no shape to fall into anybody's arms anyway. Besides, coming to think of it, there probably aren't that many chick flicks with two women living together happily ever after.

But it wasn't one and so we didn't fall into each other's arms but still gazed into our eyes for a full minute until Ann finally turned and opened a cupboard to search for a vase, maybe to occupy herself.

I put the money on the counter, searching for the right words. "I am very grateful for your help, Ann. But you don't have to pay for me."

Placing the flowers on the table she turned again and picked up the bills. "I know that I don't have to," she said smiling at me. "But I wanted to," she finally added and stuffed the money back into my bag.

I didn't like that too much, but money has never meant enough to me to make too much of a fuss over it. Discussing this or even argue about it with Ann was definitely not worth the time, not least because I knew I couldn't make her change her mind.

I knew what would be worth the time: Kissing her. It had been six months and ... what? 20, 21 days? since I had last kissed someone. Properly kissed someone, I mean. And I just knew that her lips would be soft and warm and her tongue would feel wonderful. I knew, just knew, that I would love to feel all that, would love to kiss her, be kissed by her, that I would love every single second. I also knew that if I kissed her there would be no reason anymore to count the days. Not that there was a reason to count them now, or ever, mind you. It wasn't as if I consciously counted them either, that's simply how my brain works: With numbers. They just popped up in my mind every time I thought about Eric, just like they pop up in my mind every time I think about my mom. However, I didn't think about Eric or my mom now, not at all.

All I thought about was that I wanted to feel Ann's lips on mine, her hands on my body, that I wanted to smell her scent and feel the warmth of her body.

But.

But I didn't kiss her. Of course I didn't.

Ann

Our first kiss...

Standing there, before me, hesitant yet resolved, eyes focused no longer on my eyes, but on my lips. Such a simple thing, yet my breath caught in my throat, even as a soft blush tinted her neck, body unconsciously leaning forward in anticipation. To soon, intuition screaming, wait, wait, wait.

Accustomed as I am to being in control, it would be so easy to manufacture a kiss, to set the scene, manoeuvre her, gently lure her in, tricked and trapped, a perfect kiss, perfectly executed, a kiss so empty the echoes would shatter us both. A first kiss says so much, it has to be spontaneous.

Having placed the vase on the table I took the time to unwrap the bouquet carefully, admiring Zoe's choice, her answering smile filling the room and my heart with it's simple warmth. As I worked, clipping and bruising the stems, placing each into the vase, arranging as I went, we began to talk. Hesitant at first, slowly relaxed, taking a seat at the table, inconsequential, devoid of hidden meanings, we chatted about everything and nothing, all the while growing more relaxed.

We continued over lunch, both of us hungry, our appetite for food sated, other needs began to grow. The table cleared we moved into the lounge, Zoe choosing the recliner again whilst I lit the fire, the room already warm, the fire just added a touch of ambience. An endlessly changing focus point, as we continued our conversation, and sipped our drinks, water Zoe's choice whilst I had my customary mug of Earl Grey tea.

Afternoon gave way to evening, gradually our conversation drew us closer, bodies still seated comfortably, separated by the hearth rug, our minds reaching out to bridge the gap. I like to cook, I especially like company whilst I prepare a meal, but tonight the kitchen was to far away. My favourite Chinese restaurant delivers, the perfect solution, a quick call, a brief trip to the kitchen for bowls, a diversion to the front door, I appreciated prompt delivery, and wine.

We settled for eating before the fire, sitting on the floor, leaning back against the sofa, the food spread out on the low coffee table before us, an open bottle of Montalcino. Good food, great company, perfection.

Later, our glasses holding the last of the wine, we lay back, content and relaxed, Zoe had turned towards me, resting her injured arm on the deep padding of the sofa, the firelight dancing in her eyes, her lips so soft and tempting, to tempting...

Leaning forward, my hand reaching out, fingers spread as they lost themselves in her hair, eyes locked, mine looking for doubt, hers glowing with unspoken passion, our lips met, hers conforming to mine, surrendering...

As my hand cupped her head, holding, fingers buried in auburn delight, I felt her melt, her body resting against me, eyes open, hiding nothing, offering everything. Even as our tongues entwined I felt her shiver, a frisson of excitement, her need and inexperience mingling with trepidation, her free hand cautiously venturing, part caress, part embrace, totally arousing, the touch of her fingers setting my senses on fire.

Kiss followed kiss, each longer, more intense, pausing only to sip our wine and lose ourselves in each others eyes, bodies close, melting with the heat of our passion. Words no longer necessary, all I needed to know I could see in her eyes, feel in the quivering of her body, my emerald vision was ready, waiting, needy, unsure of exactly what would happen, but wanting it anyway.

Pushing the low table aside I took her in my arms, easing her down onto the rug, pausing to look one last time for doubt, her eyes closed, a single breath held, then an emerald invitation opened as her lips parted, seeking another kiss. Slowly, lovingly, I unwrapped her, revealing her body, baring it to let the firelight flicker upon those curves, casting shadows of intrigue. Even her need could not totally overcome her blushes, soft pink highlights flushing her neck, her cheeks, even as I moved over her, hands moulding, fingers teasing, lips plundering her mouth as our tongues entwined once more. Moving as one, breathing as one, her body yielding to my touches, breath faster, trembling, writhing, spilling her heat as my fingers took her again and again until at last she lay spent and drained. Cradled in my arms Zoe moaned once more, a long soft declaration of consummation.

The dawn light crept slowly across the bed, each ray seeking out an auburn partner, the subtle glow forming a halo around the beauty who lay naked in my bed. In the night her dreams had woken me, her agitation soothed by my embrace, I had held her safe within my arms, kissing her head, gentling her back to peaceful sleep. Now I lay watching her, delighting in that simple pleasure.

Only when the strident sound of by alarm was imminent did I force myself to rise, careful not to awaken her I turned off the alarm before it could ring, then padded naked to the bathroom. After showering, towelled dry, my hair still damp, I slipped out of the bedroom, moving through house that for once felt like a home, heading for the kitchen, the kettle, my, no, our morning tea.

Zoe

She didn't either. Kiss me, I mean. For a second, or maybe it was two, three, four seconds, it looked as if she would. However, she didn't and we started to talk. Again. For a short time I was annoyed with myself because once again I had been too chicken to do what I wanted to do. The story of my life, at least my love life.

But then the chatting was nice, easygoing, relaxing. Ann told me that she was a photographer and I tried to explain to her what it was I worked on, but as usual it didn't work. She seemed to be interested, or at least nice enough to show an interest, but I couldn't even explain the basics. Ah well, there were other, better things to talk about and so the afternoon slowly dissolved into evening, we sat on the floor, ate Chinese food and drank Italian wine and talked and talked and talked.

And then we didn't talk anymore, just looked at each other and it was obvious that we both wanted the same, but still I was too timid, or shy, or outright stupid to reach out to Ann or lean closer and kiss her lips. She wasn't, though, and so our lips finally touched and everything I had imagined happened: Shivers ran down my spine, my head was spinning, heart beating fast, panty getting damp. We kissed for a long time and if it wasn't completely perfect then it was only because with one arm in a splint I couldn't hold her as tight as I wanted.

Her blond hair falling down on me, brushing my face and neck when she moved down to kiss me once more, her eyes sparkling with the reflection of the chimney fire, everything was just perfect.

Then, after a look in my eyes, maybe to see if I was still comfortable or maybe to find encouragement to go on, which I hoped she would see in both my eyes, her soft fingers carefully opened the buttons of my top, pushed down the skirt, the panty, until I lay naked beneath her, blushing when her eyes wandered over my body, followed by the gentle touch of her fingers.

Somewhere and somehow we moved to her bedroom and somehow we fell asleep, or at least I did, but before that Ann showed me how it is to be with a woman. I'm afraid I wasn't a very good lover myself, not only because it was the first time I was in bed with a woman and because I simply was overwhelmed, but also because she really didn't give me that much chance to try. Every time I wanted to she'd touch some other body part or did something else with her fingers that made me gasp and moan and close my eyes to enjoy whatever she was doing. But I sure hoped I would sooner or later get the chance to explore her body as she explored mine that night.

Again something warm and soft touched my forehead, but this time it was not part of a dream and it wasn't part of a good bye either, this time it was a beginning. My heart missed a beat when I saw Ann bent over me, smiling, her damp hair tickling my neck.

"Good morning, love," she greeted me. "I hope you slept well."

"Good morning, Ann. Yes, I slept very well," I said with the smile that I knew would be fixed to my face for the rest of the day, for the first time looking at her body in daylight. Unlike me, she didn't mind her nakedness at all. I'm not a total prude, but I know I'd have been self-conscious if I had been in her position. Not self-conscious enough to not pull back the covers and invite her into the bed, though, if only for a couple of minutes until she had to leave for the gallery.