When they paused, Kristin tried to anchor herself into the moment again, even though she had no idea how. Her mind was racing, thinking all these thoughts that should just be erased by the touch of another woman’s lips on hers. She looked at Sheryl, at her hair that fell loosely to her shoulders—perhaps the most overtly feminine aspect of her. At those eyes that said so much, of that Kristin was certain, but she had no means to decipher their language. This was already so much more than anything she’d ever felt. The intensity of this kiss made her feel as though she’d previously only dabbled in lesbianism, dipped her toe into the proverbial waters just a fraction, whereas now her entire body appeared to be sucked under.
Kristin pulled back slightly and realized she was reacting in her usual way to her body’s growing excitement. It was as if she was conditioned to mitigate her visible enthusiasm, to put a lid on that scandalous sensation.
“Are you all right?” Sheryl asked, her voice husky and sweet.
“I am,” Kristin said, and leaned in. She kissed Sheryl now, or at least instigated the next kiss. Because she was more all right than she’d ever been, optimistic and so very certain of one thing: she wanted Sheryl’s lips on hers over and over again.
Sheryl caught her breath. Kristin was giving some mixed signals. She was harder to read than most women. There was something guarded about her, a wall that would probably only be broken down piece by tiny piece. She’d noticed that when they first shook hands at the wine delivery. Everything about that half hour they’d spent in each other’s company—that very first time they’d clasped eyes on each other—had been a mixed signal. But a signal nonetheless. A challenge Sheryl was more than up for.
Should she go for that top button of Kristin’s blouse or would that be construed as too forward? This was a perfect example of how Kristin made Sheryl doubt her otherwise instinctive actions. Sheryl was not the type to debate herself on whether she should start unbuttoning another woman’s blouse. She had undressed quite a few women so far and none of them had ever complained. Sheryl always followed her gut, and doing so had never let her down. So what was with all the back and forth now? Maybe she was just projecting her own insecurities because, damn it, she really liked Kristin. She didn’t want to mess this up. This could be the start of something Sheryl had been waiting for a long time.
Sheryl let her hand slip from Kristin’s neck to where her blouse gaped open at her collarbone. She traced a finger over Kristin’s skin there. Ha, she didn’t even have to unbutton that top button. She already had plenty of access to Kristin’s skin. Oh, Kristin’s skin. That pert mouth. God, this woman sitting on her couch, kissing her, was stunning. Everything about her was delicate in a way that seemed opposite to Sheryl. Even this blouse she was wearing. It made Sheryl’s simple T-shirt feel like a cliché.
That’s when it hit her. Kristin made Sheryl shake in her boots—made her feel so unlike herself—because she was already infatuated with her. Caitlin would mock her for even considering the possibility after only an extended evening in someone’s company. Betty would encourage her. But what would Sheryl say if anyone else told her about her current situation? And what the hell was she doing asking herself a question like that? Yes, Kristin unsettled her, but in a good way. In the most exquisite way possible.
This was the beginning of something that Sheryl never wanted to end, which was why she wouldn’t be unbuttoning any blouses tonight. This moment had to be approached with restraint and respect.
“What are you doing next weekend?” Sheryl asked when they broke next from their lip-lock.
Kristin pulled her lips into an O. “I think there’s a strong possibility that next weekend I’ll be doing whatever you’re about to suggest next.”
“Good.” Sheryl nodded. “I’d like to take you somewhere.”
“Oh yeah? Where to?”
“It’s a surprise.”
Kristin cocked her head. “I barely know you, Sheryl. How can I let you take me somewhere if I don’t know where it is?”
“I dare say you know me well enough already.” Sheryl pulled Kristin closer again, kissed her again.
Chapter Five
Kristin hadn’t stopped thinking about Sheryl all week. Work weeks usually flew by, never leaving Kristin enough time to finish her daily to-do lists. More often than not, she found herself popping into the office on Saturday morning to finish her tasks and have a clean-ish slate to return to the next Monday. This week, however, had gone by at an excruciatingly slow pace.