Beneath the Surface(32)
Kristin intensified her grip around Sheryl’s body and Sheryl sunk deeper into her embrace. She knew where this was headed. She could so easily steer it away, divert Kristin’s affection, but she didn’t want to. Better an orgasm than a drink, she thought, and looked up at Kristin, knowing full well what the sight of her moistened eyes would do to her partner. She would see all sorts of things in them that she suspected Sheryl couldn’t express—Sheryl knew this because Kristin had told her once.
“You don’t have to tell me in words,” Kristin had said. “I understand.”
Sheryl had been both touched and aggravated by that. Touched by how Kristin tried, sometimes desperately, though always with a gentle, non-probing hand, to grasp Sheryl’s past, despite Sheryl’s unwillingness to share much about it. What was done was done. Sheryl had already shared much more with Kristin than she had with anyone else. There really wasn’t much more to say. What had annoyed her was the fact that this was the very reason she didn’t talk about her mother’s suicide with anyone. Sheryl wasn’t after understanding because it bordered too close on pity, the very last thing she wanted.
“Come here,” Kristin said, pulling her up, lips already parted for a kiss.
Kristin had been right about one thing. Sometimes, words were obsolete. They were in a bind, and this whole Hong Kong business had brought it to a head—something had to at some point. Just like Kristin had been unable to tell her about the offer, Sheryl was keeping her own secrets. If they couldn’t be close by talking it all through, if too much stood in the way of that, they could at least express their willingness to understand the other through what they were about to do next.
They kissed, and it took longer than usual for Sheryl to shake off the tension in her limbs, the lingering hint of doom in her mind. But she knew Kristin’s kiss so well, knew what the softness of her lips did to her, and how the familiarity of her touch made her go all warm inside. Kristin had always had a way of making her melt, a way of making Sheryl remember how things had been between them when they’d just met: passionate and so right from the get-go.
She pulled Kristin on top of her and melted more into their kiss, into the meeting of their bodies. Her mind relaxed and the tension in her muscles changed into an anticipatory one. Kristin trailed kisses along her neck, sank her teeth into Sheryl’s shoulder, and, with that, set the tone for this particular encounter. Sheryl guessed this was makeup sex, or at least a diversion from all the conversations they had yet to have. Or, maybe, they could resolve it all without words. The whole notion of moving away from Sydney would dissipate as their orgasms roared through the air. Kristin would work less. Sheryl would drink less. She’d go back to abstaining again. She’d be strong again. She stopped her train of thought, realizing she was expecting way too much of a simple climax, while all Kristin had wanted to tell her, by quite roughly biting into her skin, was that she was ready and up for a quickie.
Sheryl tried to shuffle from underneath Kristin, which was a clumsy affair on the narrow living room sofa, to assume her more traditional position on top. But Kristin, uncharacteristically, wouldn’t budge.
She used her teeth again and it made the hard pulse in Sheryl’s clit intensify.
Kristin slid off her, pushed Sheryl’s T-shirt up, exposing her braless breasts to the air. Then, unceremoniously, she flipped open Sheryl’s jeans button and dug a hand straight inside her panties.
Just like during the course of a relationship all different kinds of love come to the fore at different times, the same was true for sex. But it had been a while since Kristin had done this, had taken control like this.
Sheryl reacted by lowering herself to meet Kristin’s hand better. Kristin’s slender digits never missed their effect, and just like she had allowed their embrace earlier to drain the tension from the room and her body, she sank into Kristin’s touch there. Ready to go where Kristin wanted to take her at the flick of a finger.
Kristin’s wrist didn’t have much sway and Sheryl gave her a hand by lowering the zipper and pushing her jeans down a little. But, as it turned out, Kristin’s hand didn’t need a lot of leeway. She circled a finger around Sheryl’s clit, gently, letting her get used to its presence there, allowing her body to catch up with the quick chain of events. As soon as Sheryl relaxed under her touch, she went from circling to rubbing. The rhythm revved up from slow to frenzied quickly, and Sheryl didn’t stand a chance because after all this time together, Kristin knew exactly where to apply pressure. She didn’t waste any time doing so and had Sheryl panting in a flash.