A Sweet & Merry Christmas, a FREE Rebel Wayfarers MC Short Story
Rub a dub, dub, two girls in a … biker bar? We’ve got bikers and bakers and bartenders, but will they embrace more than the Christmas spirit?
A sweet Christmas short story of want and desire. Experience a taste of Brandy’s pursuit of Jess, and their coming together for the first time. You might even get to catch a glimpse of many of your favorite Rebels at this holiday celebration, in true Mason style.
This short story gives a little insight into a sweet couple who many readers have asked about. In the series timeline, this story would sit alongside book #1, Mica. You can learn more about Jess and Brandy, as well as Mason and other members of the Rebel Wayfarers MC in the books, Mica, Slate, Bear, & Jase, now available.
18+ due to mature content. LGBT
Thank you to the readers who kept asking about Jess and Brandy, wanting to know more about the dynamics of their relationship and how they met. See what happens when you tell me you want something? Muuwah, love all you guys.
To all the Jessicas and Brandys I know and love. I hope you find your happy, in whatever flavor that happens to be.
Out Of The Oven
“You’re just in time! Pull up a stool, help me ice these last ones,” Brandy Still called across the bakery, lifting her head to smile at the petite woman who’d just walked in the door from the outside. The bundled-up form raised a hand with a noncommittal grunt, and began the process of divesting herself of the seasonal wear necessary to survive a Chicago winter.
Gloves first, revealing slim, white fingers, then the scarf was carefully unwrapped from a slender column of throat, and Brandy caught her breath. She loved watching Jessica Nalan do nearly anything, but seeing her undressing, even if it was just the outer layer of clothing she wore, made desire clench deep in her belly.
Next was the patchwork toque, tugged roughly off leaving the short, pixie cut standing on end, her small fingers threading through her blonde hair and bringing it back to some semblance of order. Brandy stood, still watching as those same fingers deftly maneuvered the zipper of the coat down past breasts and belly, the edges of the coat falling open to be shoved aside when Jess removed the garment entirely, draping it over a nearby chair.
“Let me wash my hands. I’ll be right back to help,” Jess said, and Brandy tilted her head questioningly. “You told me to help you ice cupcakes, dork. Did you forget already?”
Laughing, Brandy turned back to the tray of individual cakes on the counter. “Yeah, right. I guess I just didn’t think you’d take me serious.” Shit, she thought, I need to watch myself. I can’t get lost watching her like that, or she’s going to figure things out.
Piping buttercream icing on top of the cupcakes, she was creating small cream-colored Christmas trees, wreaths, reindeer, and candy canes, one after the other. She hadn’t heard the swinging door that lead to the rear of the shop, but Jess had probably headed back already. If she wasn’t just putting her coat back on after seeing Brandy drooling over her.
She let out a surprised “Eeep” when she felt cold hands push under her shirt and place themselves palm-first against the small of her back. Twisting away, she scolded Jess, “Your hands are cold!”
“And you are warm,” she heard, but suddenly couldn’t concentrate on the words or the voice because those hands had slipped to her sides, cupping around her ribs and tugging her backwards slightly, holding her in place. Her breath caught in her throat, if Jess knew what this did to her, she’d move away, take the warmth of her hands from her skin, the heat of her body from Brandy’s back.
She’d first noticed Jess on the campus of the college they both attended, but the woman had stuck close to her roommate, Mica Scott, and Brandy had never been certain if they were a couple or not. It wasn’t until they’d graduated, and all moved to Chicago that they’d become friends, and she decided Mica wasn’t Jess’ lover, glad she’d kept her questions to herself. She was sure Jess still didn’t know her sexual preferences, and Brandy was happy to keep a lid on it in order to stay friends with her.
She’d seen firsthand the cruel wedge that could be driven into a friendship when she admitted being interested in women…even when she hadn’t been attracted to that friend. She could just imagine the Grand Canyon-sized gulf that would be created if she confessed her desires to Jess, who she’d lusted after for a long time. So, she would just continue to hunger from a distance, trying to hide her longing.
But those hands…those damn hands were still curled around her sides, slipping down to her waist and then back up, it nearly felt like a caress. Brandy closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of Jess’ now-warm hands on her, fingers pressing into her skin, trailing up and down her ribs, the tie of her apron no deterrent to the touch. Soft, fingertips questing along the top of her jeans, tracing the edge of the waistband around to the snap closure.
The small woman was a furnace behind her; Brandy could feel her breasts pressed against her back. Hardly daring to breathe, she felt a kiss on her spine at the same time those fingertips tugged at the snap, loosening it before delving underneath. “Jess,” she whispered, not sure what else to say, desperate to not derail this moment she’d wanted for so long.
One hand drifted up her side, and she felt the barest brush of fingertips across the side of her breast, a slight graze across her nipple which pebbled and hardened under the attention. Gently tracing along the upper curve of her mound, Jess hooked one finger under the lace, tugging the fabric down, allowing her breast to spill over the top of the cup and into her warm palm. Exposed to her bare touch, Brandy felt a drawing sensation in her breast, the tug reaching down from her hard nipple through her body to her clit, throbbing in time with her fast-beating heart.
Another kiss on her spine and the woman’s second hand flattened against her belly before sliding downward into her pants. Slipping into the front of her panties, Jess’ fingers pressed into her, and she heard a small gasp behind her when they first touched her slippery wetness, evidence of her arousal. She felt the delicate rasp of a fingernail dragged across her clit once…twice, before the hand pushed further, pressing what felt like two fingers deep inside her.
Involuntarily her hips thrust forward, her back arching, shoulders pressing back against the woman plastered against her. Wordlessly Jess worked her, tugging and pinching on her nipple in a rhythm sympathetic to the movements against and inside her pussy, bringing her closer…drawing her upward, relentlessly dragging her into the deep waves before pushing her over the top, holding her tightly as she quivered in her arms.
Dropping her head forward, she looked down to see…the expanse of her icing-dotted apron, fabric moving slightly with her gasping breaths. She felt suddenly bereft, thinking, I won’t even have the memory of what her fingers looked like against my skin. One of her hands was still holding the sleeve of icing and she saw the thick mixture pressing against the tip of the bag as her hand tightened around it, her other hand gripping the edge of the cabinet tightly.
Maybe she doesn’t know what to say, she thought, even as she felt Jess’ fingers righting her clothing, pulling the cup of her bra back over the nipple and breast, the other hand tugging her zipper up and fastening the snap on her jeans.
Say something, she heard the quiet plea and realized Jess must be even more frightened than she was. Brandy, please…
Taking a deep breath, she laid down the pastry bag and turned, not caring that she had sugar coating her hands she began to reach out and then halted abruptly, seeing Jess still across the room, just now laying her coat across the back of the chair. Closing her eyes in despair, she realized she’d imagined the entire encounter. Nothing had happened…nothing could happen.
Swallowing hard, she forced a smile onto her face, “Slowpoke, get a move on it. Wash those nasty” delicious “fingers and get back out here” back inside me “and help me finish this order for Mason.”
Jess grinned, “Since when does Mason order cupcakes?” Mason was the president of a Chicago-based motorcycle club that Mica had moved in next to earlier this year. He’d developed a fondness for Mica, and Brandy had grown to like and respect the man when she saw how gently he treated both of her friends, behaving as if Jess and Mica were more like little sisters than attractive, unattached young women.
“Since he’s having a party at Jackson’s, I guess,” Brandy turned back to the counter and took a deep breath. She’d had fantasies about Jess before but never like that, at work and standing upright…and never with the woman in the room. Calling loudly, she asked, “Bring one of the trays with you when you come back?”
“You got it,” she heard a yell from the back room, and then the door swung outward, and Jess came through, balancing two trays. “Two is better than one, right?” she asked, laughing.
“Yeah, thanks.” She reached up to grab the box of edible decorations, sliding it across the countertop to Jess. “Sprinkles are in here, lots of colors. There are some other things like cinnamon bits for reindeer noses, candy for ornaments. Go crazy, woman. Make the cupcakes beautiful.”
Jess grinned up at her; a smile lifting the corners of her eyes and turning the lovely woman into a spectacularly beautiful one and Brandy watched mesmerized as Jess licked across her bottom lip. “Am I allowed to taste-test?”
God, yes. Please. “You bet, go for it. Just don’t make yourself sick. Folks are bringing sandwiches and snacks to the party, so there will be real food there tonight in addition to the cakes we’re taking.” Brandy massaged the pastry bag of icing briefly, trying unsuccessfully to not think about doing the same to Jess’ ass, and then got started icing the rest of the cupcakes.
They worked side-by-side for a couple hours, mostly in companionable silence, only broken by brief questions about the flavors, or when they paused to laugh at a cupcake Jess destroyed. That had been another moment when Brandy’s breath caught in her throat, because Jess broke the cake apart, and fed one half to Brandy piece by piece, her gamine features grinning up at Brandy the entire time, her fingers occasionally trailing across Brandy’s lips in an unconscious tease.
When the chore was done, Brandy leaned back against the counter, looking at the stacks of boxes filled with iced and decorated cupcakes, ready to be packed in her car for the trip across town to Jackson’s, the bar Mason owned. Brandy groaned inwardly when she looked at Jess, who was studiously licking her fingers clean of icing. The woman was going to kill her. She mused, Is it possible to die from desire?
Loading up the sweet treats, she casually suggested Jess ride with her, and before she knew it, they were locked in her van barreling up the road with Jess controlling the music. Laughing as they pulled into the parking lot at the bar, they were both singing to silly, seasonal tunes and she glanced over as she parked, catching a look she couldn’t quite define on Jess’ face. Their gaze locked for a second, then Brandy forced hers away, bending her head to avoid looking at Jess again while they gathered up their gloves and scarves, preparing to exit the vehicle.
At the back of the van, she was still struggling with her gloves when she heard Jess say from right beside her, “Hold still.” Freezing in place, she felt fingers dipping alongside her neck, under her scarf, then tugging it up and over her mouth and nose, the cloth of gloves grazing her skin as the fingers retreated. Forcing her lungs to work again, she muttered, “Thanks,” and opened the doors of the van.
Before she could lift out the first stack of boxes, she heard movement from behind them and swung to see a group of men walking their way. She stilled because she didn’t recognize any of them, and the man in the lead barked out a humorless laugh. “Do you know where you are, pretty lady? Lady as good-looking as you should be more careful where you show up.” The men walking with him laughed mockingly, spreading out to the sides, sweeping towards her and Jess like the outstretched wings of a bird, herding them back towards the open van.
One of the men had gotten close enough to reach out a hand, tugging Jess’ toque off her head and tossing it to the side. Brandy moved without thinking, putting herself between the small woman and the large, intimidating man. “Don’t touch her,” she hissed between tightly clenched teeth, leaning towards him as she shoved Jess backward, away from the man.
One of the other men made a crude comment, and she felt a tugging at her arm. Reaching back her hand, she felt small fingers thread between hers and she squeezed reassuringly. Speaking to the leader, she said, “We’re here by invitation, asshole. And yes, I know where I am.”
There was a shout from across the parking lot and the men in front of her and Jess parted like batter before a knife, revealing a set of faces she did know, and was damned glad to see right now. “Slate,” she called, squeezing Jess’ hand again, not letting go.
“Brandy,” he responded with a scowl on his handsome face, she could see his forehead wrinkling from a dozen paces away and she relaxed a tiny bit. He’ll take care of us, she thought. “Fucktards, what the hell do you think you are doing?” That was directed to the men now edging further away from her van.
“Slate, man. We didn’t know they were Rebel pussy. Respect, man.” The leader spoke the words, but his leer left no doubt that he’d have rather not been interrupted.
“I believe the term you are looking for is a friend of the Rebel club, dildo.” That was from one of the men with Slate, a man named Roach that she knew Mica was fond of.
“No shit?” the man said, rocking back on his heels. “Two pussies as Rebel ‘friends’? Well ain’t that just an interesting state of affairs.” He sneered at Roach and looked up at another of the Rebels. “Tugboat, does Mason know you got little ‘friends’ like this?”
“What the fuck is your problem, dickhead?” The statement came from Tug, an older man with striking features, his white hair swept back from his head with a bandanna, dark mustache framing a mouth now drawn down in displeasure. “Dominos want a shitstorm? You’re fucking standing on Rebel ground. I’m telling you one time, you want a shitstorm then you keep going the way you’re going, man and you will fucking get it.” He asked again, “What is your fucking problem?”
“No problem, Tugboat. We were just making sure the ladies were certain of their welcome. No disrespect, man.” That was the man who’d thrown Jess’ hat on the ground, he bent over now and retrieved it, holding it out towards her. Brandy intercepted, grabbing it from his hand, angered to see him touching any part of Jess, even something as innocent as her hat. She ground her teeth and her hand tightened around it, crushing it in her fist.
“Then if there’s no problem, you won’t mind moving on,” Slate said, folding his arms across his chest, stepping between the women and the men. Without looking away from the leader, he addressed Tug, “You got this, brother?”
“Fuck yeah, I got this,” was the response and Slate turned his back on the two groups, moving to face Brandy and Jess. His voice softened when he spoke to them, “Y’all bring dessert, Brandy?” He sniffed and made a show of rolling his eyes. “Goddamn that van smells good. How the hell both of you are so fucking tiny is beyond me. If I had to work around this good smellin’ shit all day, I’d weigh a ton.”
Brandy laughed, “And you’d still be good lookin’.”
He reached out and cupped a hand behind Brandy’s neck, pulling her close for a hug. “Brown Sugar Brandy, you okay, babe?” he whispered into her ear and she nodded, saying softly, “Yeah.”
He stepped back and looked down at their hands, smiling at their fingers still twined together. “Jess, you okay, honey?”
Brandy turned around in time to see a bright blush working its way up Jess’ face, coloring her cheeks and then the tips of her ears. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay.” She pulled at Brandy’s hand and without letting go, brought Brandy toward her. “Can I have my hat back, Brand?”
She brought the toque up and pressed it into the hand she was still holding, then freed Jess, smiling privately when the hold appeared reluctantly released. “Here you go.” Turning to look behind Slate, she realized the other group of men had disappeared and the Rebels were already walking back towards them. “I have quite a few boxes to take inside for the party. Do you think you guys could help out?”
Slate nodded and whistled, drawing the attention of the Rebels. “Tote and carry, boys. Let’s get these ladies inside and out of the cold.” He nodded an apparent question at Tug who was wiping his hand with a bandana, and received a brusque nod in return. Smiling grimly, he moved to reach into the van, pulling out the first stack of boxes. “We got this, Brandy. Why don’t you and Jess go on inside? Merry is already in there getting everything set up.” Merry was a long-time waitress and bartender at Jackson’s, and a friend to both of the women.
Inside the bar, everyone pitched in, setting up tables and generally getting ready for a big, informal party. The irony of the set-up wasn’t lost on Brandy and she snorted a laugh that Jess heard, causing her to tilt her head and ask, “What?”
“If you’d told me two years ago that I’d be excitedly waiting to exchange secret Santa gifts with a bunch of bikers, I’d have checked you for a head injury.” She laughed, shaking her head. “This is pretty remarkable, though. It’s cool that Mason organized all of this, that he’d put together a party for the Rebels and us. I’ve never felt safer than when we’re hanging out with them, and they are all sweet, amazing guys.”
“Glad to hear you think so, babe,” she heard a deep voice say from behind her and watched as Jess ran around her, squealing with happiness.
She turned to see Mason with his arms wrapped around Jess’ shoulders, his cheek laid on top of her head while he smiled at Brandy. Holding out his other hand, he reached and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her into an embrace, slipping his arm around her shoulders, too. “Hey Mason,” she said fondly. “I brought both the truffles and custard-filled cupcakes for you. Just you, mind,” she scolded, looking over where Slate was standing, a cupcake already in his hand. He shrugged, shoving the cake into his mouth and holding out his hands in a ‘who me’ motion, and they all laughed.
A couple hours later she was sitting on a stool at the bar, resting her elbows on the edge. Merry had set a perfectly dirty martini in front of her a few minutes ago and she sipped it gratefully. Looking down the bar, she saw Jess in deep conversation with Tug and smiled. Those two were the biggest jokers in the room, and seeing them having a serious discussion was a mystery. She heard the stool on her other side pulled back, and turned to see Slate seating himself. Nodding at him, she picked up her glass and looked back at Jess, freezing when both she and Tug were staring at her.
Quickly turning back to Slate, she caught a look of amusement on his face and he shook his head at her. Picking up his beer, he paused with the edge of the bottle at his lips and asked, “Why don’t you just tell her how you feel, sweetheart?”
Brandy looked down at the bar top and shook her head. “She’s not the girl for me, unfortunately.” She looked up, using the mirror to watch Jess, smiling softly at the play of emotions across the woman’s face.
“You can’t know that if you haven’t made your play, woman.” He caught her eyes in the mirror. “You could talk to her tonight, I set the bedroom in the back aside for you when you started drinking, so you ain’t going anywhere any time soon, sweetheart. Tug’s got your keys and he’s under orders to keep you safe, which means you don’t leave until he says so. You could invite her to the back…just sayin’.”
“I don’t want to lose her friendship.” She shook her head. “It’s not worth the risk.”
He held out his left arm, pushing his shirt sleeve up to his elbow and smoothed his skin with his hand, drawing her attention to the tattoo there. “Never let your fear decide your fate,” he said, reading the words inked on his skin next to a beautifully detailed compass. “What if you’re wrong, sweetheart? What if you could have both?” he asked, looking past her, then back at her face. Smiling, he stood from the stool and in a sing-song voice said, “I know something you don’t know.”
“What?” she asked and then balled up her napkin, throwing it at him as he walked away without answering her question. “Asshole,” she called after him and heard a snort of laughter behind her.
Turning she saw Mason had walked up and was standing between her and Tug. He didn’t look at her directly, like Slate had, he caught her gaze in the mirror. “Thanks for this, babe. It’s been a good night.”
“Yeah, it’s been fun to watch everyone open their gifts, and have a good time.” She fingered her new earrings. “Who knew Red had such good taste in jewelry.” She tilted her head, looking at him. “Did you like your boots? I have the receipt, if you want to return them.”
He shook his head, reaching out to pat the back of her hand lying on the bar top. “They fit perfectly, babe. Thank you. Boots are a pain in the ass to buy, mostly because I just fucking hate shopping. I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.” She smiled, and they both turned to look across the bar when shouts of laughter erupted near the pool tables.
“Looks like Mica’s cleaning up again. Poor Digger, he won’t have any money left after tonight.” She smiled, peeking over his shoulder to see if she could catch a glimpse of Jess, but Tug was standing alone now. Sighing, she leaned on the bar and picked up her glass. Taking a drink, she met Mason’s gaze in the mirror again. “It’s been a good party, Mason.”
He nodded, pushing away from the bar. “Yeah, brothers and friends are important. It’s good to remember that, keep ‘em close, and Christmas gives us a good excuse.”
She watched him stalk over towards where Mica was schooling one of the Rebels in the fine art of eight-ball. The tall biker was standing close to Mica, but with a glance to his president, Digger stepped away, nervously twisting the stick in his hands.
Mason stopped short of where they were playing and he leaned against the wall, his eyes hungrily following every move Mica made, his body language loud and clear. Brandy shook her head, the man had it bad for her. None of the Rebels she’d talked to knew why he didn’t just make a move, because they were all relatively sure Mica’d be open to an offer from the authoritative biker.
He was influential and powerful, and Brandy thought he’d probably be dominant in bed. But, she mused, maybe that was what kept Mica separate from him, her history might not lend itself to exploring that side of things again…not just now, but maybe ever.
Holding her hand over the top of her glass when Merry would have refilled it, she turned on the stool, leaning both elbows on the wooden edge, surveying the room. There were little groups of men scattered throughout the bar, without exception they all wore leather or denim vests with a variety of patches sewn to the material. Most had the name of the motorcycle club at the top of their back, and the emblem that represented the club just below that. Some of the men had town names across the bottom of their vests, and some had other words like ‘Prospect’, ‘Gypsy’, or ‘National’ that designated their position in the club.
She saw Tug was now seated in a booth by himself and climbed off the stool, walking over and sitting beside him. He scooted over to give her room, sliding his arm across the back of the bench and curved it around her shoulders. He hugged her tightly for a minute, loudly kissing the side of her head, then he sat back and looked down at her. “Having a good time, pretty lady?”
“I am,” she said with a smile. “What did you get from your Santa?” She patted his thigh and leaned into his side, relaxing in the safety of his embrace.
“Got a new wallet. It’s pretty cool, lookit.” He shifted, pulling the wallet from his back pocket, twisting the chain that attached to his belt loop out of the way, showing her the tooling on the leather.
Smiling she nodded, “Who was your Santa?”
“Tats,” he laughed. “The man did good, but he got shortchanged, his Santa got him fringed gloves. Can you see that man wearing fringed riding gloves?”
“Oh no,” she said with a grin. “Who was his Santa?”
Tug laughed harder, “Me.”
Throwing her head back and laughing hard, she told him, “You are an evil, evil man.” He nodded in agreement and picked up his beer, taking a drink.
She felt a pressure on her side and turned to look, seeing Jess squeezing onto the bench beside her. “Scooch over, woman,” Jess said, pushing on her hip with her own. Tug shifted, and Brandy moved with him, making room for Jess at the end of the seat.
Tug complained, “There was a whole other seat over there, girl. You didn’t have to work so hard at squishing me.”
Wrapping her hand around Brandy’s wrist, she pulled her hand over, threading their fingers together. “Yeah, but then I couldn’t sit next to my hero.”
Tug nodded, “She was damned fierce in the lot, wasn’t she? Ready to take that fucktard on all by herself.”
“She was,” Jess agreed, her hand helping warm Brandy’s suddenly-freezing fingers. “She got right up in that dude’s face. Called him out for picking on little, old me.”
Brandy turned her head back and forth, following the conversation with a grin on her face.
“Not the smartest thing she could have done,” he said, leaning forward to look across Brandy at Jess. “But fierce. Protecting her own. Gotta respect that, right?”
“Yeah, she was protecting me,” Jess said, a note of surprise in her voice that made Brandy wonder how much she’d had to drink so far tonight. “Does that mean—Tug, does that mean I could be hers?”
God, I wish, she thought, licking her lips.
“Might do so, little one,” he said softly, turning to look into Brandy’s face. “Might mean just that, honey.”
Jess leaned into her side, and Brandy shivered at the contact, her breath rapid and shallow and she bit her lips, closing her eyes. She felt an absence on her other side, and opened her eyes to find Tug extricating himself from the booth, climbing over the back of the high-backed bench. He smiled at her and nodded as he swung his legs over, leaving her and Jess sitting alone in the booth.
Resting her head on Brandy’s shoulder, Jess wiggled in the seat, making herself more comfortable and opening her mouth in a wide yawn. “I’m getting tired,” she complained, “Mica had us in the office early today, getting a presentation ready for some douche that didn’t even show for his meeting.” She yawned again, and Brandy made a sympathetic noise. She didn’t think she could speak coherently right now if she’d tried.
“Tug said we’re staying here tonight,” Jess rubbed her cheek up and down on Brandy’s collarbone, lightly smacking her lips before yawning again.
Nodding in agreement, Brandy was acutely aware of every inch of Jess’ body that was touching hers. From the soft skin between her fingers, the pad of her thumb tracing slowly back and forth across the sensitive inside of Brandy’s wrist, to her strong arm draped across Brandy’s thigh. Jess’ hip, pressed against hers where she rested on the seat, the heat from her body where her side lay along Brandy’s ribs. Jess’ head softly resting on her shoulder, her hair tickling the bare skin of her neck and jaw.
“Do you know which room Tug meant?” Jess asked quietly.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Want me to show you?”
Slowly peeling herself from Brandy’s side, Jess stood but kept their hands twined together. Nodding, she said, “Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”
Brandy looked up at her, wondering if Jess knew what she was implying, and then the woman smiled at her and she knew…knew that this feeling was happening on both sides, that Jess wanted her, too. Standing, she looked down at Jess, raising her unencumbered hand to cup the face she’d wanted to touch for so long, leaning in to dust her lips gently across Jess’. Pulling back to gauge the reaction, she was gratified to see Jess’ eyes closed, lashes resting on her cheeks, lips parted in a smile.
Walking towards the door set in the wall behind the bar, Brandy became aware of a stillness in the bar, and she turned to see many of the men were watching them. Slate raised two fingers to his brow, saluting her with a grin before he turned back to the group of men he was standing with. After his acknowledgment of their departure, the noise level gradually rose to normal levels again. Then they were through the door, and Jess was closing it softly behind them, shutting out the sounds from the party.
Is this really happening? she thought, remembering her lapse in the shop that afternoon. Then she felt Jess’ hand cupping around her arm, sliding up and down slowly, sensuously touching her and affecting her equilibrium. “Brandy?” she heard the question in Jess’ voice and answered her softly.
“Yeah?” I’m so off balance, she thought. I just want to love her.
“You want this, right?” The hesitation and uncertainty in Jess’ tone nearly broke her heart, and she quickly turned, dropping Jess’ hand to cup her palms to both of the woman’s cheeks.
“Oh, yeah, I do. More than you know.” The last syllables were spoken on an outrush of breath against Jess’ lips, then she brushed her mouth across softly, gently. Keeping the kiss slow, exploring the taste and feel she’d longed for, she paused to drag her nose up Jess’ then back down, then hungrily captured that addictive mouth with hers again. She smiled when the lips parted effortlessly underneath the gentle pressure, and taking advantage of the opening, she dipped her tongue inside, twisting and twirling with Jess’. She groaned at hearing now desperate gasps for breath that came from the woman she wanted for her lover.
Stepping back, she reached down, clasping Jess’ hand again and drew her up the hallway to the first door on the left. “Bedroom,” she said, hearing the catch in her own voice.
Leaving the light off, she closed and locked the door behind them, pulling Jess towards the bed sitting in the middle of the room. Tugging her shirt off, she tossed it onto the chair along the wall and reached out to grasp the hem of Jess’ shirt, pulling it up and off.
Stepping closer, she pressed her body against Jess, gasping as the woman’s hands wrapped around her, unfamiliar but so familiar fingers unfastening her bra so that it fell loosely down her arms. Dropping it to the floor, she slowly and carefully removed Jess’ bra, trailing her fingers and thumbs across the now-exposed breasts, pulling and tugging on already erect nipples. Moving closer again, she kissed Jess, their naked torsos rubbing and pressing against the other.
In the low light cast underneath the door from the hallway, Brandy could barely see Jess’ face, but could still read the lust written there, and she sighed. “Jess, baby,” she said, feeling the sudden motionlessness as Jess stilled underneath her hands. “I don’t want to lose your friendship.”
Clearing her throat, Jess said hesitantly, “Okay.”
The single word didn’t give Brandy enough to go on, and she repeated herself. “I can’t lose you as a friend, you mean too much to me.”
Jess turned her head to the side, and Brandy could only see portions of her face, the angle of her cheekbone, the downturned edge of her mouth. Lifting her hand, she trailed her thumb across Jess’ lips, leaning in to kiss her softly. “I want this, so much. God I want it. But I want to be able to keep you in my life more.”
“So you think this is a one-time thing?” The words and tone were harsh, and Brandy dragged in a painful breath. Jess continued, “Brandy if this is the alcohol talking; then we can just share a bed like we’ve done in the past. Nothing has to happen, baby. Not if you don’t want it.”
Shaking her head, Brandy rushed to reassure her, the words stumbling off her tongue. “No, no. I want this. I’ve wanted you for so long…wanted this. I just don’t want to ruin what we already have.” She wrapped her arms around Jess, pulling their bodies close, palms slipping up and down her back.
Jess lifted her head, looking at Brandy steadily. “You already have me.”
Burying her head in Jess’ neck, she took a couple of unsteady breaths, senses stolen by those four words.
Unfastening the closure on Jess’ pants, Brandy pushed them down her thighs, taking her panties with them. They both laughed when her legs were shackled by the jeans because they’d forgotten the existence of her winter boots, and Brandy knelt on the floor beside the bed, slipping them off.
Moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to Jess, she watched as the pants were discarded, then her own hands slowed as Jess crawled up into the bed, wagging her naked ass back and forth temptingly. Shaking her head in amusement, Brandy rushed to disrobe and slid up into the bed beside Jess, shivering as their skin met and brushed against each other all along their bodies.
Brandy trailed her fingertips up Jess’ stomach, looking down to see the stark contrast between her dark and Jess’ light skin, rapt at the sight as her hand slid up and up, the edge of her palm grazing a soft breast, fingers spreading wide to cup and caress. Jess moaned softly and Brandy moved to capture her mouth again, eating down the sounds Jess made as she touched her, discovering all the places that made her lover crazy with desire, the things that set her twisting underneath Brandy’s hands and mouth.
She slipped her leg between Jess’, pressing hard against the apex of her thighs, encouraging Jess to thrust and rub as she wanted…needed. Brandy kept her hands and mouth busy stroking Jess’ breasts and neck, trailing kisses up her jaw to bite at her lips until she was breathless and crying out from the teasing touches and the friction against her clit.
Sliding down Jess’ body, she moved between her legs, kissing down her chest and soft belly. Drawing a laugh when she dipped her tongue into Jess’ bellybutton, she nipped and bit from hip to hip, her hands pressing those pale thighs apart. She shifted Jess’ legs, propping her heels on her shoulders, pushing them wide, so she was open to her.
Running her hands along Jess’ inner thighs, she trailed her fingertips from the back of her knees up to where her legs joined her body, following every touch with a slow lick and a soft, sucking kiss. Using her thumbs, she spread the bared pussy and darted her tongue just inside the entrance, lapping and nibbling, working her way up and down, taking her time to bring Jess to the edge of orgasm several times. Brandy’s fingers plunged deep, dragging the sweet wetness she found there up to where her mouth waited, sucking, and nibbling on Jess’ clit.
Feeling Jess’ hands smoothing across her forehead and cheeks, she lifted her gaze, looking up along Jess’ body to see her face, eyes wide and unfocused, mouth open with groaning, panting breaths and Brandy smiled. Dropping her face back to Jess’ pussy, she buried her mouth, using her lips, tongue, teeth, and fingers to urge Jess to that place of stillness just before the explosion. That instant where the chasing…the frantic seeking is over, and all that’s left is to ride the roller coaster down.
Feeling that moment when things began to crash in on Jess, she thrust her fingers in deep, curling and twisting them inside her lover, her tongue stroking rapidly across the perceptibly thrumming clit under her mouth. She heard Jess’ voice calling her name, the sound hanging on the air and without thought she pushed one hand down underneath her own body, fingers finding her clit. Tugging and pulling, hips pumping and thrusting against the mattress, she came hard, hand trapped between her heat and the softness of the bed, lips and other hand still working Jess’ pussy, drawing out both their climaxes as far as possible.
Resting her cheek against Jess’ thigh in the aftermath, she licked her lips as she watched the tension leave her lover’s features. In the low light she saw as Jess slowly gained the loose, relaxed look of a well-loved woman, and Brandy smiled again. I love how she looks right in this moment, she thought. Moving up in the bed to lie beside Jess, she pulled the woman into her side, arranging her head and rolling to press her lips against Jess’ forehead.
“That was amazing,” she whispered, her eyelids dipping and slipping closed. Sighing, she murmured, “Merry Christmas, Jess.” Distantly she was aware of Jess shifting to pull the covers up and over them both, then settling back into her place at Brandy’s side, she felt the soft kisses Jess placed across her shoulder and up her neck.
“Yeah, it was,” Jess whispered back. “Merry Christmas, babe.”
In the hallway outside, Mason straightened from where he’d paused, leaning against the wall, a soft smile on his face. If the sounds that he’d overheard from inside the bedroom were any indication, the two women he’d watched dancing around each other for months had finally come together with spectacular results.
Through the open door, he saw Mica still circulating through the men in the bar, and he sighed. Watching as she looked around the room, then smiled brightly when she spotted him, lifting her hand in a quick wave, he thought to himself, Merry Fucking Christmas to all of us.
2014 © MariaLisa deMora