edge I’d been flirting with and yet paradoxically trying to avoid since the moment I unzipped my jeans. I came so hard I couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I didn’t let myself go-there was no choice involved-I simply went, plunging headlong into bliss.
And that’s when the screen fell out of the window.
I’d been pressing on it so hard, it was no wonder. The springs that held it in just gave way and, if I hadn’t caught myself, I would have fallen too. It wasn’t a high fall, but it would have been an embarrassing one, considering that my hand was still plunged into the front of my unzipped jeans. It was embarrassing enough as it was as Carrie scrambled to grab her bikini top, tying it quickly on, and I zipped and tucked and yelled out some sort of apology across the yard.
It was Jezebel who gave me an excuse. I used her wanton lust to defend my own, claiming that it was our cat who had knocked out the screen. She’d been sitting quietly next to me on the sill the whole while, occasionally licking a fat, black paw and rubbing it over one velvety ear, the only other witness to our sin. Jezebel looked askance at me when I offered her up as a sacrifice, her expression even more indignant than usual.
“It should just pop right back in.” The blond walked across her yard and into mine, bending down to pick up the screen. “I’ve knocked ours out a couple times.”
“Thanks.” I took it awkwardly, shoving the sheet-curtain aside as I brought it through the window and dropped it next to the bed. As the screen passed between us, our hands touched-hers sleek and smelling of coconut and mine still wet with my juices, although I’d hastily wiped my hand on my jeans-and she smiled. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“I was just working on my tan.” She glanced over to the blanket she’d been touching herself on and then looked back at me. Did she know I’d been watching?
“Want to join me?”
“I-” I searched for some excuse. I didn’t want to embarrass myself any further. “I don’t own a bikini.”
“You can borrow one of mine, if you want. I was only wearing half of one anyway.” She grinned, adjusting her bikini top. She didn’t even flush-but I did. “I’m Carrie Baumgartner, by the way. Nice to meet you, neighbor.”
“Danielle Stuart,” I replied. “They call me Dani.”
“Come on, Dani.” She waved me out, as if the decision had already been made.
“Let’s get some sun together.”
And that was how it began.
Chapter One
We spent a week in our backyard-and I thought of it as “ours” by then, connected as it was-soaking up the last of the summer sun, Carrie in a black bikini and me wearing a modest one-piece, red with little white polka dots. I wasn’t there for the sun and I think she knew it, although we spent that first week chatting about our husbands, campus life and our families-or lack thereof. Carrie had moved around from foster home to foster home as a kid, and hadn’t had anything like a “real” family until she married Doc (“His name’s Steve, but everyone calls him ‘Doc,’ even me,” Carrie said) who I had yet to meet. That was another thing we had in common-husbands who were hardly ever home, although for vastly different reasons.
“He works so hard.” Carrie sighed, turning her face to me on the blanket. She was on her belly, top undone, her hair curling at the edges with oil. No matter how much I showered that week, I went to bed smelling like coconuts and I inevitably dreamed of Carrie Baumgartner’s tanned flesh. I was more than halfway crushing on her already.
“You have to respect a man who loves what he does for a living. But I do miss him.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I know what you mean.” And I did, although missing Mason didn’t leave me with stars in my eyes like missing Doc did for her. While her husband was doing his residency at the University of Michigan teaching hospital, mine was…well, I wasn’t quite sure what he was doing most of the time. Hanging out in basements with his friends, rolling many-sided dice and conjuring spirits, most likely. It sounded too ridiculous to even mention, even if we were four years younger than they were, so I just kept my mouth shut.
“Where did the sun go?” She craned her slim neck to see the sky, giving me a dizzying view of her cleavage. I could see the dark flower of her areolas and could almost glimpse their center. “Is it going to rain?”
“It better not rain on our last week of sunshine.” I screwed up my face and stuck my middle finger up at the darkening clouds. “Classes start Monday.”
“Oh that’s right, I almost forgot.” She turned her face back, rubbing her cheek against the blanket. Carrie had her undergraduate degree in something, but she hadn’t decided to go back for a graduate degree, so she was taking occasional classes while Doc finished up his residency. Me, I was kind of excited for classes to begin again-it would be my last year. Besides, my major was my passion and I missed not being immersed several hours a day in classrooms where only Italian was spoken.
A loud clap of thunder shook the ground beneath us and both our heads came up, eyes widening as our gaze met.
“Uh oh.” That was all I managed to get out before the skies opened and rained down on us. We both squealed, scrabbling for the blanket and our clothes. The t-shirt and shorts in my hands were already damp just in the time it took us to get to the Baumgartners’ back door. Carrie pressed me inside, still topless, and pulled the screen door shut behind us. Lightning struck a tree in the woods and we both screamed and clutched each other, seeing the brief spark of a flame and then smoke. It was pouring, the splash of the rainwater wetting our faces through the screen.
“That was fast!” She closed the door as I moved fully into their kitchen. The apartment was the same layout as ours was, as they all were, the kitchen making the short part of an “L” that turned the corner into a living room. There was a bedroom off the kitchen, and I glanced in to confirm that, yes, there was a queen sized bed in there.
Carrie and Doc’s bedroom. Another door beyond that was closed-the second bedroom. We had one, too.
“I need a shower.” Carrie slipped past me into her bedroom, turning on a light. It was like night outside now, the rain pelting the roof. I hesitated in the doorway. I’d never been in their apartment before. We always met in the yard. She hooked her thumbs in her bikini bottoms, glancing back at me as she slid them down her hips. There was no guile or self-consciousness in her look, but watching her made my mouth go dry. “You want to take a shower?”
I just nodded, not trusting my voice, and followed her as she walked naked toward the bathroom. Just like our apartment, the bathroom was attached to the first bedroom. Anyone who wanted to use it had to go through, which always made me uncomfortable when we had guests. Whoever designed the place obviously didn’t have my anxiety about unmade beds. Carrie’s was made though, spotless, the comforter a lovely patchwork thing, pulled taut, the shams to match on pillows against the headboard. I ran a finger over one of the seams, a zigzag stitch.
I heard the shower start and glanced at the open bathroom door. I could see her leaning over, breasts swaying, to adjust the water, her bottom round and full and shockingly pale compared to the rest of her.
“Nice tan lines,” I commented and she made a face at me.
“If I didn’t think one of the nosy neighbors would call the cops, I’d take my bottoms off too.” She reached into the little closet and got out two big, fluffy light blue towels. They matched the shower curtain. I wasn’t about to tell her that I had been one of those nosy neighbors just days ago. “I hate tan lines.” She put the towels on the edge of the sink, glancing over at me. “Are you coming in? Don’t be shy-we’re both girls.”
When she’d asked me if I wanted a shower, I’d sort of hoped but hadn’t assumed that we’d be taking one together. Now that I was here, standing in the doorway of her bathroom with that question answered, I wasn’t so sure. Especially since I had to take off my bathing suit to make it happen.
“Come on,” she invited, turning fully toward me. “The water’s warm.” Jesus, she was beautiful. I dropped my eyes, trying not to stare, and glimpsed the short, tight blond curls between her thighs for the first time. That sight gave me a jolt but when she slid her arms around my neck, untying my suit at the neck, I thought I might melt into the floor.
“Wait.” I gulped as the top of my suit dropped to my waist, my breasts exposed to her view. I winced at the
