Anne throbbed again, the sound of Sadie’s unconcealed arousal working between her own legs like a greedy mouth. At the tip of her fingers, there was a rough spot, firm and ready under her touch.
She managed to remember how she’d done this to herself last night. Hooked her fingers into herself, and—oh, it was so similar, only her hand was inverted now, working away instead of inwards—
Immediately, Sadie’s hips stuttered.
“Yes,” she cried, like someone who’d just been discovered. “Yes, that’s per—ah, keep going. Close. I’m, I’m—”
She could climax again. If Sadie could fuck her right now, if Anne could take something inside her, anything, a tongue, fingers, a vibrator, she’d clench around it and get there a second time, undone from the perfect shock of Sadie so slick and full and hot on her hand, the noises Sadie made, and the desperate way she rubbed into Anne’s body, quick and animalistic.
“You’re—oh—I’m—”
“That’s it,” Anne whispered. “That’s it. Let me feel you do it—”
A burst of heat against her hand. Sadie thrust her hips forward, gasping as the shudder of her orgasm began to throb on Anne’s fingers. She threw back her head, hair tumbling around her shoulders, and let out a long, full-throated wail. She was utterly lost to it. She was glorious.
Anne watched, open-mouthed and pulsing.
When Sadie straightened her head, sighed, said, “Mmm,” Anne understood. She pulled back her wet hand, the withdrawalaccompanied by a pang of regret.It won’t be the last time, she reminded herself.I’ll get this again. I’ll haveheragain. Forever.
Carefully, Sadie moved to lie back down next to Anne and leaned her head against Anne’s shoulder, breathing loud enough for Anne to hear.
Finding Sadie’s left hand with her right, she threaded their fingers together, squeezing tight, and—oh. She could feel the remnants of her arousal on Sadie’s skin, sticky against her own.
For a few minutes, they snuggled without speaking, holding hands on the road back to coherence.
“Was I—?” Anne cleared her throat. Communication. Vulnerability. Shecoulddo this. “Was that all right? Should I have done anything differently?”
She turned her head to look at Sadie and saw the soft, sweet curve of her mouth, a curl that complemented the tendril of hair falling into her face.
“Not a thing,” Sadie said. “Not a single fucking thing.”
Anne felt herself blush, more with delight than embarrassment.
“We can try other ways, too. We have time,” she said and then realized that she meant it in more than one way. Yes, she was sixty. Yes, in some respects she’d been asleep her entire life to date, a reality that couldn’t be denied or erased. But Anne had broken through herself. She’d done it before the end. And no matter how much more sand spilled through the hourglass—days, months, years, decades—she’d have more time than if she’d never realized.
She had this right now.
Leaning forward, she kissed Sadie’s cheek, then the other, and the thought of where else her mouth could go lit a low flame. “Would you be interested, possibly, in another round? One where I get to, ah, taste you this time?”
“Anne Lowell,” Sadie exclaimed, clearly delighted. “You’re an insatiable creature, aren’t you? Yes a million times over. Feast away.”
Grinning, Anne moved down the bed, trading places with Sadie. But as she moved between Sadie’s spread legs, Sadie propped herself up against the headboard. “Before I lose the capacity to think, please remind me afterward that I just had an idea. Nothing to do with sex. But everything to do with you.”
“Do I get a clue?” Anne leaned down, her hands on either side of Sadie’s thighs. From here, she could smell Sadie. The strong fragrance of her arousal was intoxicating. “One word?”
“Youarethe clue,” Sadie said mysteriously. “Now, no more talk. Show me what else that gorgeous mouth of yours can do.”
Without a second’s hesitation, Anne did.
Chapter 24
Dinner that night was delivered from La Chingona Tacos: soy chorizo for Sadie, tilapia for Anne, and an order of guacamole and chips so massive that Sadie suggested it could take the place of the hill behind their houses.
Good thing, too. After three hours, two orgasms, and at least one position that would leave her leg muscles in need of ibuprofen tomorrow, Anne was absolutely ravenous.
Standing at the kitchen counter next to Sadie, clad in her Egyptian-cotton bathrobe with a brand-new salsa stain on the front lapel, she wolfed down two tacos, then part of a third more slowly, savoring the sauce. Almost as good as her Burger Bliss meal, although Anne had a feeling no culinary experience would match up to that one for a long, long time.
Sadie, wearing her pants and bra—no top, per Anne’s lascivious request—watched Anne as she ate her own tacos, grinning around mouthfuls.