Sadie scooted back toward the headboard and pillows, wincing a little as she moved. No wonder. She’d been resting on her haunches for a while, and although Anne knew yoga kept Sadie plenty limber, there were limits to what a fifty-six-year-old body could handle without having to pay for it later.
“No, thank you,” Sadie said with a soft, reassuring smile. “I’m very satisfied. That was more than enough for me tonight.”
A little sting of disappointment pricked Anne, but it faded quickly under the larger flood of her overwhelming satisfaction.Tonight, Sadie had said, which meant there would be other nights. Every day had a night. Every day now had possibility.
In the comfortable quiet that followed, she pulled up her joggers, then joined Sadie against the pillows for some much-needed back support, still shirtless. The cool air across her skin felt soothing.
She looked out the window that faced away from the motel and toward the vast desert. At the few stars she could see from this angle. At the sky she’d called out to, the threshold of the great mystery Anne had been taught as a child was the deep veil between this life and the next.
Under the stars, she’d been so damn raw. Now, in their motel room, she felt just as raw, but in a wholly different way: peeled and tender with relief. She’d arrived here late, yes, and maybe in the days ahead she’d figure out why it had taken so long to get here. Or whereherewas, when you got down to it. In the aftermath of what she’d just done with Sadie, though, the lateness seemed less important, suddenly, then the arrival itself.
Call it the universe, call it heaven, call it understanding. In childhood, Anne had believed in a separate and unknowable sphere. She’d hoped that one day she’d go there and discover what her parents’ Lutheran minister had calledthe perfect fullness of grace. The ultimate salvation.
But Anne knew now that she’d been wrong. That sphere wasn’t somewhere separate she’d travel after death.
It was mercy, it was right here, and maybe she could bring it to herself.
Anne leaned her head against the crook of Sadie’s shoulder, ignoring the sharp pull in her neck.
She felt Sadie turn toward her and press a gentle kiss into her hair, the kind of kiss that lingered, that asked to stay a while. Then, as sleep began to claim her, there was only Sadie, all Sadie, with her mouth against the top of Anne’s head, her breath warm and even, the sweetness of it spreading into Anne’s dreams.
Chapter 11
Warm, red morning light on the lids of her eyes. Then Anne opened them.
Everything loomed into focus immediately: the cracked wall of the motel room and what they’d done. What she’d done.
The enormity of it stunned Anne. She stayed still on her side of the bed underneath the sheets, a brand new resident in an alien world.
Where was the panic? The fear? The recoil?You just had a sexual encounter with your female best friend. You’re different from everyone else, just like you were always terrified you’d be.
If you keep moving forward with this, your entire life will change.
All undeniably true. But she searched herself and found—at least right at that moment—only amazement and want. For the very first time in her life, Anne’s body and brain had been mastered by a need so demanding that her only purpose now was to feed it.
Sadie was asleep, turned away from Anne, her hair a wild nest on the pillow. She was still wearing the dress she’d had on—they’d fallen asleep before they could change for bed—and the yellow linen fabric was just as crumpled as the sheets.
Any second now, Sadie could wake up, turn over, and look at Anne. Would her face still be glazed over with sleep? Would she smile at Anne, that beautiful, bright smile?
Or would she look at Anne—who was still topless—and flush with fresh arousal?
Yesterday, Anne had learned that desire stammered first in her chest and shoulders before spreading elsewhere. Now, in the still-quiet morning, she pressed her palm against her sternum.The cool pressure felt good against bare, warm skin. Beneath the sheets, she curled her legs further in, then stretched them back out, restless now as she began to spin her fantasy.
Maybe when Sadie opened her eyes, they’d burn with her frustration. After all, she hadn’t had any release last night, and no matter what she’d said about finding satisfaction, she’d still be strung tight.
You need it, too,Anne would whisper, looking into Sadie’s face, a mirror.
This time, they might try something else. Not in bed, but with Anne’s back thumped up against the wall as they kissed, Sadie’s hands grabbing her ass and pulling her in. The sound of Sadie’s needy gasp, a hot arrow splitting up and through Anne.
Clutching at Sadie, breaking the kiss, she’d begin to beg.Want to feel you,come on, please,and what she’d meant to say would start breaking too, into a fragment that exposed what she really wanted:Come—please—Incoherent. Obvious, not caring. Sadie’s gasp against her cheek.
In the quiet of the morning, Sadie was still fast asleep next to Anne.
For the second time in twelve hours, Anne sucked two fingers, then pushed them below the waistband of her joggers.
Last night, she’d felt an ache like a weight between her thighs, so heavy it almost hurt. Did Sadie get like that, too? What if Anne nudged her leg right up into the loose center of Sadie’s dress?
Her mind spun. Sadie would beg something wordless into the curve of Anne’s neck and, at the same time, rub down onto Anne’s thigh. Anne would feel her heat, even through their layers of clothing, and Sadie might groan at first contact, too far gone already to do anything but chase relief. Into Anne’s ear, fragmented, desperate:I’m going to come, Anne; you’ll make me come just like this—