Part 11 (1/2)
”Instead of running away to places unknown, where you'll have to start over again and constantly look over your shoulder, why don't you wait a few days more? I can talk with Bryan and my father for advice on your situation without telling them who you are. If they're aware a dangerous person maybe heading here to do one of our own harm, they'll take care of it.”
”One of their own?” Deborah asked uncertain.
Bridgette's lips tilted up and she took both of Deborah's hands in hers. ”Yes, you're one of us, part of the community. I'll do whatever I can to keep you safe,” Bridgette added, her voice growing hard.
Deborah wished she had half of Bridgette's strength and the belief that everything would turn out all right. She didn't, but kept that to herself. Instead, she'd do what Bridgette requested and enjoy the time they had together.
If only she could get over the feeling she was being watched.
Bridgette swiped a finger down Deborah's nose, where it was damp with sweat. ”You know what? I think we should get out of this heat. You must be frying and I'm ready to wilt. How about we go back to my house where I can make you lunch and we can talk about our next move?”
”Our next move?” Deborah asked and wiped her face. She grimaced as her hands came away wet. ”I must smell rank. Maybe a shower first, then food?”
Bridgette hopped lightly on her feet, her curls bobbing. Deborah would never get tired of seeing them. She reached out to wrap a curl around her finger. Bridgette kissed her softly on her chin, and as Deborah went to give her a kiss on her mouth, she moved back.
”Shower first, Miss Sweaty. Food, planning, then more kissing.” Bridgette's eyes twinkled.
Deborah finally relaxed her shoulders; they'd been knotted for days. ”Let's go home,” she said, and when they grabbed her bags and walked in the direction toward their street, she couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes watching her-even though she didn't notice anyone lurking around. She did her best to shrug away that feeling until they both were close enough to hear a familiar dog barking and to see the house that gave her a sense of belonging.
Chapter Sixteen.
Deborah took a shower while Bridgette went back over to her house to check on Rotquel. After was.h.i.+ng the grime and sweat away, she combed her hair and put on a different pair of underwear, khaki shorts, bra, and a loose-fitting pink tank top. She walked downstairs when she heard a knock on the front door and after looking through the peephole, she opened it. Bridgette stood on her porch holding two brown paper bags.
”I was just going to come over,” Deborah replied and almost fumbled the bags as Bridgette pa.s.sed them over to her.
”I thought we could eat here instead.” Bridgette walked in, gave Deborah a quick kiss on the mouth, and tugged on the hem of her s.h.i.+rt. ”Pink really looks good on you.”
Swallowing a laugh, Deborah closed her front door. ”I'd always like the color pink, but my wife hated it...sorry, you must be sick of hearing me talk about her.”
Bridgette patted Deborah's cheek. ”Unless you don't want to talk about her, I don't care. Remember, I'm here for you, to listen to what you have to say.”
Deborah walked into the kitchen and put the bags on the table. She was still somewhat unnerved by the way Bridgette acted so calm about everything she'd told her. ”You're too good to be true. Another woman would run far away from all the baggage I have.”
”By now you should know I'm not like other women, Deb. Is it all right if I call you that?” Bridgette asked as she pulled out the various food items they'd have for lunch.
”I don't mind.” Deborah responded, and as she walked past Bridgette to go over the refrigerator, she stopped and gave Bridgette's cheek a soft caress with her knuckles. ”And I do see you're not like other women, at least the ones I know. Thanks...for being my friend.”
”You'd better think of me as a friend.” Bridgette said and began setting the table.
Deborah almost kissed her, but opened the refrigerator instead, closing her eyes and allowing the cool, crisp air to rush over her face. When she glanced down at her chest, she softly cursed upon seeing her nipples where hard. It wasn't from the refrigerator but something else-most likely the look of desire in Bridgette's eyes. Deborah had noticed it the moment she walked in the house: a look she couldn't get enough of and wanted to see as she lay on top of her, naked and spent from their lovemaking.
They ate and talked about her situation. When their sandwiches and chips were devoured, their conversation led to simpler things, such as when Deborah would begin painting the rooms in her house.
”I was going to start my painting project, but then I decided to leave town.” Deborah pushed back the bangs that had fallen over her forehead. ”I want to do the kitchen, then the bathroom. I'm also thinking my bedroom, but I'm not sure now if the color will work.”
Bridgette tapped her fingers on top of the table. Deborah found this habit-her quirk-cute. She almost grabbed hold of Bridgette's hand, but held back. She was so confused about what she felt for Bridgette. The one thing they still needed to discuss was the night she'd accused Bridgette of rape. At one point they'd have to talk about it, to clear the air.
”Would you like a second opinion? I can check out your bedroom and tell you if the paint is the right color,” Bridgette offered as she stood.
”Sure. I'd appreciate your opinion.” Deborah led the way.
As they reached the landing, a loud sound of thunder erupted around them. Deborah flinched and glanced back at Bridgette. ”I hate these sudden summer storms.”
”I don't mind them. I think they're s.e.xy.” Bridgette replied and rubbed Deborah's arm as they went into her bedroom.
”You're sure you don't want to check on Rotquel? Don't dogs get upset by thunder and lightning?” Deborah walked over to the open window and watched the trees and power lines sway from the bl.u.s.tery wind. A flash of lightning appeared overhead and the greenish-gray clouds in the sky churned. A few drops of rain came down, and when Bridgette stood next to her, it started to pour.
”Rotquel will be okay. She usually naps this time of day.” Bridgette bounced on her feet. ”I love this...wildness.”
”A storm like this makes you want to be wild?” Deborah lightly joked and rested her cheek against the window pane as the rain soaked the ground. It slashed down sideways and hit her in the face, cooling her off even more.
Bridgette's arms came around her and she rested her chin against her upper arm. ”Yes, it does. I always had a fantasy of making love outside in the rain.”
Me too. Deborah turned her face down to Bridgette, who looked up at her. ”What other naughty fantasies do you have, Ridge?” Deborah twisted one of her bouncy curls around her fingers.
”You and I making love in your bed over there, feeling your body on top of mine as I make you come,” Bridgette whispered and placed her lips over Deborah's.
The soft pull of Bridgette's mouth against hers made her nipples tighten even more and her inner thighs throb. How could she want Bridgette this way when she had so many issues to still work out?
She broke the kiss and moved away until she sat down on the bed. She looked down at her hands and shook her head in despair. ”Bridgette, I-I'm broken inside. The night we were together and almost made love should prove to you no good can come of us being together. What if-”
”Shh.” Bridgette placed the pad of her finger over Deborah's mouth and knelt down in front of her.
”I can't help but want you, to be with you. And it looks like you want the same thing,” she said and moved in closer to cup Deborah's face.
Deborah twisted her head away. ”You don't understand. I don't want you to think I'm using you as a rebound. My feelings for Gen are still here.” Deborah covered her heart. ”I have so much to work through before I can jump head first into another relations.h.i.+p.”
Bridgette nodded and rested her palms up on Deborah's knees. Deborah placed her palms on top of hers and wiped her cheek against her shoulder were a tear had escaped her eye.
”I want to help you get over whatever you need to get through.”
”With s.e.x?” Deborah joked and jumped when another boom of thunder went off.
”Why not?” Bridgette asked and moved her face in close until their noses brushed. ”Kissing and touching can be the best medicine.”
”That's a line if I ever heard one.” Deborah lifted an eyebrow and leaned back on her elbows.
”Better than talking about paint and a woman who never deserved you to begin with.”
Deborah opened her mouth to argue when Bridgette pushed her down and straddled her. She went still as Bridgette licked her lips. Before her eyes, Bridgette pulled off her own tank top. She wore no bra since her top had a built-in one. Deborah's mouth started to water. Bridgette's nipples were large and full, a dark cherry shade that had her longing to lick and roll with her fingers.
”Oops, sorry.” Bridgette climbed off of her and lay on her side. Deborah moaned from her loss.
”Why'd you get off of me?” Deborah asked and turned, facing Bridgette, bringing her hands under her chin so she wouldn't grab hold of Bridgette's b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
”I didn't want you to feel uncomfortable since you told me you were always the bottom and never the top.” Bridgette lay on her back and lifted her arms over her head. ”I'm offering myself to you, for you to do whatever you want to me.”