Ghost Days, page 2
“So we had a long talk, and we decided the best choice was to ignore the ordinary thing, the normal way of life, and just do what makes sense for us. To make ourselves happy instead of trapping ourselves in a box. Do you know what he’ll be doing in Calgary when he’s not working?”
Garza shrugged.
Parrish put a hand next to her mouth, pretending to share a secret. “He’s looking for a man to take to bed. He likes to be on the bottom, receiving. He also likes to use his mouth.”
“Oh.” Garza’s discomfort skyrocketed. She cleared her throat and, for lack of anything more clever, said again, “Oh. And you’re fine with this?”
Parrish laughed softly, huskily. “You think I’m going to let him have all the fun? I find ways to keep myself busy when he’s on these business trips.”
Garza could feel her heart beating in her throat. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“Heh. Sometimes we do have sex, just like ordinary folk. I don’t mind it. He’s good at it, and he tends to focus a lot on me. It can be therapeutic. Stress relief. Like exercise. Almost mechanical, sometimes. Nothing to write home about but it gets the job done. Gets me where I need to go, if you know what I’m saying.”
“I know.”
“I’m sure you do,” Parrish said under her breath.
She leaned forward and crossed her arms on the front edge of Garza’s desk. The low collar of her shirt gaped just enough to show a hint of her cleavage, where droplets of sweat were highlighted by the desk lamp. She bit her bottom lip as she scanned Garza’s face.
“But sometimes I need more. It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten more. And I’m feeling the need. It’s like a burning inside me, and I know if I don’t take care of it soon, it’s gonna burn up all my insides. So that’s why I came to you, Miss Garza. Erika. You can give me what I want.”
Garza forced herself to meet Parrish’s unwavering gaze. “And what would that be?”
“I want you to fuck me like an animal.”
It wasn’t a request or an invitation. It was permission.
Garza stood and came around the desk at a speed that made Parrish brace for collision, but she was still knocked back a few steps when Garza slammed into her. She cupped Parrish’s face and kissed her hard. All the anxieties and stolen looks and the thoughts she’d hated herself for having faded away, suddenly okay because Parrish had crossed the line first. Parrish’s hands ended up on Garza’s hips, curling in the beltloops of her pants, holding on as Garza walked her to the wall and pinned her there.
“Say you want me,” Parrish gasped against Garza’s mouth. “I saw the way you were looking at me. Say the words.”
“I want you,” Garza said, going back for another kiss.
Then suddenly Parrish pushed her away, so violently that it was almost enough to break through the fog of arousal. “What...”
“Beg.” Parrish rolled her hips forward suggestively, resting one hand on the waistband of her jeans as she ran the other up her stomach to her breasts, untucking the shirt in the process. “Beg for me.”
Garza licked her lips, tasting Parrish’s lipstick. “Please,” Garza said.
Parrish’s hand disappeared under her shirt. “Is that really how you beg, Erika?”
Garza held eye contact as she slowly knelt down. “Please, Christine. I want you. I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.” She wouldn’t drop onto her hands to crawl, not unless the rules of the game dictated it, but she walked forward on her knees until she could put her hands on Parrish’s hips. She pushed her palms up until she felt skin. She leaned down to kiss the exposed stretch of belly, parting her lips to explore with her tongue, sliding higher. Parrish lifted her shirt a bit at a time to give her more runway to work with.
“Please,” Erika spoke with her lips against the warm skin. “Can I have you, Christine?”
The hair on the back of Garza’s head wasn’t long, but Parrish still managed to find enough to grab a handful and tilt her head back to look up at her.
“No.”
She bucked her hips forward, bumping Garza just enough to knock her on her ass. Anger flared in Garza’s brain as she lay on the floor. She bared her teeth to throw the cruel, teasing bitch out of her office, but Parrish didn’t give her a chance to speak.
“You can’t have me,” she said flatly. “If you want me you have to take me.”
Garza let the words, and their meaning, sink in. She put her hands on the floor and pushed herself up. Parrish’s eyes never left her as she rose to her feet. The white-blonde seductress remained against the wall, her shirt still lifted to just below her breasts. The hand she’d used to push Garza away hovered near the button of her pants. Garza slowly got back to her feet. She was shaking, both from desire and irritation at being played like this. But she had to admit, while it wasn’t a game she would’ve chosen, she was finding it...
...intriguing.
“You want me to take you?”
Parrish’s eyes flashed. She lifted her chin. “If you think you can.”
Garza let the silence hang between them. “Get out of here.”
The arousal and playfulness fled from Parrish’s face. She let her shirt drop and stood up straighter. “What?”
“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my office.”
“I-I’m sorry. I thought--”
“I don’t care. Go.”
Parrish smoothed down her shirt, then ran a hand through her hair. All the fire had gone out of her eyes and she looked abashed and awkward now. All trace of verve and control was gone as if it had never been there.
“I-I’m sorry if I went too far too fast. It’s just--”
“I didn’t ask for an explanation.”
“Right.”
Parrish brushed past Garza, shoulders slightly hunched, head down in shame. Garza watched her go, waiting until her hand was on the doorknob before she moved.
Garza rushed Parrish, molded her body to Parrish’s back as she pressed her hard against the door. Parrish placed her hands flat against the door and looked back over her shoulder with a surprised gasp. Parrish was taller than her, so Garza had to lift her heels off the ground to line up their faces properly. The white blonde curls fell across her face but Garza could still see the eye, wide and startled, through the veil. She had one hand on Parrish’s shoulder and angled her hips away, then dropped her other hand. She cupped Parrish’s ass through her blue jeans, hard, and then pulled back to give her a hard swat.
Parrish’s entire body tensed. She let out a high-pitched yelp of surprise, followed by a shudder that went from her shoulders all the way down to her legs. She placed her hands flat against the wall to brace herself. She arched her back, tacitly giving Garza permission to keep going. So Garza spanked her again, and this time Parrish’s reaction was a moan, teeth digging into a crimson bottom lip. Her eyes drifted closed.
“No. You look at me.”
Parrish’s eyes opened, locked on her.
“I don’t like playing games, Miss Parrish.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You better be. But if you need to hear it...” She brushed the hair away from Parrish’s ear and leaned in close to whisper. “I want you. I’ve been thinking about you since the moment you got out of that car, and if you tell me I can rip off your clothes and do anything that comes to mind, I’m going to do that. So say it.”
Parrish was shaking so much, their bodies pressed so tightly together, that Garza could feel it through her whole body.
“Take me,” Parrish said. “Do whatever you want to me.”
Garza spun her around and kissed her. Parrish’s teeth scraped Garza’s bottom lip just enough to hurt. Garza took both of Parrish’s hands, lifted her arms up, pinned them against the wall over her head. She spread her fingers so she could hold the crossed wrists with one hand and lower the other, finally running her fingers along all those lovely curves. She explored the small but perfect breasts, seemingly sized to her palm specifically. She traced the smooth line from Parrish’s underarm to the slight flare out of her hip. She had to use her weak hand to get the button and fly open, but she managed it without breaking the kiss or releasing Parrish’s hands.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Garza said before kissing her again. Parrish melted against her with a moan that shot down to the base of Garza’s spine. “Tell me I can have you all night.”
“I’m yours until Thursday,” Parrish said. “All yours.”
Garza pulled her away from the wall. She let one of Parrish’s arms go but kept her grip on the other, walking backward.
“Where are we going?”
“Bedroom,” Garza said.
Parrish smiled and pushed her hair out of her face. All trace of tease and superiority had faded from her expression, and all Garza could see now was excitement. She relaxed her fingers and slid them down, taking Parrish’s hand in hers so it was more of a caress than a leading gesture.
She had no idea what was about to happen. She was terrified and thrilled in equal measure. But she knew whatever happened, Christine Parrish was a willing participant, and right now that was all she needed to know. She focused on Parrish’s icy blue eyes until the dark hallway made it impossible to see her features, and they vanished into the darkness of her house together.
Chapter Three
Wednesday
Garza woke sore the next morning. She was naked, and parts of her were still wet. She brushed her hand through the wetness on her thigh and tapped her finger against her tongue, trying to figure out what it was and if it was hers or Parrish’s. The results were inconclusive, but she thought it was most likely sweat because her bedroom was already ridiculously hot.
She got out of bed, feet briefly tangled around the sheets, and went to the window she’d neglected to open the night before due to her guest. The frame creaked and squealed as she muscled it up, not caring that she was naked and on display. This far from town, there was no one to see her except moose or a deer, and they were welcome to a show if they wanted one.
With a meager breeze now blowing through the bedroom, she turned to face the empty bed. She hadn’t heard Parrish leave, but she wasn’t surprised to find herself alone.
Last night had been a frenzy. Parrish had said she wanted to be fucked like an animal. Garza would have bet cash money she never would have been capable of that, but somehow she’d managed. She swore she’d heard ripping when she took off Parrish’s clothes. Had she actually ripped the clothes off a woman...? Every gasp or cry of pleasure or excitement from Parrish had spurred her on, made her more crazed, made her want to do something crazier to top whatever had earned that noise.
Regrettably, she remembered very little of the specific moments. Lots of kissing. A soft and somehow cool hand reaching up under her shirt to blindly explore. Then skin to skin, sweat sticking them together in unusual places. Gentle fingers teasing her nipples, pinching and twisting before exploring lower. Stretching her body on top of Parrish so that her hip was between Parrish’s legs, using her feet to thrust herself upward, rubbing herself against Parrish, who had her legs wrapped around Garza and lifted her hips to meet each thrust.
There was spanking, biting, Parrish’s hair was pulled. They swore at each other, about each other, in praise and frustration.
“Tell me you want me,” Parrish whispered against Garza’s cheek, three of her fingers inside Garza up to the knuckle. “Use my name. Please.”
“I want you, Christine Parrish,” Garza whispered.
She remembered how Parrish’s breath had hitched, almost like she was crying, but then her orgasm briefly blacked her out so she couldn’t confirm tears. She didn’t know when they’d finally fallen asleep. As exhausted as she’d been, Parrish wouldn’t have needed to use stealth to sneak out undetected.
Garza left the bedroom mostly naked, the heat so oppressive that she only bothered with a pair of briefs. She second-guessed that decision when she reached the kitchen and found Parrish sitting at the breakfast table reading the newspaper. Garza’s robe was just a little too small on her, riding high on the leg and just snug enough on the chest that she couldn’t cinch it closed. This left the majority of her leg and a thin strip of bare skin down the center of her chest was exposed. Not that Garza, on full display had any room to judge her level of nudity.
Parrish lowered the paper and ran her eyes down Garza’s body. “Good morning.”
There was a mug on the table in front of her. “You made coffee?”
“God no.” Parrish lifted the mug and tilted it slightly so Garza could see the contents. “This is just OJ. You can drink coffee on a day like this?”
“Not if I have exactly one cup of orange juice left.”
Parrish looked sheepish. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. I like water just fine.”
She took a glass from the cupboard and filled it from the tap. The pipes had made the water tepid, and she grimaced as she took a sip and walked to sit across from Parrish. She was self-conscious about being next to naked, but going back to the bedroom felt like a retreat. Parrish put down the newspaper and pushed the mug to the center of the table.
“We can share.”
Garza wrinkled her nose. “You’ve already drunk from that.”
Parrish grinned devilishly. “Now you’re worried about germs, sweetheart? After the places you put your tongue last night?”
Garza blushed. She hated that she blushed, but she couldn’t stop herself. She’d had Parrish’s toes in her mouth. Sharing a mug of juice couldn’t be any less hygienic than that. She nodded her thanks, picked up the mug, and took a drink.
“You look even better in daylight,” Parrish said.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
“Do you have any work you need to do today?”
Garza shook her head. “No flights until tomorrow when I go get your boy. Why, what did you have in mind?”
“I could make up for stealing your juice by taking you out to breakfast.”
“In town?” Garza stiffened slightly. “You sure that’s such a good idea?”
Parrish smirked, the predator gleam returning to her eyes. “Why? Worried I won’t be able to control my desires? Or worried about yourself?”
Her foot slid up the inside of Garza’s calf.
“Worried about how it might look. Saul out of town, you--”
“Having breakfast with my new friend?”
Garza moved her leg away from the rising foot. “I’m not the kind of person who hangs out in town with friends. Trust me, people would find it weird.”
Parrish shrugged. “Well, I don’t know about you, but I have to eat something soon. You don’t have anything here.”
“I have plenty here,” Garza said, looking at the kitchen cabinets as if she could inventory the contents through the doors. She looked back at Parrish and tried to read her face. “So. Is that what we are? Friends? After last night?”
“Oh, hurrah, that conversation.”
She reached for a pack of cigarettes that Garza hadn’t seen. She tapped one out, pinched it between her lips. She got up and went to the kitchen.
“Skinny drawer by the sink,” Garza said.
Parrish found the matches and used one to light the cigarette. She took a drag and blew the smoke toward the ceiling as she walked back to the table. She rested her shoulder against the fridge. Her robe fell open, exposing her naked lower body. The hair between her legs was slightly darker than her head, but it was close enough to make Garza believed her peculiar color was natural rather than bleached.
“I don’t see why we have to give it a name,” Parrish said.
“You don’t much like labeling things, do you?” Garza asked. “You and Saul aren’t married, aren’t a couple, you’re just... together.”
“Keeps things easy,” Parrish said. “It allows wonderful things like last night to happen without headaches or heartbreaks. And we don’t have to worry about sharing our life stories, or if we’re compatible outside the bedroom, or any of that nonsense. We can focus on the fucking, which we’ve already discovered we’re very, very good at. Isn’t that better? And isn’t it better than boxing yourself in with some stupid title like ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’? Ugh.” She wrinkled her nose and took another drag. “It sounds so juvenile, anyway. Like we’re teenagers going steady.”
Garza stood up. She went to Parrish and pulled the two sides of the robe together, then tied the belt in a secure loop. Parrish watched her do that with an amused smile.
“Some of us like to know where we stand, Miss Parrish.”
Parrish used a deft twist of her fingers to turn the cigarette around. She held it in front of Garza, who waited two beats before she put her lips around it and breathed in. The smoke burned her throat, but she refused to cough and didn’t exhale until she absolutely couldn’t stand it anymore. She was aware that her lips were touching something Parrish’s lips had just touched, and somehow that intimacy seemed deeper than just kissing.
Abandoning the cigarette, Parrish stepped closer and hooked her thumbs under the elastic of Garza’s briefs.
“And for some of us,” Parrish said, “where we stand is not as important as where we kneel.”
She sank to her knees, pulling the underwear down Garza’s legs with the same motion. She let the cotton fall to pool around her bare feet, then put her hands on Garza’s ass to pull her forward.
Garza closed her eyes, pinching the cigarette with one hand as she braced herself against the fridge with the other. She closed her eyes and let out a long slow breath of smoke as Parrish’s tongue touched her. She relaxed. She eased her legs apart, angling her lower body so Parrish didn’t have to push her tongue out quite as far.
Kneeling, she decided, was good.
Maybe not in the long run. Definitely not forever. But right now, in this kitchen, she could say without hesitation that kneeling was very good.
***
They faced each other in the bathtub that night. The bathroom light was off to keep the room cooler, but the bedroom light shined through the open door and let them see each other. Garza had originally drawn the bath to wash away the sweat from the day. When she finished that task, she turned and saw Parrish standing naked in the doorway. Who could turn down a request like that?
