Magnetic, page 13
The apartment was a wreck. She’d gone only to work, then back home to paint. Takeout containers filled the fridge, dishes piled in the sink, newspapers lay scattered around the couch. She had one day to get the place in order before Alana returned.
Their brief encounter in the bar had filled her with hope. Layne’s expressions were unguarded, and her eyes telegraphed the same longing that Stacy felt. The pull between them was magnetic, and Stacy wasn’t going to let the opportunity to romance Layne pass her by. She’d do everything in her power to sweep Layne off her feet.
*******
Layne would not call the trip a success, but she had survived. Had it not been for Alana stepping in to help her, she feared that she’d be facing unemployment. She tossed her things into her bedroom, kicked off her shoes, and flopped on the couch with her stomach growling. She knew Molly would be cooking dinner, but after the two weeks she’d had, Layne didn’t feel much like company. In the comfort of her own home, she finally relaxed and closed her eyes with a slight smile as sleep came calling.
Layne’s eyes flew open, and she looked at the clock as her mind tried to determine what had awakened her with a start. The answer came quickly when she heard a soft rap on the door. Figuring it was Molly or Jenny, she ran a hand through her hair and yelled, “coming,” as she stumbled across the living room. But when she caught sight of dark hair through the beveled glass, Layne went stock-still. Slowly, she opened the door just a crack and peered at the woman standing on her porch.
“I hope you don’t mind,” Stacy said with a nervous smile, “but I asked Alana to log into her computer and give me your address.” She held up a brown paper bag. “I figured you were tired from your trip and sick of restaurant food, so I made you dinner.”
Stunned, Layne opened the door a bit wider. “Thank you” was all she could think to say as Stacy handed her the bag and backed away.
“I hope you enjoy it, and again, I apologize for the intrusion. Good night.”
“Wait,” Layne said as Stacy turned and started down the steps. She smiled awkwardly as Stacy looked back at her. “I was napping, and I’m kind of scatterbrained. Would you like to come in?”
“Some other time?” Stacy asked with a hopeful tone. “I know you probably just want to relax.”
Layne held up the bag. “You cooked this yourself?”
Stacy nodded and thrust her hands into the back pockets of her jeans. “Alana says my homemade marinara is one of my better dishes. I can’t claim the bread, though. I picked it up at a bakery near the house. That sort of baking isn’t one of my strengths yet.”
“You like to cook?”
Stacy nodded again. “Very much.”
“Me too,” Layne said, unwilling to let her go. She opened the door all the way. “You made the trip over, why don’t you come in?”
Stacy hesitated for a moment. “As long as you promise to tell me when you’re ready for me to leave. My intention wasn’t to impose.”
“This was very thoughtful,” Layne said as Stacy followed her into the kitchen. “I really wasn’t looking forward to a frozen dinner.”
“Your place is really nice.” Stacy walked around the bar to the back windows overlooking the deck. “I love the backyard.”
“Me too. I haven’t had one since I was a kid.” Layne opened the bag and pulled out the containers, opening each one. The smell of the rich sauce made her mouth water. Great care had been put into the salad with the vegetables cut up in small chunks. Stacy had even cooked the pasta and stored it separately. “I have a bottle of cabernet that would go great with this. I hope you’ll join me.”
“I’ve already eaten.” Stacy turned away from the window. “I’d be willing to have a glass of wine and a slice of bread, though. And I’ll open this.” Stacy took the bottle as Layne set the wine on the counter and held her hand out for the corkscrew. Layne handed it to her and caught Stacy’s steady gaze. “We should talk, but I won’t ask that of you tonight.”
“I know we need to.” Layne sighed as she looked down at the food. “This was so incredibly sweet, and if there weren’t so many extenuating circumstances, I could let myself…” She grimaced. “I don’t know what to do with you, with myself.”
“I understand,” Stacy said as she opened the wine. “I’m dealing with issues, too.” She poured a small amount into one of the glasses Layne set out and sniffed as she twirled the dark liquid, then laughed when Layne looked at her. “Force of habit. I was just about to have you taste it, but you like this or obviously you wouldn’t have bought it.” Stacy added more to the glass, then filled the other.
“You’re probably a lot more discriminating than I am. You may not like it.”
Stacy took a sip. “I think your selection is just fine.”
“What made you decide on bartending?” Layne asked as she sliced the bread.
“Necessity. I had no job prospects when I moved to California, so I took the first thing I could find. Anna had just begun at a law firm, and she was on the bottom rung, so we didn’t have much income coming in. My degree was basically worthless, and I couldn’t see myself behind a desk somewhere, so serving booze kind of suited me.”
Layne regarded Stacy for a moment. “I can’t see you pushing paper.” She grinned. “And I can’t see you in the kitchen, either. You have an untamed air about you.”
“Really?” Stacy said with a smile. “Then it will shock you to know that I also garden. I’m quite tame behind my façade.”
“We may have differing definitions of that word,” Layne said, raising a brow. “Excuse me for just a moment.”
Layne went into the bathroom as a flush ran through her. Being alone with Stacy without fear of interruption made her nervous—not of what Stacy might do, but what she wanted to do. The urge had hit her strongly as they stood there talking like they’d done in Detroit sans the innuendo. The tension was still there regardless. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, questioning why and knowing the answer. She’d wanted to push the food aside and put her hands on Stacy.
Layne looked at her reflection in the mirror and asked softly, “What is wrong with you?” She stared at herself as if she fully expected the image that greeted her to explain. She makes you horny. You haven’t had sex with anyone since her, and you know how great it was. You’re a walking hormone right now, too. Aunt Flow will be here in a couple of weeks. That’s all it is, just sexual desire, stupid. That’s what all of this is really about, just a bunch of erotic memories of your time spent in a mirage after being in the sexual desert for so long. You don’t know her. This isn’t falling in love. This is hormones plain and simple, and you should be old enough to know the difference.
She doused her face with water again, then returned to the kitchen and found that Stacy had moved her plate and salad to the table. Cutlery sat on a napkin near her glass of wine, and the chair had been pulled out. Oh, she’s fucking good, Layne thought as she smiled and said, “Thank you.”
“Alana tells me that you’ll be going back to Seattle in two weeks.” Stacy joined Layne at the table and picked up a slice of bread. “I knew she traveled a lot, but I had no idea it was so often. Do you ever get sick of it?”
Layne spread her napkin over her lap, determined to show that she at least had table manners. Had she been alone or with Jenny and Molly, she would’ve already been covered in sauce. “I’ve been doing it for so long that it’s commonplace now, but I do get tired of it every now and then. Having to be ‘on’ and friendly when I’m not in the mood is the worst. We want the clients to feel positive about what they’re doing, and trying to be that way all the time makes me want to scream. When I get into those moods, I swim at night if the hotel has a pool or sometimes I go to Chuck E. Cheese and beat the hell out of those little gophers that pop up out of the machine. Personally, that’s my favorite. I have all their locations programmed into my phone.”
Stacy laughed genuinely.
The sound of it ripped through Layne like a bolt of lightning. Layne loved the joy that it conveyed and found herself wanting to make Stacy do it again.
“I feel like that sometimes at work, especially when it’s slow and the customers are chatty. I like to run and exercise, but I couldn’t care less about watching sports. After I explain that I don’t follow any teams, politics comes up. And after I tell them that I’m neither Democrat nor Republican, just sensible—hoping to steer clear of that topic—they assume I have no opinion and try to get me to agree with theirs. So I make up a whole persona and regale them with tales of how I’ve hiked all over the country. Wow them with places I’ve only read about in books and magazines.” Stacy shrugged and smiled. “It keeps me entertained.”
Layne had been steadily shoving food into her mouth while Stacy talked. Flavors exploded on her tongue, and she hoped that she didn’t have sauce in her hair. “This is absolutely delicious.”
Stacy looked pleased. “Thank you.”
“Have you really hiked?”
“Some, but I’ve never encountered bears, nor have I had deer that allowed me to walk up on them, and I don’t have a wounded hawk named Socrates that I rehabbed and travel with on my journeys.”
Layne grinned. “Do you really tell people that?”
“Oh, yeah, and it gets worse as time goes on and they stick around. Sometimes, I really get caught up in the bullshit I’m spinning.”
Layne laughed. “I thought people just poured out their problems to the bartender.”
“They do that, too, and I just listen and nod. That’s the easy part.”
“I feel like a pig,” Layne looked down at her empty plate, “but I couldn’t stop.”
“I’ll take that as a good sign.” Stacy stood and collected the empty dishes. “You enjoy your wine and I’ll take care of these.”
“No.” Layne stood and followed her to the sink. “You did this for me. I can’t allow you to clean too.” She grabbed Stacy’s hand, both of them laughing as the plate clattered into the sink.
Stacy was the first to sober. “I should let you get settled in now. Thank you for the enjoyable company.”
Layne knew what she was doing and knew that she should stop. A polite “thank you” would’ve sufficed, even perhaps a chaste hug, but she’d lost restraint the minute she’d grabbed Stacy’s hand, and she couldn’t let go. The look between them lasted a millisecond, the kiss that followed much longer. Layne’s back hit the wall, her feet barely touching the floor, both her hands fisted in Stacy’s shirt. The fire that she’d fought to keep under control blazed inside of her.
Stacy pulled back suddenly, her eyes wild. “Layne?”
“Yes.” Layne refused to let her go. “Yes, I want this.” She inhaled deeply and took Stacy’s hand, pulling her toward the bedroom. And like the night they met, clothing flew in every direction in a race to get to each other.
Stacy groaned when they fell onto the bed and she felt Layne’s body pinned beneath her own. The connection she felt to Layne was so much more than physical, but the union of their bodies made it all feel so complete. Her heart thudded in her chest and desire flooded every ounce of her being, but she wanted to bask in the sweet tension. She could love Layne like this for the rest of her life and never get enough.
The kisses became long and languid. Layne smiled as she kissed Stacy’s fingertips, her face, her neck, her touches tender and at times demanding. What Layne could not allow herself to say was undeniably expressed in her actions. She felt the magnetic attraction, too, though it defied her logic, and Stacy was content to allow Layne to come to her own conclusions because she knew in her heart that it was right between them.
Stacy’s mouth and tongue on her skin made Layne’s senses come painfully alive. She craned her neck back as Stacy slowly moved down her body. Layne couldn’t touch her enough. Her hands were in Stacy’s hair, her fingers brushed Stacy’s lips, smiling when each one was kissed. Stacy’s touches were the perfect combination of affection and sexuality, so much so the line blurred between. Layne felt as though she were being made love to and devoured at the same time.
Layne inhaled sharply through her teeth when Stacy’s tongue dipped between her legs. To her, it didn’t feel as though Stacy was performing an act, a very pleasurable act. It was an experience they were both enjoying. She didn’t feel rushed as Stacy slowly coaxed her to the edge, and it surprised her how easily she trusted Stacy to take her there.
The setting sun streamed around the edges of the blinds, filling the room with warm subdued light. Stacy watched as it filtered across Layne’s abdomen, spotlighting the muscles tensing there, her hands fisted in the sheets. She was beautiful, perfect. Stacy closed her eyes, letting Layne’s breathless cry wash through her.
“Come to me,” Layne whispered as she tugged on Stacy’s hand. “Turn over and lay on your stomach while I catch my breath.” Stacy stretched out beside her. Layne kissed her temple before sitting up, running her fingers lightly over Stacy’s skin. “I’ve come to know this back rather well. I used to stare at the muscles in your shoulders, the way your body tapers down to your waist, then your hips flare.” Layne ran her hands down Stacy’s sides. “Just enough to be feminine.” Her touch was featherlight as her fingers fanned out over Stacy’s backside. “So hard to admire and not touch.”
Stacy’s eyes closed at the longing in Layne’s voice. She understood that hunger all too well. Her skin burned where Layne touched her.
Layne sighed as she ran her cheek along Stacy’s spine. “Your skin smells so good even when you’re sweating. The day we collided, I could smell you all over me.”
Stacy inhaled sharply when Layne straddled one of her legs and slipped a hand under her hip. She pulled her knee up and turned slightly when Layne kissed the skin between her shoulder blades. Layne moaned and breathed hotly against her back when her fingers dipped into Stacy’s wetness, and Stacy shuddered feeling her touch. Stacy tried to roll, wanting to face Layne fully to touch and kiss her.
“No.” Layne pushed her down with her upper body. “I know how you operate. You’ll distract me, and it feels too good to fight.” Layne’s voice was raspy as she said, “I want this,” and pushed her fingers inside of Stacy.
Stacy groaned into the pillow as she thrust her hips, taking as much of Layne as she could. She clamped her jaw and swallowed hard when Layne’s fingers grazed her clit. “I dream of this,” Layne said against her skin.
Layne kept her suspended on that sharp edge of pleasure and pain. “Layne,” Stacy rasped out when she could take no more.
“Turn over.”
Stacy rolled onto her back, missing the contact when Layne pulled her hand away. The skin of Layne’s neck and chest were flushed as she knelt between Stacy’s legs and balanced her weight on one hand above Stacy’s shoulder. “Keep those hands to yourself,” Layne warned with a smile. She stared deep into Stacy’s eyes as her hand slid between Stacy’s legs. Layne bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment when her fingers slipped inside of Stacy.
Stacy watched as Layne’s eyes slowly opened, revealing a glimpse of blue mostly swallowed up by her dilated pupils. Her lips parted, breathing as heavily as Stacy. A small crease formed between her brows. “Don’t give it to me so easily,” she said with desperation.
Stacy sounded just as desperate to her own ears when she replied, “I can’t control it. You—” Stacy inhaled sharply when Layne stilled. “Don’t delay it…please, not this time.”
“You promise to give me more?”
“Yes,” Stacy said breathlessly.
Layne’s expression was pained as she began to move again. Stacy grabbed the arm above her shoulder and the side of the bed as Layne worked her, pushing her closer. The muscles in Stacy’s jaw quivered as she clamped her teeth knowing that she was about to completely lose her mind. She grabbed the back of Layne’s neck, pulling her head down onto her chest, needing the connection as sensation swept through her body unable to make a sound as air rushed out of her lungs.
Chapter 22
“I didn’t come here expecting this to happen.” Stacy lay partially on the mattress where the sheets had been ripped away. The room was now completely dark; dusk had faded into night, and soon it would be midnight. “I want to get to know you.” She ran the backs of her fingers across Layne’s bare hip. “More than just this.”
Layne switched on the bedside lamp and lay on her side, her gaze sweeping over the planes of Stacy’s body. “I have no self-control when you’re around,” she confessed softly.
“Apparently, neither of us is very good at restraining ourselves in the presence of the other. But there are things we need to talk about, Ronnie for one.”
Layne winced hearing her name.
“More importantly,” Stacy rolled onto her side and faced Layne, “I need to know how you feel. We’re too far gone for cat and mouse at this point. I have to tell you that I’m totally enamored with you, and I can’t make it stop. I don’t know why, I don’t care to know. I’m enjoying it far too much.”
“You don’t analyze what you’re feeling at all?” Layne asked, mystified by the lack of logic.
“Some, but I tend to go with what my instincts tell me, and I know what’s happening between us is a good thing.”
“We know very little of each other outside of the bedroom.” Layne sat up, remembering what she knew of Stacy’s history of loss and suffering. “I don’t want to lead you on or hurt you.”
Stacy gazed up at her and licked her lips. “Are you about to tell me it’s really all about sex?”
“No.” Layne shook her head. “I can’t say that. This is something just so out of control. I make decisions based on logic. But you…” Layne shook her head slowly and narrowed her eyes. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Detroit and seeing you again, and I wonder if that night hadn’t happened if I’d still be so…captivated by you, and the answer keeps coming back yes. That night was fantastic, but you really got under my skin in Florida.”
