Her hand grips mine tightly as she keeps her eyes locked on me. “I’m not sure what’s going on with me,” she whispers. “But I think I like it.”
“Kissing girls?”
“Kissingyou,” she quickly retorts. “I was doing some thinking today…” She plays with my fingers in hers, tracing up and around my palm with her thumb. “This doesn’t feel nearly as strange as it should, right? I’ve never really wanted this before,” her laugh is half a sigh, “but this… this feels so…”
“Easy?” I offer.
“I was going to go withexhilaratingbut sure.”
I bite down on my smile as her eyes fixate on my mouth. “That’s awfully gay of you, Clara.”
“Ya think?” Her teasing smile matches my own.
“I think I like this too,” I say decidedly.
“What?” She tilts her head, her brows furrowing slightly.
“Kissing you.” I swallow. “I think I like it a lot.”
She rocks backs on her heels, smiling at the ground between us. “Okay, so do something about—”
I cut Clara off by reaching for her jaw, tilting her upwards, and slotting my mouth against hers. More feverishly this time because I’m a little too eager. I lean back, silently apologising for the aggression, but when she whines and pulls me back with a grip on my neck, I give into the wanting.
“Let’s sit,” I say in between kisses, my mouth incapable of leaving hers for very long.
She nods, following my step as I walk backwards and clumsily into my couch. Clara shakes her blazer off until it lands onto the floor behind us. I run my hands from her wrists to shoulders, loving that I have more of her skin available to me.
When I sit, she sort of falls on top of me as if she also can’t bear the idea of our lips not touching. Eventually, we find a more comfortable position with her legs on either side of mine, straddling me.
“I was thinking about this today,” she whispers against my neck, kissing my jaw. “Do you remember when I did this before? We were—”
“The remote.” Of course I remember. How could I possibly forget my several-year-crush sitting on my lap, even for half a second?
Clara shifts backwards, her eyes searching for mine.
“I remember,” I say, grabbing hold of the back of her knees, the soft linen fabric of her trousers barely a layer between my hands and her thigh. She smiles as I pull her closer. “A little surprised you do.” I kiss her shoulder, then wrap my lips around her collarbone and revel in the rewarding sound of her gasping moans.
Clara likes having her chest kissed.
Clara is on my lap.
Clara remembers the time she was on my lap, when I thought my teenage little queer heart was going to fracture and burst.
Clara and I have alotto talk about.
“Is this happening too fast? Should we?” I ask, sort of.
“Slow down?” Clara nods once, twice, then tilts her head as if she’s unsure. She nods once more but then begins shaking it, laughing quietly. “I mean I think I should say yes and stop but honestly, this is all very new for me and I feel like I have a lot to catch up on here so…”
A laugh escapes me but it’s quickly put to rest when Clara begins unbuttoning her blouse. “Unless you want to?” she asks me, hands stilling on her fourth button. Her purple lace bra peeking through.
Partially because words seem to fail me at the moment but also because I’m desperate to, I lean forwards and place a chaste kiss above her breast. Looking up as far as I can, straining my neck. I watch her lips part and suck in a breath as my bottom lip traces the trim of her bra.
Both of her hands move to the back of my head, showing me that she really wants me to keep kissing her there. I make quick work of undoing the rest of her buttons, and sliding off her shirt. Every new revelation of her skin, areas previously unseen and certainly untouched, lull me further into a sensation of dreaming.
Perhaps because I’ve dreamed about this so many more times than I’d ever admit outloud.
This is Clara. Teens. Daryl and Maggie’s daughter. My friend. Incredible photographer. The most stunning woman alive. With me. Touching me. Moaning after each of my kisses.
