It’s like with Nic, I’ve somehow met my match.As though it took someone like her to open me up like this—both emotionally and physically.Someone who’s been through what she has.Someone who was willing to give up something very important, just for me.Not that, for me—as opposed to the ethics board—it was a requirement but, for all my fame and fortune, I’m not used to someone doing something like that for me—let alone make the kind of sacrifice Nic has.
The very least I can do in return is continue therapy with Jan and keep working on my issues.They haven’t miraculously disappeared just because I’m in a real relationship now, but at least I’m aware that I lash out sometimes.And that talking about your feelings is not a sign of weakness but a solid foundation for a relationship.That this—letting someone else come this close to me—is the best thing I’ve ever done.That running from intimacy is not the path to happiness—only to bar brawls.
Nic sinks in further, the toy gliding through my wetness, and my body pulls her in without hesitation.She withdraws almost entirely, then thrusts back in, slow and deep, the friction exquisite.Nic repeats this masterfully, each stroke finding a new place inside me to ignite.
Her breath is hot against my cheek as she leans in again.
“I’m going to fuck you so good,” she says, and I lose whatever functioning part of my mind I have left.
She drives in deeper on the next stroke, hips flush against mine, and I cry out—because she’s not just in my body now, she’s everywhere.
“Until you come so hard,” Nic whispers, her voice easily replacing the sensation of what her thumb did to my clit earlier.But there’s no room left for her hand between our bodies.Nic can’t be any closer.
I wrap my legs around her, pulling her in tighter, needing more, needing everything, chasing the joy of release as if it’s the only thing that will let me breathe again.
Nic shifts her angle just slightly, and suddenly she’s hitting a spot that makes every nerve jolt.My moans turn into desperate sounds I can’t control.
“Come on,” she growls into my neck, her thrusts harder and more purposeful now.“I want to feel you come for me.”
It’s as though, every time we do this, she finds a way to push me further—to make me let go more.And I swear it heals something inside me.Something that I can’t name with words—not yet, anyway—but that I feel everywhere.
The orgasm tears through me like a white-hot blaze, stealing every thought from my brain until all that’s left is sensation.I cry out her name, my body arching into hers, muscles clenching around the toy as pleasure pulses through me in long, delirious waves.
Nic gently pulls out and immediately wraps her arms around me.She holds me as I come apart in her embrace, utterly wrecked but completely safe.
Chapter40
Nic
“They’re just people, like you and me,” I said to Avery before we left.
“The fuck they are,” was her eloquent reply.
But I remember how easily she charmed Ida Burton and Faye Fleming at my sister’s infamous—for many reasons—birthday party.How two of the most iconic actors of our time adore my girlfriend after seeing her inQueer Girl Summer.
We’re sitting on the deck of Ida and Faye’s house in Malibu, the ocean glowing orange under the setting sun.
“To love.”Derek lifts his glass.
“I’ll drink to that.”Ida shoots me a wink and even though I’ve known her for a long time—she used to be fake-married to my best friend, after all—I get what Avery means when she says that Ida is not a mere mortal like the rest of us.Even dressed in just jeans and a blouse, with that magnificent mane of ginger curls and, especially, with that ridiculously radiant smile, she just pulls you in.Faye might have been straight when she played opposite Ida inA New Day, but I bet she didn’t stand a chance.Like I didn’t stand a chance with Avery.
“Fuck yeah,” Avery says.To me, she looks a million times more stunning than Ida Burton and Faye Fleming combined.“To my ex-therapist old lady.”She tilts her glass to mine.“If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
Avery’s not shy, not even among her idols, and to sit here with her, on Ida and Faye’s deck, with my dear friends Ben and Derek, and enjoy this moment together, fills me with utter joy.For five long years, I’ve always been the single one.But no more.
I’ve only gone and snagged Hollywood’s hottest star.Some days, I have no idea how this happened.When I asked Avery this question, secretly serious though disguised as a joke, she said, “Are you fucking kidding me?You are the most spectacular woman I’ve ever met.”I happily accepted her answer and resisted the urge to dig deeper.
Sometimes, you meet someone you can’t run from.Sometimes, you make a connection that changes something significant inside you.And, in the end, love is love and, when you know—when you feel it everywhere—you have no choice but to go with it.You make the sacrifice and don’t care what anyone thinks.Because love is bigger than that.And the kind of connection Avery and I have is so rare, I’d be a fool to deny myself her love.
“To love.”I also lift my glass and look Avery in the eye.Instantly, a buzz takes over my body.But it’s not just physical between us, although that has been a huge part of it.How she can give herself to me time and time again is better than any climax.How she has grown and has come to accept herself.How she’s been ready to put in the work with Jan which, I know very well from experience, can be grueling and tedious and simply not something you want to put yourself through week after week, but Avery does it anyway.She sits in that chair and talks about all the things she doesn’t want to talk about.Then, she comes home to me.Also, time and time again.
“To lesbians,” Ben says.“Whom, I have learned, are definitely not our wiser, better-behaved sisters.”
We toast and laugh and enjoy each other’s company.
When I go inside to use the bathroom, my gaze is drawn to a massive painting on the wall.I immediately recognize the artist.The colors alone give it away.That’s a Raffo Shah.I’ve seen one before at Justine’s house and the style is unmistakable—all that bold, joyful color used like a language of its own.
This particular one is very different from the one at Justine’s.It’s a painting of Ida and Faye with their two kids, painted in a way that makes it feel alive.Ida’s eyes have that spark that so defines her.Faye’s gaze is softer and there’s such warmth in how her hands rest on their kids’ shoulders.There’s motion in the brushwork, as if the artist didn’t just want to capture how they looked—but how they are.Raffo Shah definitely succeeded.
