“Fuck, that’s it. Give it to me.” As the tremors started to subside, Billie withdrew her fingers slowly, not wanting to miss a drop. She dropped to her knees behind Debra, leaned in, and spread Debra’s cheeks to expose her fully. The vision alone hit Billie like a drug. She dove forward, her tongue lapping at Debra’s slick pussy in long, hungry strokes. “Mm. Fucking perfect.”
Debra whimpered, her body still sensitive, but she didn’t pull away. She reached back and threaded her fingers through Billie’s hair, holding her in place. Billie savoured every drop, her tongue delving inside to taste Debra. She drew back, sucking gently on her clit, drawing out the last shudders, an unbearable throb now evident between her thighs. But for now, this was about Debra.It was about making her feel every ounce of the connection they shared, raw and unfiltered. “Oh, Billie.”
Billie grinned as she sat back on her knees. “That’ll teach you to ruin my risotto.”
Epilogue
One year later…
Billie stoodon a stepladder in the middle of the living room with a paint roller in her hand, staring critically at the wall she’d just finished. It was…beige. Warm beige. Not the clinical grey, black, and white she’d favoured for years. She tipped her head to the side, squinting a little, then glanced down at the sheet running the length of the wall, flecked with accidental splashes.
“Okay.” Billie shrugged. “I don’t hate it.”
Debra offered her a low hum in agreement from where she was sprawled on the couch, one ankle crossed over the other. She had a cup balanced on her stomach and her glasses perched on the end of her nose, but Billie knew she hadn’t read anything in a while. In fact, she was almost certain Debra had nodded off at one point.
She climbed down the ladder and set the paint tray aside, wiping her hands on an old T-shirt she’d sacrificed for the job. “What do you think, babe? I mean, you practically live here at this point, so your opinion matters.”
“Give me a minute. I’m just appreciating.”
“Hmm.” Billie snorted as she shook her head. “I caught youappreciatingearlier, too.”
“And I plan to continue.”
Billie glanced over her shoulder, catching Debra as her gaze swept the length of her body. She had paint smudges all over her, her hair scraped back into a messy knot, wearing an old pair of shorts and a tank top that had definitely seen better days.
A year ago, she would have been hyper-aware of how she looked and how she was being perceived. A year ago, she would have wondered whether she was performing the right version of herself. But now? Now, she just felt…present.
“Charlotte was right.” Debra gestured around the room. “Itdidhave a bit of a bat cave feel to it before.”
“Don’t.” Billie groaned. “She said it so casually, too.”
“She wasn’t wrong, and she also wasn’t judging you. She was just noticing.”
“I know.” Billie leaned back against the kitchen island, her arms folded across her chest. “That’s what got me.”
She looked around again. The box of books waiting to be re-shelved and the throw draped over the arm of the couch that Debra had brought over but had never taken back. Then there was the side of the wardrobe she’d taken one Sunday afternoon while Billie was cooking dinner, and the cup Debra always used, along with other bits and pieces that now belonged to her.
“This place,” Billie said. “Was designed for me to disappear into.”
Debra nodded slowly as an understanding smile settled on her lips. “I know.”
“It felt safer when I looked at it that way. There was nothing to knock into, nothing of any substance to explain to people if I did decide to invite someone over some day.” Billie lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t expect that anyone wouldwantto stay.”
Debra set her cup down and got to her feet, crossing the room until she was standing in front of Billie. God, she was so strikingly beautiful that it took Billie’s breath away. “Do you still feel that way now?”
“No.” Billie smiled. “Now I want people to stay. I wantyouto stay.”
“Oh, Iamstaying, Billie.” Pride flickered across Debra’s face as she gazed back at Billie. Pride for their relationship…perhaps even a relief that they’d made it this far.
Billie’s attention drifted back to the wall, patchy where it was drying in places. “It’s hard to believe we are where we are now. Whenever I looked at you, whenever I allowed myself a moment to feel in those early days, I always came back to feeling undeserving of what could come next with you. I didn’t think I had it in me to give you everythingyoudeserved. But then I realised I was only fighting myself and breaking my own heart.”
Debra pressed a hand to Billie’s chest and leaned in to kiss her. Billie melted into it, as she so often did now, one arm wrapping around Debra’s waist to pull her in closer. When Debra drew back breathlessly, she touched her forehead to Billie’s. “I love you, and I’m proud to call you mine.”
“Same here.” Billie stroked Debra’s cheek and laughed. “Turns out the worlddoesn’tend when you choose yourself and happiness.”
“No. It just gets better.”
Billie swallowed down the lump in her throat and looked back at Debra. This woman had never once asked her to be smaller. She had watched her heal without rushing her. But most of all, she had loved Billie without condition. She reached out, leaving a faint streak of paint on Debra’s arm.
