Learning to Love Again 2 by Rose A.K

Author:Rose, A.K. [Rose, A.K.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-05-15T04:00:00+00:00

TWELVE

“I missed you,” Rachel said, greeting Cassie by the back door with a tender kiss. “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good. Crazy, as usual, but good . . . she wanted to talk to me about grandkids the whole time . . .”

“That’s good,” Rachel whispered as her lips found the bare skin of an inviting neck, knowing exactly where to deliver attention to shut down the conversation. The last thing on her mind was talking; she only asked to be polite.

“Hon, are you listening to me?”

“Mmm-hmmm . . .”

“Grandkids . . .” Cassie repeated, finding herself distracted as well, the touch of this woman on her skin sending chills through her body, igniting a fire in her she didn’t think could ever burn out.

“Oh, yeah? Want to go make a baby?”

“Come on, be serious!”

“Okay, sweetheart, I’m serious. I missed you while you were gone and I’ve been thinking all day about taking you into that bedroom and showing you just how much,” Rachel said with the tilt of her head as her skilled dentist’s hands fought to make space between the waistband of Cassie’s jeans and bare skin, unable to create the space she wanted. “Augh, these jeans are in my way . . .”

Cassie heard herself sigh audibly, the sheer pleasure of Rachel’s hands on her body forcing the automatic response, as lips grazed her neck, warm breath brushed her skin in the most sensual way. Before she knew it, her jeans were unzipped, Rachel’s hands firmly grasping her ass, and for a moment, she forgot they were standing in between a washer and dryer, the scent of laundry detergent filling the air. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable or romantic location for the inevitable.

“I love you so much,” Cassie whispered. “I missed you too . . . and I want to know how this story unfolds, but not here. Come with me,” she said, holding out her hand and when fingers interlaced with hers, guided them the dozen steps to the couch. There wasn’t time to make it to the bedroom—that would never work in the heat of this moment—so she settled for the closest horizontal surface and as lips met lips and pulses raced, found the momentary composure to lie down on the long portion of their L-shaped sectional.

Cassie was pinned to the couch, wedged into the backrest, wrists held firmly, long brown hair tickling her cheek, and she worked to turn off her busy mind. Thoughts about work could wait. Thoughts of her mother and sister and the aggressively-requested grandchildren could wait. House buying and wedding planning could also wait. All that mattered in the moment was two people on a couch, body heat rising, desire mounting, love for each other only growing.

Rachel tasted like red wine—Merlot, it seemed—she’d clearly been enjoying a glass before Cassie arrived home. For some reason, she was completely turned on by the taste of alcohol, the earthy dryness of the wine lingering on her tongue as it crashed into Rachel’s. She

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