Page 42 of Hot Tea & Bird Calls (Kissing At Work #2)

She moaned when Celene rested the weight of her upper body on her. Celene roamed a hand over the skin exposed by the cut of Skye’s top—Aisha didn’t have this access in mind when she crocheted it. Skye grinned, reciprocating by palming smooth, firm skin under Celene’s shirt.

Tumbling in the richness of Celene’s tongue and a thigh finding its way between her legs, Skye allowed her hips to rock for a generous few minutes.

How Celene handled Skye’s body kind of stunned her; she could hardly resist. Though she wanted them to take their time, even more necessary when a sister and brother-in-law could come back any minute.

But she also had an incredibly sexy girlfriend. They shouldn’t squander this private time. Skye traced her fingers around Celene’s sides and whispered, “I bet you’re really good in bed.”

Celene scraped her teeth against Skye’s neck. “We’re in bed now.”

“You know what I mean.”

“When did you last have sex?”

Skye waited for Celene to rise, to reply, “My last girlfriend of five months. Started here in Yielding, turned to long distance, and we accepted that wasn’t sustainable.”

Celene nodded solemnly. “I’d never done long distance. Might be a flaw in me, but I need someone I can kiss and touch. Like this.”

Skye craved Celene and all the things they could do in bed, on the floor, in her fantasies of the break room. A few hours to Manhattan weren’t the worst commute in the world. “Can I know why you and Quinn had issues?”

“Oh, god, we don’t have that kind of time,” Celene replied, features narrowing in thought. “A big one was sex. She and I weren’t very compatible. Accepting that was humbling.”

“Yet you wanted to marry her.”

Celene shrugged. “I loved her.”

Skye shimmied onto her side, too. Jealousy was an ugly quality—Luce drilled that into her. She couldn’t help it, though, to pry a bit more. “How weren’t you compatible?”

“Everything would start okay. Foreplay, kissing, touching over clothes.” Celene blinked like she needed to recover more details.

“Then, when we had sex, she held back almost compulsively. I’d talk dirty to her, assure her she was doing well.

Nothing broke that barrier. When one of us would come, sometimes her eyes glazed over. ”

Skye patted for Celene’s hand and held it tightly. “That marriage wasn’t meant to be.”

“Now that was a fake relationship.” Celene brought Skye’s knuckles to her mouth to kiss. Behind their hands, that roguish smile returned. “It was a shame, too. She was excellent at oral.”

Heat flaring, Skye spoke her mind. “Are you trying to make me jealous? What if I bragged about June?”

“June. The June who hangs out at your shop.” Celene smiled, though her eyes held an intensity that revved up Skye’s heartbeat. A sharp and vulnerable gaze. “June Christiansen, who has roots throughout Yielding and drives you around in her work van? June, who built your bed? That June?”

If Celene’s jealousy had been any more unnecessary, Skye would laugh for days.

Maybe this was how ridiculous Skye sounded, stressing over an ex-fiancée who wasn’t even a friend.

“You have nothing to worry about. Seeing you after all these years, you seemed inaccessible, a little forbidden. Truth is, I was so into you that Thalia, Zini, and June didn’t ever believe me when I denied it. ”

Celene pursed her lips, and Skye couldn’t tell if she was satisfied. “June could tell I was turning you on when I played with your neck.”

“Embarrassing. I wasn’t ready to be on display like that.”

“At first it bothered me, then it gave me confidence. Without trying, I found a sweet spot.” And like a maestro, Celene led them to a favorable topic.

Fingertips denting into Skye’s nape, Celene smiled at her immediate shudder.

Her short nails scratched there, too, intent on ending her.

“What else stimulates you? Should I read your book for tips? Do you want an assertive, dominant woman to show you real passion?”

Skye closed her eyes, doomed to writhe and whine.

If she could speak intelligibly, it’d come out as a plea to let these insecurities go.

June hadn’t discovered the neck hack on her own; Skye told her, and even then, she never utilized it correctly.

Her ex-girlfriend’s touches lacked finesse; they fumbled.

Celene needed nothing but her body language, kissing her for several minutes until she’d done some writhing of her own.

The overcast sky contributed to the sensuous air, etching Celene in a light Skye would never forget.

Celene held Skye’s hip, thumb applying pressure as she pulled away.

“Can I have more of that naughty side of you from the ice cream shoppe? If I called you late at night with only one thing on my mind, would that scare you away?”

Skye’s aroused brain reached boiling point by now. She stammered out, forgetting the order of her questions. “Yes. To...naughty. Um, I mean no, not scary.”

“Would you send me pictures?”

Gasping at Celene’s knee being introduced, she moaned, “Yes.”

“For this…” Celene ground her thigh upwards, and Skye held onto Celene’s shoulders like a buoy in a sea of temptation. This clearly represented the space between Skye’s thighs. “What term do you prefer? Do you like vagina? Cunt? Do you like pussy?”

She loved them all, but the final one nearly sent her over the edge. It left her open, ready to make good on the request to be naughty. “God, I love pussy.”

A sharp intake sounded suspiciously moan-like. Skye snapped from her stupor to marvel at Celene’s heavy gaze, hair strands cascading across her face. “So do I.”

“So do you what?”

Picking up on the challenge, Celene bit her lip and seamlessly responded, hiking her thigh again. “Love pussy. I’m hungry for you.”

So vulgar. So irresistible. And too much. Skye fell to her back, the room spinning. “My god.”

They lay there, their breaths steadying. And it’d been the correct course of action when the security system bleeped. Elise and Ajay returned, loudly raving over the film like it’d come out yesterday. Fun over.

“I have to jog, like now.” Celene sat up with a low whine. She went through three breathing rounds, and Skye couldn’t have been more flattered. “Is that okay? I don’t mean to put you out.”

“Please, jog.” Skye laughed, fastening her shirt into place. “Such a disciplined regimen.”

Celene had already begun hunting through an old dresser. She held up shorts and a tank tantalizing enough that Skye would rush home and camp out at their window to catch a glimpse of her, in case her route went by her street.

Before heading into her bathroom, Celene bent to lean over Skye’s lap, on the edge of the bed.

Skye lifted a brow, but Celene didn’t make her wait long. Celene slanted her head into a short, almost possessively rough kiss and hissed, “Take this off of me.”

Celene seized Skye’s hand and brought it to the hem of her blouse.

Suddenly a character in her smutty book, Skye detached their mouths.

She needed to see every second of this, taking her time to peel the top, little by little, until it slipped off Celene’s head.

And she resorted to simply stare at an impeccably full midnight blue bra and abs all that sexually frustrated jogging produced.

Celene blew her a kiss and disappeared to change.

Damn. That series with the long title had nothing on Skye’s actual life.

Jogging could recalibrate Celene; she swore it would. Despite her sister’s asinine attempts to derail her efforts to sell the house, each evening, Skye pulled her juniper green SUV into the driveway, and Celene could think again.

Or, uninclined to wait until Skye’s shift ended, Celene would spend a couple of hours at Luce’s Mosaic Wonderland, observing how Skye effortlessly managed her small team and knew all the ins and outs of inventory.

It was attractive, but unnerving. Skye’s presence regulated Celene—her heart rate slowed, and headaches ebbed.

Therefore, Celene needed distance. She needed a jog.

Celene made quick work of removing around-the-house clothes chosen solely to attract Skye. And she’d be mentally replaying that example of Skye undressing her, those intriguing, deep-set eyes in a long perusal.

Every type of breathing technique at Celene’s disposal wouldn’t diminish her desire to thrust her hand into Skye’s rude little shorts and make her call out so sharply, Yielding’s entire bird population would flock to their windows.

This neighborhood had extremely low crime rates; however, she remained vigilant by planning one or two speedy laps as the sun set. That should sap enough energy.

After gripping her hair into a ponytail, Celene judged herself in the mirror. Shaped, angled brows, a tense jawline. This was the look of a woman who could control three impulses:

One, she would not fuck Skye senseless tonight.

Two, she would not leave her mind in Pennsylvania tomorrow.

Three, she would not miss Skye.

Missing her too much would complicate things.

Having a girlfriend was supposed to be a lighthearted affair.

Celene would brew leaves from her Manhattan stash and try not to make everything so serious.

No matter how much care Skye put into her today.

With infused tea and sliced pears and fucking patience, fuck .

She swiped a fingertip below her eye, removing any trace of what could be a tear.

Arousal and despair. They had no business intertwining.

Celene opened her bathroom door to find Skye standing there. Her arms were folded like she was cold, and she arced her face to the ceiling when Celene asked what was wrong.

“This will be one long week,” Skye mumbled, righting an edge of a rug with her foot.

God, this wasn’t making anything easier. Though she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “What can I do for you? Can I bring you something from the city?”

“No, it’s fine.” Skye shook her head, and interestingly, Celene spotted a smirk. One Skye furled into her mouth before pushing her lips out again, attractively pouty.

There wasn’t any way Celene wouldn’t buy Skye something, though she had to tackle the immediate. “What are you hiding?”

“What time are you leaving?”

Frowning, Celene replied, “Six in the morning. What are you hiding?”

“Luce texted. She needs me to drive her to Philly tomorrow morning, so this is goodbye until next time.” Skye unfolded her arms to fit her phone into her bag. “I’ll probably wander around the Woodmere while she does business.”

Celene grasped Skye by the hips and yanked her close. They collided softly and still, Celene could cave to her any moment. “I don’t appreciate avoidance.”

Skye worried her bottom lip with her teeth, then pointed to Celene’s phone, left next to the sound machine. “Check your texts, but only after I’m gone, okay?”

“Okay,” Celene offered in reluctant acceptance. A new girlfriend meant more discoveries, pockets of surprises, and occasional misunderstandings. And she couldn’t get heads or tails around this version of Skye Florentine. “Thank you for everything today. Really.”

“I’m here for you,” Skye said, taking Celene’s face in for a kiss. “See you soon?”

Their goodbye kisses broke Celene’s heart a little.

Maybe Elise’s flair for the dramatic was endemic.

Nonetheless, she aligned their mouths, plunging her tongue in a way that sent Skye quivering within her arms. Not all her exes received these kisses well, which once disappointed Celene.

Months of soul-searching revealed that the right woman would embrace her affection.

That’d been a vague concept, an unfinished blueprint of a nonspecific woman. Now she reckoned with someone whose grip tightened, who beckoned her for more. And the blueprint didn’t look as unclear.

Spooked by this, Celene gradually scaled back until they merely breathed each other’s air, fixing on a kiss or two for the texture alone. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

By the time they parted ways outside with enough kisses to give Ms. Greene fodder for three days’ worth of gossip, Celene tumbled to her bed, wondering if she’d doze off instead of tying on her runners.

Then, she remembered Skye’s quiet, dubious request.

Celene unlocked her phone, instinctively checking new messages from Skye. And they?—

“Oh, fuck.”

Selfies. Not typical selfies they exchanged, either.

Skye’s face was cut off at the chin, leaving space in the frame for her body—her top pulled high to expose a bra, lacy and nearly see-through against her skin, more tapered midsection than Celene had ever seen from her at once, and her shorts unbuttoned.

At the open juncture rested her hand, fingers suggestively dipped inside. All on Celene’s bed.

After three photos like this, Skye had left a text:

Skye – 9:05 pm

The naughty side you wanted.

Celene’s vision blurred. Positively drugged with lust. Stumbling, her fingers managed:

Celene – 9:09 pm

God

How can I use these?

Skye must’ve arrived home by now. Her response came quickly and not fast enough, as Celene resorted to pacing until the three dots bounced.

Skye – 9:14 pm

To unwind.

Shit, shit . Celene hadn’t signed up for this torment. That was her job.

She’d met her match.

Not trusting what she wanted to say, she tugged her runners on in a clumsy sprint out her door, through the living room, and outside. Ajay and Elise’s voices barely registered as she left the door open in her dash to jog the neighborhood until she was too tired to even spell the word pussy.