Page 68 of The Ampersand Effect
She felt Tobin inhale underneath her and could hear her heartbeat begin to quicken. In that moment, she realized she couldn’t imagine a future in which she wouldn’t delight in recognizing all of Tobin’s muted tells—the ways in which she could make her body sing in a silent chorus.
Grier opened her eyes. She wanted to see if Tobin’s face would give her any insight, to gauge whether she was ready for their touching to escalate. She hadn’t hesitated to steal a kiss upstairs—but this felt different, slower and unhurried. She wanted to honor both their desires in this moment, as long as she could.
A quick flash of neon green darted across the periphery of her vision, distracting her from Tobin’s face. She abruptly stopped stroking and gently grabbed Tobin’s forearm, straining her eyes in the general vicinity of the flash. Tobin, sensing the pause, also halted her caressing.
Holding her breath, Grier followed another flash, broadening her gaze to take in the neon streaks of green and yellow flickering around them. A small, awed sound escaped her. “Fireflies.”
Tobin resumed her gentle stroking. “Mmm, yes,” she murmured, her voice was soft and content. “The first of the season. They usually come out in late May.”
Still keeping her voice at an appreciative hush, Grier gushed, “I love fireflies! They’re so beautiful. Did you know that both males and females use their lights to attract mates? And food!”
Tobin chuckled around her. “Why am I not surprised that you know that about fireflies—and seem rather envious that they can combine food with foreplay?”
Grier scoffed, then flirtatiously tickled Tobin’s ribs, forcing Tobin to squeeze their bodies closer together to block her attack. Tobin laughed. “Hey, now. I never said it was a bad thing!”
“Good, because you’re proving once again how much attention you’re paying to me. You better be careful—I may stick around.”
“I must admit, I didn’t hide my hand very well, becausethat, my dear, is the plan.” Tobin released a little of the pressure around them, and Grier shifted to look into her eyes. Her breath hitched, acknowledging the darkening swirls of gray mingling with the deep green of Tobin’s irises. They reminded her of the forest—the darkening thrill of the canopy as it reached for the sun above, blocking the light from the earth beneath, allowing splashes of sunlight to seep through according to its own design.
Grier searched Tobin’s face, asking and answering in their own unspoken dialogue. Her sightline shifted to Tobin’s mouth, and she registered the slightest shudder from Tobin. Tobin knew exactly where she was looking; her lips twitched, and Grier watched as she licked them, bringing her lower lip between her teeth. With one final inquisitive gaze into Tobin’s eyes, she flicked her tongue across her lips and then arched her neck, aligning her lips with Tobin’s.
Literally nothing could have stopped her deliberate and intentional surrendering to her own desire. It was far too late for composure.
They met, their delicate lips fitting together as perfectly and eagerly as their bodies on the couch. It was soft and lush,and the warmth of Tobin’s breath against her face felt like she was catching fire. Tobin parted her lips, and Grier accepted her invitation, gently darting her tongue between Tobin’s teeth, searching for hers. When she found it, she whimpered against Tobin’s lips. She could feel her pulse pounding at the apex of her thighs, and she knew she would feel a satisfying moisture in seconds. The warmth of Tobin’s tongue—its elegant dance with her own, its subtle but palpable strength—met Grier’s tongue, stroke for stroke.
Encouraged by her whimpers, Tobin began stroking the angle of her jaw with the lightest brushstrokes of her fingertips. She felt her skin ripple with goosebumps, her body igniting with heat. Grier ran her fingers through Tobin’s thick mahogany hair, tugging at her scalp and eliciting a moan.
Their oral exploration continued, teasing with tongues and playful nips. Tobin darted her tongue between Grier’s teeth, and Grier caught it there, applying pressure with her lips, locking them together. She felt Tobin suck air through her nose. Grier released Tobin’s tongue, letting it slide out between her lips. She chased the lost connection after Tobin pulled mere millimeters away, grazing her lips lightly against Tobin’s in the chastest of caresses. Her eyelashes batted against Tobin’s cheek. She pressed her lips to Tobin’s once again—harder, intentional. Claiming.
“Fuck, you’re good at this,” Tobin croaked through their conjoined lips. A defeated whimper escaped her as she surrendered to Grier. Grier accepted the whimper and swallowed it, fueling her desire for more—anything,allthat Tobin would give her.
Grier smiled through her kisses. She couldn’t remember the last time kissing felt this good.So good.“Remember that part about using your hands?” she whispered breathlessly. “Now would be good.”
Tobin turned to align their bodies, the warmth of her touch on the top of Grier’s hip a welcome, thrilling sensation. But it wasn’t enough. Tobin’s hand was still over her sweater. Instead of asking, Grier chose to demonstrate: she tugged Tobin’s shirt from the front of her jeans, slipped her fingers under the hem, and pressed her thumb into the soft skin just above Tobin’s pelvis, curling her fingers around her hips. She pressed her thumb in—possessive, territorial.
She felt Tobin reflexively tense her stomach muscles, shuddering away from her touch. Grier froze, listening to what Tobin’s body was saying—a wordless expression she understood instinctively, forcing her to pause.
Grier had always been physically intuitive. She could sense instinctively what someone was withholding—just by reading their vitals, their posture, the shifts in their voice during difficult conversations. She knew when patients were hiding their pain, downplaying its intensity, putting on a brave face. She could tell when people were lying, by the subtle shift in posture, the twitch of a muscle, the flicker of an eye. And she knew when a woman she bedded was enjoying herself—exactly how to find, tease, and lavish her favorite erogenous zones. She had always prided herself on being an exceptional lover because of her ability to read the woman in her bed.
That was how she knew Tobin was lying to herself. She had seen the pain—the physical trauma from the helicopter accident and the emotional wound left by her fiancée’s departure. Tobin’s body held those memories, and even though Grier could feel how much Tobin wanted this—wanted her—her body was telling a parallel story: one of fear and insecurity, of mistrust, of pain far deeper than the scars of the accident.
She sat up, pulling her face inches from Tobin’s. “We don’t have to do this, Tobin. If you’re not ready—”
Suddenly, Tobin caught on, determination evident in her darkened, hungry eyes. She slid one hand along Grier’s jaw, guiding her upward so she could taste her neck, while the other slipped under the hem of her sweater, finding skin and palming her heaving stomach. Grier knew she should stop them—to make Tobin talk. It would be the smart, foundational move a new relationship needed.
But just as she could feel Tobin’s fear, she could feel her want. She silenced her brain, giving into her carnal need. Physical sensation was currently the only appreciable language in her lexicon of communication.
Tobin trailed the tip of her tongue along the front of Grier’s neck, from clavicle to jaw, then settled below the angle of her jaw, gently sucking, tracing the flat of her tongue in mysterious shapes, coaxing unseemly sounds from Grier’s mouth.
More, she thought. She needed more. Anything she could touch she wanted in her hands. She reached behind and found Tobin’s ass—taught and firm in her jeans—and squeezed, hoping she left a handprint, a promise of more.
She felt Tobin remove her hand from her ass and interlace their fingers.
“I thought we said above the waist?” Tobin husked, refusing to stop her suckling along Grier’s neck.
“Semantics,” Grier responded, hoarse and breathy. “We both know that was meant for the front. Are you complaining?” She squeezed their conjoined fingers, emphasizing her point. Her hand needed more contact; she needed to find purchase on Tobin’s body— to squeeze her curves. To mark her.
Tobin returned their hands to her ass and answered with her teeth, grazing the soft angle of Grier’s throat with their sharp edges. Instinctively, Grier swung herself over Tobin’s legs, straddling her, and tilted her neck, exposing more skin. Shereached under her own shirt, found Tobin’s hand, and guided it to her breast, needing to feel the heat of Tobin’s skin.