Page 71 of When I Picture You

Renee pushed herself off Lola and sat back. But with her weight gone, Lola felt incredibly naked, overexposed, and her earlier fears of being the focus of attention came storming back. She grabbed Renee’s waist.

“No,” she said. Renee held still, her lips parted in anticipation as she waited for Lola to say more. Suddenly Lola became aware of another feeling, beneath that familiar anxiety and even her churning arousal. A sense of calm at her core—the knowledge that Renee would take care of her, no matter how unrestrained she allowed herself to feel. “Stay here with me.”

“Okay,” Renee murmured. She laid herself against Lola again, that full-body sensation settling over her. “Like this?”

“Like that. I want to feel you on top of me.”

Renee kissed her mouth again, and her neck, and slipped her hand between them. She lingered at Lola’s breasts, but once she had her whimpering again, her touch trailed lower. Lola’s hips canted up against Renee’s fingers as they traced her slit.

“You’re dripping.”

“I know,” Lola said raggedly.

“Exactly how I want you.”

A swell of satisfaction swept over Lola again. She would never get tired of seeing Renee’s green eyes cloud and her cheeks flush with lust for her. She was still teasing Lola’s entrance and it wasn’t enough. Lola wanted her closer.

Lola bent her knees to clutch Renee’s waist, pressing herself against Renee’s fingers.

“I want you inside,” she whispered.

At once, Renee’s face shifted into something almost devilish, eyes glinting. Lola felt like she might come just from looking at it.

“Say that again.”

“I want you inside me, Renee,” Lola said, grinning.

When Renee entered her, the fullness she’d been craving swept over her. Lola’s eyes snagged on how the muscles of Renee’s shoulder worked, how her arm disappeared between them. She went slowly at first but then Lola moanedfasterand Renee’s thrusts came harder, juddering through their bodies. Lola’s knees gripped Renee, her hips bucking desperately as Renee grazed her clit again and again. Pleasure was building hot and fast inside her, and she screwed her eyes closed.

“That’s it,” Renee panted against her. “Let yourself feel good for me.”

Then Renee crooked her fingers inside, brushing against Lola’s G-spot. Lola cried out. It sounded so vulgar, but she didn’t care. She let go of any sense of control or reserve and gave herself over to thebuilding intensity. Lola was almost thrashing against Renee’s pistoning hand now, frantic and desperate.

Renee groaned. “God, I love to hear you.”

“Don’t stop,” Lola gasped. “I’m close—”

“Will you look at me, Lo?” Her voice sounded different—raw.

Lola did. As she met Renee’s eyes—tender and riveted on her—she felt herself bear down against her fingers, and the wave of her orgasm crashed against her. Lola’s back arched, her hands grappling against Renee, as a brutal wave of pleasure lit up her every nerve—and then a second wave, and then a third, and Lola let herself be swept away, untethered save for the way Renee’s eyes never left hers, the anchor in a storm they’d brewed together.

It was minutes before either of them could speak.

Renee rolled off her and onto the bed. Her hair was stuck to her forehead. Both of their bodies were tacky with sweat.

Lola felt limp, liquid. Renee met her eyes with a questioning look.

“I want … I want you to do that again,” Lola said.

HOURS LATER, LOLAlingered at the kitchen counter as Renee prepared dinner. Even the other side of the room felt too far away, but dinner was already late enough, so they’d pledged to keep their hands to themselves. Lola busied herself examining the family photos on the wall.

“This is a cute picture of you and your mom,” she said, pointing at one. “I forgot you dyed your hair green. Eighth grade, right?”

“Summer before.” Renee glanced at the picture and huffed a laugh. “My dad called it pond scum. He was actually in that picture, but my mom cut him out.”

“She did?” Lola looked closer. She hadn’t noticed the edge of a man’s shoulder at the border of the photo.

“She cut him out of all our pictures. I came home one day andshe’d pried all the frames open and was going at the photos with scissors. Then she hung them back up like they’d always been that way.”