Dex watched the little smile of triumph play over Gena's lips. She reminded Dex of a little mouse that had gotten the cheese out of the trap and run off with it. She touched Dex's ear lightly and sat up.
"I'm hungry," she said.
Dex winced. Was this a time to think of food? Dex leaned over to kiss her breasts. "What would you like?" she said against the warm flesh.
"French toast," Gena said instantly, her voice full of bounce.
"God," Dex groaned. "Won't you settle for an egg?"
"I hate eggs."
"What about Wheaties?"
"You're making fun of me."
Dex pressed her mouth into the cleavage and stayed there for a long moment. Gena's breasts were warm and firm as they pressed in on both sides of her face. The sweet odor of Blue Grass and young sweat were intoxicating. As she pulled her head away she noticed that both nipples were still erect.
"Yes, I am," she said, finally replying to Gena's remark.
But she forced herself to sit up and away from Gena so that she could concentrate on getting her a satisfactory meal. Good old Dex, she thought to herself. Ready when you need her; a mother to all.
She stifled a sigh. The sooner this eating business was over with, the sooner they could return to important matters.
Dex stood up and pointed herself straight for the kitchen, trying to ignore the naked girl prancing beside her. Yet she couldn't help watching Gena from the side of her eye. The girl was rosy pink all over like a cherub that had just taken a hot bath. Her breasts stood up with a firm individuality. Her ass jiggled. Its roundness had just recently lost its baby fat.
Precocious little bitch, Dex thought.
The challenge of Gena brought out a vague sense of foreboding. How easy it was to smile with amusement at the girl. To appreciate her antics as though she were watching somebody else's adventure on film. Yet this wasn't the movies, and it wasn't anybody's life except her own, Dex reminded herself. She knew she would have to be careful with Gena, not for the girl's sake, but for her own. Gena could and had made her jump. What had started as a one-night stand, part sex, part revenge for Ryan's non-appearance, had thrown her into a position to get walked all over again.
Yes, she would have to be careful with Gena… or somehow things were going to get way out of hand.
They reached the kitchen. Gena stood bending over with expectancy as Dex pulled the refrigerator door open.
"Sorry," Dex said, as they both stared into empty shelves. A small half-opened tin of anchovies lay at the far end of the bottom beside three sections of a peeled orange.
"Oh, don't worry." Gena gave her a resounding kiss on the side of the neck. "I don't mind if you take me out to breakfast. I don't want to see you working anyway."
"That's kind of you," Dex replied acidly and slapped Gena smartly on the ass.
Gena giggled and danced out of reach, her blonde curls bobbing.
"I'll be dressed in a sec."
"No doubt," Dex muttered, closing the cold door and leaning against it. The itchy heat between her thighs would not stop. She could still feel the wetness, the swollenness of her labia, the cruel lack of release inside her. Her cunt ached for attention.
From a safe distance, she watched Gena pulling on the lace panties, saw them rise up on her fresh, full thighs and cover the mound of blond curls still wet from Dex's own mouth. Seeing her pussy disappear under the lace reminded her of the taste of sex in her mouth, the reek of it in her nostrils. Gena slipped her slacks on coyly, then pulled the jersey on over her head. Dex knew she felt her eyes on her, watching her body disappear from her hungry view. She slipped her jersey over her upturned breasts, catching the bottom edge of it on the tips of her nipples, pink and still rubbery hard, then cupping the full mounds, and finally pulling the jersey down tight and tucking it into her slacks. Her breasts poked at the flimsy jersey material, teasing Dex's eyes, saying come and get me.
Dex pursed her lips with a tremor of annoyance. Her own reactions were so strange, so tense, that she could barely recognize them as her own. What was she doing, chasing after a kid like this? And how come the kid was winning the game?
"Well, are you coming?" Gena called.
Dex went after her without a word now. Best to get breakfast over with quickly. Then Gena would be in a relaxed mood again and come across.
The morning had sped on. It was almost ten a.m. when they reached Dex's favorite all-night diner on Tenth Avenue. They walked into the clatter of dishes and bustling waitresses. A thick and pungent aroma of coffee mingled with the frying of bacon. Somehow, the atmosphere calmed Dex. She could always count on this diner as a place of refuge when everything else seemed all wrong.
She sipped black coffee and watched Gena put away two orders of French toast along with a double side order of sausages.
"Why don't you eat something, too?" Gena asked between mouthfuls.
"I'm not a growing girl, I guess," Dex grinned.
Gena lifted her shoulders and looked genuinely unhappy for a second. Dex patted her hand for reassurance. Gena was obviously doing her best to get it over with quickly. She wasn't purposely out to give anyone a hard time, Dex knew.
As they walked back to the house, Gena's springy step was quieter. Her body was close to Dex as though she wanted to snuggle in close and go to sleep.
Dex's mind wandered to a comforting picture of the sexy little body curled up naked beside her in the bed. She pictured the beautiful little mouth wet from her kisses and the juice of her cunt. She would possess her, feel her tongue leaping between her labia, licking her clit. In return she would do the same, repeating her hungry eating of Gena's blonde pussy. The tight mounds of her pointed breasts mixed in fantasy with her round buttocks, snowy white and fleshy. She could devour the girl in one gulp, she thought moodily, and still not be satisfied. Gena was sex, not love. She couldn't begin to satisfy the jumbled emotions in Dex's heart.
Dex pictured them in sixty-nine position, sucking each other to exhaustion. Gena's pert rump would bob and shiver as she peaked, climaxed and came over and over. Gripping each other tightly, they would continue sucking and licking until they were too worn out to move a tongue, a lip or a finger.
The exhaustion of their sex would do some good. Dex was sure of that. It wouldn't satisfy the building sense of loss as month after month Ryan played the field behind her back, staying out all night, going from woman to woman and maybe even to a man. It was intolerable. The abuse she felt from Ryan's attitude could not be satisfied by a romp in bed. But it could help her forget for a while.
As they walked back to the building, Gena's springy step had disappeared. It was now matched as well as possible with her own pace. Dex smiled to herself. The girl was trying, after all. She was just a kid out for a good time, but she was sensitive. She must feel something wrong, thought Dex.
Dex reached over to Gena's arm swinging loosely by her side. She caught her fingers and held them. Gena looked up at her and grinned.
"I thought only us kids held hands," Gena perked up.
"Honey, I didn't think eighteen-year-olds these days had that much romance in them." Dex was smiling, enjoying the fast quips that broke the tension.
"You'd be damn surprised," replied Gena aggressively. She squeezed Dex's fingers tightly and almost pulled her toward the building.
Just as they reached the entrance, the Dalmatians bounded up and sniffed happily and curiously around Gena's ankles.
"Hi there," Robard called, his bass voice rising from the depths of his broad chest. "I guess you must've missed seeing Ryan…"
Dex raised an eyebrow. "You saw her coming in this morning?"
"Only five minutes ago."
To what did she owe this warning, Dex thought testily. Wouldn't Robard find it much more to his advantage to get the two of them fighting so that Ryan could run upstairs to him and then, God knows what…
"Thanks," Dex said, forcing a grin of gratitude over her lips. If there was a catch to it, she couldn't figure out what it was. Maybe, just maybe she had been wrong about Robard and Ryan. Maybe there was nothing there at all.
She grabbed Gena by the elbow, getting her wits about her and dealing with this real situation. She steered her on past the entrance and kept on walking toward the corner.
"Hey, what's the matter?" Gena said, half laughing, half upset.
"Where do you live, honey?" Dex said, ignoring Gena's question.
"Why can't we go back to your place?" Gena responded impishly.
"You know damned well why," Dex growled.
"Why?" Gena persisted, blinking her eyelashes with mock innocence.
Dex hailed a cab and pushed Gena into it. Gena grabbed hold of her wrist.
"Aren't you coming with me?"
"Sorry. Not today anymore."
"Oh I see. You're scared of the big bad wolf, whoever she is."
"Come on, girls," the cabbie interrupted. "In or out."
Dex pulled her arm free and slammed the door shut. She put a five-dollar bill into the cabby's hand and turned her back on Gena.
As she strolled away, she heard Gena's voice calling, "Scardy cat. Shit! Shit!" The choked sound of the voice made her look back for a second. It seemed to her in the quick glance she got of Gena that her face was streaked with tears, that she was really calling out for her. Impossible, Dex thought to herself, closing the book on the subject.
Dex ground her teeth down, determined not to turn around again or waver and hail the cab. If they were tears, they were crocodile ones. She was a kid, a kid who liked it fast and easy, and that was all. The tears were a figment of Dex's imagination. Tears from Gena would be tears of anger, frustration at having been cast aside so easily.
Well, good riddance, Dex mumbled to herself. An eye for an eye. She would not give Gena the satisfaction of seeing her irritated. She could yell "shit" at her all the way down the block.
Oddly enough, the "scaredy cat" had had more effect. As she kept on walking, the words drilled through her. There was something childish in Gena's approach to the whole dilemma of illicit love affairs. She made it sound like a game of pickle-in-the-middle. All one had to do was catch the woman who happened to be flying past. Little could Gena know about such temperamental personalities as Ryan.
The irritation spun round and round. Mentally, Dex could not throw off the shadow of Gena's taunting voice.
She was still thinking about Gena when she entered the apartment and looked around for Ryan.
She heard the water turned up full force and splashing against the bathtub. Dex heaved a sigh of relief. Obviously Ryan was sober, otherwise she wouldn't have either the steady hand or the interest to run a bath. She'd just flop down on the bed and fall asleep. The fact that Ryan had stayed out all night and come home sober was newsworthy.
"Dex, where the hell are you?"
Dex snorted in response to the familiar voice seeking her out. The night's depression began to lift. Ryan was home. Life would continue in its usual pattern. They would talk. Work up to a fight probably. Then go to bed. Maybe the phone would ring, and a strange woman's voice would ask for Ryan. Dex would tell the voice that no such person lived there. And thus would fade Ryan's latest venture into unfaithfulness.
As Dex went toward the sound of Ryan's voice, she could see Gena sticking out her tongue and calling scaredy cat again. Gena was right, damn it. She was afraid, afraid to talk back to Ryan, afraid of rejection, the end of their relationship, in fact, just about afraid of her own shadow. The pleasure she had felt at hearing Ryan's familiar call now vanished. Replacing it was bitterness at her own ability to get walked all over. Twice within two hours.
Gena wouldn't take all this guff from Ryan. Gena would probably get into the bathtub herself and make Ryan scrub her back.
Dex pushed the bathroom door open and peered into the billows of rising steam.
Ryan lay the full-length of the tub. The heel of one foot was propped on the faucet and water lapped along her smooth, tanned thigh. All of her glistened as though she had been rubbed down with oil. The pampered breasts floated among soap bubbles. They were round and fully developed, and their nipples were a deep red.
The languorous way she sponged her body with the soft terrycloth intensified the impression of voluptuous flesh. Every inch of her body was carefully cared for, pummeled by masseuses, oiled and delicately suntanned and then licked passionately by Dex. The full curve of her hips was hidden by the water, but the shadow of her bushy pubic hair was tantalizingly visible through the splash of suds and perfumed water.
She lay the washcloth across her forehead and closed her eyes as Dex entered the steamy bathroom. The thick shadow made veils on her lids. A tiny nerve twitched above the lashes just before she opened her eyes. They were a dark, intriguing blue, the color of dusk.
Dex swallowed hard as all the old feelings for Ryan came upon her with a rush. No cute eighteen-year-old body could match this pampered woman's flesh. Its full curves, perfect cheekbones and demeanor which expected slavish attention were irresistible to Dex.
"Hi, butch," Ryan said. "Watcha been doing?" She spread her fingers through her dark hair and lifted it, dripping from her neck. "First time in five years you aren't home when I get in…"
Ryan was speaking with the voice of one of the low-down characters that she played in soap operas. It was the voice she used when an anger was taking over that she wanted to control.
Dex got the message. Ryan, who stayed out all the time whenever she pleased with seemingly little concern for Dex's reaction, was demanding an explanation. How could she have stood this attitude for so many years? Her eyes feasted on the richly sexual body bathing in the tub and gave her the answer. She was hopelessly in love with Ryan's body, her assurance of feminine beauty, her arrogance, her selfishness. Dex was a fool and a masochist, she decided, accusing herself in the third person like a prisoner before a judge. Emotionally and physically Ryan held her in bondage. She could never have enough of that body, those lips, the random attention she got from Ryan. She was hooked, as surely as if she plunged a needle into her veins every day.
And yet there was Gena. How had that happened? What had made her desire that body, young and smooth where Ryan was full and luscious? And what was worse was that Dex had not come out much better with the girl than with Ryan. Both had walked all over her.
With an audible sight of despair at her inability to control the people she loved, even to make them care for her properly, she sat down on the edge of the tub.
"So what's new," said Dex, picking the wash cloth off of Ryan's forehead and plunging it into the water where she let its folds randomly sink down and caress Ryan's body.
"That's what's new, buster, you and your nighttime romps," Ryan answered testily.
"It shouldn't come as a surprise," said Dex, losing her cool, "I've had the best teacher in the world. Just took a lesson from the master, that's all. As they say, two can play that game."
"Fuck!"
"Right. What about you? You get yourself licked good and…" Dex's sentence was cut short by Ryan. She picked the washcloth out of the water and threw it violently at Dex. The wet cloth landed on her neck then fell to her lap, soaking her.
"Well, congratulations, Dex. I take it this is the first time for you." Dex controlled her anger, picking up the cloth and tossing it back into the tub. Her eyes drank in Ryan's body greedily despite herself. Damn it, why couldn't she see Ryan for what she was, a bitch in need of a good whipping?
"Maybe. Maybe," Dex answered vaguely. She, of course, had no intention of talking about Gena. Ryan had no real proof she had brought anyone back to the apartment.
"Well, Dex, there was a distinct odor of cunt in this house as I opened the door. Couldn't have been you masturbating on the couch, that's not like you. You'd rather give your cunt a rupture rather than satisfy yourself. You like suffering."
Dex felt herself coming to the boiling point again. Ryan's words were even more infuriating because they were true, every last one. And they hurt her. In contrast to Ryan. Truth ran off her like water off a duck's back.
"So what if I did bring some one home and make it with them," Dex blurted out. "It's all fair and square."
"Oh no it isn't, honey, because the rules state that no other sex object shall enter this apartment but me. Dig it?" Ryan's beautiful face was now twisted in a sneer. With amazing calm Dex wondered whether Ryan really got pleasure from acting like a selfish bitch. It didn't seem possible and yet…
"Ryan, there are no rules for screwing around. Except maybe get it and lay it before it gets you…" Dex heard herself saying these words as if she were a third person on the bathroom. She wasn't even sure she knew what they meant. They were a defense, a barrage of words to hide the pain she felt at bickering with Ryan. If only that third person could break in and stop this nonsense. She felt a grin of triumph spread over her face as Ryan could find no words to answer.
It felt good not to be a sucker, this once. She looked Ryan directly in the eyes and grinned with an overflowing of self-satisfaction. Just this once she had matched Ryan's infidelity tit for tat.
"Congratulations," Ryan said, her eyelids lowering. "My congratulations."
Ryan took a bar of soap and began to work it along one arm. Slowly, she sank deeper into the water until it reached her chin. She closed her eyes and sighed.
Dex watched Ryan's attempt at nonchalance. Underneath that lazy exterior, Ryan was throwing a thousand fits, but she would never admit to even one of them.
"The whole world's a con act," Dex threw out as a truce.
She leaned over and kissed Ryan lightly on one wet nipple. The soap tasted harsh to her tongue but it was worth it just to make some small contact with the woman. The nipple replied to Dex's attention by stiffening slightly. Dex felt the burning sensation deep in her groin revive. Her thighs reminded her of how she ached for fulfillment. There was something uncomfortable about her sex, a feeling that her pussy was sealed shut, dried out, made worthless and unworkable. The burning inside her could find no release.
Dex sat gazing at Ryan's bobbing breasts in the water as the woman she loved continued lathering her limbs with the bar of soap. Every movement brought some part of her anatomy forcefully into sexual perspective. For a split second Dex could see herself going mad and throwing herself into the bathtub in order to finally possess this female creature and be satisfied.
"Well, I'm not going to be like other women," Ryan said. "I mean I'm not going to ask you how you liked it."
Before Dex could come back with a reply, Ryan put her hand up till her dripping fingers encircled Dex's throat. The first touch was almost alarming, as if she would have liked to strangle her lover. Then, gently, Ryan began to massage the tight skin beneath Dex's chin line, plying it in slow circles with thumb and forefinger.
The unexpected touch of Ryan's hand broke down her last thread of resistance. What use was it to pretend that she didn't want Ryan even for a second. Anybody could see the sham of it. At the first touch of this woman's hand, all her insides had gone crazy with desire. Any time Ryan wanted her to stroke her, lick her, suck her, she'd come running. All it took was a stroke of Ryan's finger and everything was lost.
Something in Dex now told her to control her lust enough so that Ryan would never suspect that her trick had not satisfied her. No, that would be too humiliating. True, they had not really had time…
Dex bit her lower lip. They had not had time, Gena and herself, because Gena had been too concerned with her own pleasure to make time. Dex's own satisfaction had been replaced by a plate of sausages and French toast.
Now the fire that Gena had started began, again, to burn high in Dex's flesh. Self-control had never been one of her strong points. Not when it came to sex, anyway. Admittedly, she craved fulfillment. She had wanted it to be Gena who would complete the act by giving her the attention and orgasm she wanted. Now, that seemed impossible. Gena was off in some taxi, probably home by now and asleep. She didn't have the girl's address. She never even asked for her last name or phone number. As usual she was at Ryan's mercy.
If only just this once she could keep Ryan from knowing that. Her lover expected she'd had a good sexual workout. The bitchy remark about the smell of cunt in the room underlined the jealousy she felt. If only Dex would have the control to work on that, to remain cool as those fingers massaged over her neck.
Instead, Dex once again lowered her mouth to the tip of Ryan's nipple. She sucked almost audibly on the rubbery point of flesh, giving it her undivided attention until she slipped her lips off it and moved them hungrily up the soapy curve of her breast.
"So you still want me," Ryan said, her voice gratified.
Dex closed her eyes. She was putty in Ryan's hands.
"I love you," she said. "If you stopped running long enough to look, you'd see it."
Ryan grunted. They had been over that terrain before. Some women just needed to know they were desirable to everyone. Ryan could never be satisfied with knowing that Dex loved her. They both knew that. And yet, they stayed together, occasionally hatching dreams of fidelity and eternal companionship.
Dex's mind ranged masochistically to the first time Ryan had made love to another woman.
It had been at a party, very much like the one that night. But it had been more intimate and more sexual. Dex had not wanted to go, and especially she had not wanted Ryan to be there. She had feared for her hold on the young woman; the beautiful actress everyone envied as her lover. Something inside her had instinctively warned her that Ryan would never survive that much attention focused on her. She would have to flaunt it, give herself to it. And she had.
A woman, tall and leggy, almost as statuesquely beautiful as Ryan herself, had been the straw that broke the back of their fidelity up to that point. Ironically, it had been a friend of Bobbi Morton, thought Dex.
Dex's mind forced her to replay the events, to watch from a corner of the room as the two women danced slowly together, rubbing their breasts and cunts against each other. Once again she felt tears and anger fighting inside her.
As if the display of their dancing had not been enough, the two women left the dance floor and marched indiscreetly to the bedroom. Eyes followed them playfully. Dex had wanted to disappear through the floor.
Instead she found herself edging open the half closed bedroom door to watch. What she saw angered and excited her at the same time.
The two women lay naked in each other's arms, licking every inch of flesh ferociously. Ryan had slipped her body down so that her mouth rested on the model's taut breasts. She had slipped her lips over the red nipple, pulling it out, stretching it to full stiffness while her free hand caressed downward till it reached the woman's crotch.
Just Ryan's hand on the woman's crotch had changed the scene on the bed violently. In seconds they were in sixty-nine position, their thighs spread wide so that they could plunge their tongues as deeply into each other's cunts as possible. Facing Dex had been the woman's full spread ass, the crack between her round white cheeks spread open to reveal her puckered asshole and the faint line of pubic down running to her cunt lips. Ryan's head had bobbed up and down, her tongue stretched out of her full, wide-open mouth, in order to lick up the swollen cunt lips and to titillate the distended clitoris.
She had listened to their grunts silently. They had gone at each other's bodies like two hungry animals. Dex remembered the desolation at feeling that she had obviously never really satisfied Ryan if she could react like this to another woman. Her sense of failure made her timid, stopped her from rushing into the room and pulling the two of them apart.
Despite herself, her fingers had rubbed over her breasts as she had watched the two of them. They were two bitches in heat, devouring each other, tugging each other to orgasm. They had aroused her incredibly. Her nipples had rubbed her blouse almost painfully. The burning sensation in her pussy had sent her hand down to satisfy herself automatically.
Dex had lost control watching them in heated fascination. Her hand had slipped inside her slacks, in between her panties and the smooth flesh of her belly and had thrust downward. Burying her fingers in her cunt, stroking her clit, plunging her fingers up her juicy hole, she had continued watching. The two had licked and sucked each other's cunts with passionate precision. She had watched, unable to control her hand, stroking herself to orgasm.
She could still see that scene as plainly as if it were happening now right in front of her. The hoarse grunting as they had sucked each other closer and closer to their peak. The juices running over Ryan's full sucking mouth. The thrust of the model's wide, full ass as she shoved it down on her lover's face. The gleam of sweat on the woman's back.
And then they had come, together, their bodies simultaneously wracked with spasms and cries of lust. Her own finger had darted forcefully over her cunt, trying to match the double orgasm in front of her, and, in that way, to become a part of it. Somehow if they all came at the same time she would not feel so abandoned.
Her face drenched with her own saliva and the model's cunt juices, Ryan had suddenly noticed Dex standing in the doorway, slightly doubled over with her arm half way inside her slacks. Instead of shock, a flicker of a grin had played over her mouth.
"You should have joined us, Dex," was her only statement until they had gotten home. Then all hell had broken loose. The honeymoon was over. And it never had begun again.
Reliving the entire scene, Dex wondered why she had clung to Ryan all those years since. Her eyes now refocused on Ryan stretched out in the bathtub. The two nipples on her floating breasts were stiff with anticipation. The answer was right in front of her. She just could never get enough of Ryan. Punishment or pleasure, it made no difference as long as the woman was there.
Ryan's forehead was creased in a scowl.
"Dex, I'm talking to you!"
"What? I was thinking of something else. Sorry. What did you say?" asked Dex vaguely, trying to shake her mind out of the past and back into this situation in the bathroom. As if to help bring reality back, she reached down and picked up the wash cloth and rubbed Ryan's neck and then her breasts with it.
"Well, it's ironic," Ryan said. "For the first time in I don't know how many years, I was faithful to you last night."
The words struck her full in the face, but Dex felt nothing. She was numb to this kind of irony now. So what if a fluke of fate had given her her first infidelity and had kept Ryan faithful. Ryan had gone out looking for a new woman. It didn't make any real difference that she had not found one to her liking.
Dex leaned down and played her tongue over the outline of Ryan's chin. In seconds her tongue flicked over the full, sensuously curved lips, then plunged in. She kissed Ryan passionately, lolling her tongue lazily around the small warm mouth, sucking at her tongue, drawing the woman's breath into her own mouth. She opened her eyes as she kissed for a second and was met by Ryan's startled gaze: Dex stopped kissing and drew back.
"Don't you want to know anything about it?" asked Ryan, almost plaintively. Dex tried to hide her smile of pleasure.
So, unexpectedly, she now found herself in control of the situation. Ryan couldn't understand how Dex remained so calm. Well, Dex hardly understood it herself.
"How come?" she asked simply because Ryan was waiting for her to inquire.
"That's how it is sometimes. I don't know."
Dex lifted an eyebrow in surprise. She had expected some complicated tirade.
"That's not much of an explanation," Dex blurted out.
"Double irony," replied Ryan. "Now you want me to explain why I was faithful to you."
Dex wasn't impressed. Maybe Ryan was beginning to get tired, slow down. Maybe the old race horse was just tired of the course. There was no way to tell what might be going on inside Ryan's head. All Dex could count on was a new sense of freedom.
Yes, freedom, a voice spoke in her head. She had cut the chains. No longer did she feel obligated to Ryan in the same way. No longer would she watch and wait for Ryan to come home. No longer would she suffer the tortures that Ryan inflicted without concern.
"Now it's my turn," Dex said, half aloud, half to herself.
"Don't talk about it," Ryan said abruptly. She reached up and stroked her fingers down inside the collar of Dex's shirt. "Let's pretend that it all never happened."
With a whoosh of water, Ryan sat up. She pressed her cool mouth firmly to Dex's lips.
The wet body left water soaked through her clothes, and Dex shuddered with the sensuality of contact. Ryan wanted her. And now, because of Gena, the fact that an unknown person had come between them in some way, Ryan was ready to give Dex everything.
Silly, childish little Gena had suddenly given her so much. Dex wanted to shake her head in amazement, maybe burst out laughing at the absurdity of the situation. True to habit, however, she responded fully to Ryan's ploy. The beautiful body pressing against her, the firm flesh soaking through her clothing, destroyed her will. She wanted that body. She wanted it now.
She lifted Ryan out of the tub and dragged her, dripping wet, into the bedroom. Dex flung her onto the unmade bed and climbed in beside her. As she covered Ryan's body with kisses, a small voice whispered inside her head: scaredy cat.