Little Disquietude (21 page)

Adam began a second round of toasts, and then
the conductor stood up, and then the designer. Leah barely
listened, thinking instead of what she might say. Her stomach
churned. Adam passed her the bottle of champagne, mostly empty, and
she took it to the center of the room. There was Sophia, smiling
supportively at her, with an enchanting light in her eyes. There
was Ward, and Eric, and Daniel, and Adam.

Her friend Adam.

She lifted the bottle to Adam and said, "I
know I should have my diva moment now, but all I can say is thank
you." She crossed the room and kissed him. "Thank you."

He bowed.

She went around the room, to Ward first, to
Sophia last, kissing each one on the cheek, hugging them, and
saying, "Thank you." Then she went back to the center of the room,
flung her head back to gaze at the ceiling, spread her arms wide,
and hollered, "Thank you!"

Everyone whooped and applauded as she drank
the last of the champagne straight from the bottle. Fizz ran down
her chin.

Ward got a third bottle and uncorked it with
flamboyant style, winking as the froth ran over his fingers. "Well,
if she's not going to be a diva, I'll be that enough for the both
of us." He droned on.

Leah returned to Sophia, who slipped her arm
around Leah's waist and whispered, "Thank you for letting me be a
part of this."

"Of course."

"Really. This is so... Look at you. Just a
handful. It's so intimate. And you guys did something so amazing.
All on your own, because you wanted to."

"People paid a lot of money so we could,"
Leah said. "But that's even more incredible. I know. I know." She
kissed Sophia's cheek, and then nestled into her.

After toasts, Adam forbade them from talking
any more about the show, promising that they could all look forward
to tomorrow night at eight o'clock, when the senior citizens of
Rosemont Circle and the paroles of Durham County Jail would be
coming to see them, along with the usual ticket-holders. Then he
turned to Eric, the assistant stage manager, and asked him about
his cats.

Eric's expression lit up with joy. He took
the center of the room and regaled them with a story of his wife's
phone call to him, which made him glad to be in Durham and not in
New York. "Your cat climbed the curtains today," he said, mimicking
his wife's voice. "What will the neighbors think?" He shrugged.
"She thinks since I'm in the South, I should buy a BB gun. I told
her I was an artist, and she said, 'Christ, then buy a pink
one.'"

They all talked well into the night, as the
alcohol muted their exhaustion and it faded to tiredness, and when
they felt they could sleep, people filed out into the night, brave
in their intoxication. Adam offered peanuts and DVDs of Andrew
Lloyd Webber musicals, but Leah smiled at Sophia, took her hand and
said goodnight to everyone else.

Her clothes were off as soon as her bedroom
door shut. The waiting had made the room fill with floral scents,
heady and strong. Sophia shucked her pajamas, muttering about how
satin tore. Leah pushed her down onto the bed, keeping Adam's words
about the show at heart, deciding not to care about anything but
the naked body underneath her. And how much she wanted Sophia.
Already she ached.

She worked her hand down and found Sophia's
center, wet and waiting for her searching fingers. Sophia cried
out. She offered herself to Leah, spreading her legs. Leah's desire
intensified. Her need was no longer relieved by squirming against
Sophia's thigh. Her fingertips tingled. Her skin burned. She moved
against Sophia's body, seeking closeness. Her hand was ineffectual
to mute Sophia's needful whimpers, so she moved down between
Sophia's legs and buried her face.

Sophia's hand on her head was bold and her
pleading hoarse. This was not a night of exploration. This was need
and energy and celebration that had turned to lust and Leah could
only succumb. She licked at folds and crevices, tasting Sophia,
seeking to be even closer. When Sophia writhed, her fingers
tightening in just such a way that Leah knew her own desires were
echoed, she stilled lips against Sophia, holding herself still
until her jaw ached. When Sophia relented, Leah teased, sliding her
tongue inside, lapping and stroking. She became addicted to
Sophia's taste, Sophia's heat, Sophia's texture.

Leah refused to leave the intimacy of the
moment. Sophia screamed, loud enough to shake the house, quaking
enough to shake the bed, making it bang against the wall. Leah
winced as Sophia bucked, hitting her teeth, and then Sophia
clenched her thighs.

Leah experimentally flicked her tongue.
Sophia yelped. Another shudder went through her. Leah smiled.

Sophia let out an exhausted giggle and
loosened her grip. She tugged on Leah's hair. Leah crawled up to
kneel over her. Sophia met Leah's gaze, and pulled on a strand of
hair.

Leah grinned.

"I had plans," Sophia said.

"To put on a show for Ward and Adam?"

"To show you how much I
appreciated--loved--seeing you tonight."

"I think that came across."

Sophia blushed. She pulled Leah down for a
hug. Sophia's hands moved over her back, stroking, pressing. "Do
you have any idea what I can do with my mouth?"

Leah remembered the talent in Sophia's
fingers and shivered. Sophia scratched her spine.

"Did you go to Summer Stock for Sex or
something?" Leah asked.

Sophia laughed. "My mom always said that
something worth doing is worth doing right."

"I love your mother."

"Your mother is a little scary,"

"I know." Leah inhaled. "I'm going to tell
her, tomorrow."

"About us?"

Leah shook her head. "That I'm gay."

Sophia rubbed her back.

Leah lifted her head and smiled. Sophia
kissed her jaw. "Then you should be as gay as possible,
tonight."

"Earn my shame?"

"Believe me," Sophia said, her voice becoming
low and seductive, "You have nothing to be ashamed about."

"Let's keep trying," Leah said.

She kissed Sophia, who touched her cheek and
stroked the curve of her ear. Leah was still sprawled on top of
Sophia, content to marvel in the ways they pressed together, calmer
than the last night's nervous explorations. She began to roll off
to the side, still kissing, but Sophia stopped her.

Sophia tugged her lip between her teeth,
released it, and asked, "How good are your knees?"

Arousal shot down Leah’s spine to pool
between her legs. She managed to stammer, "They're fine? I mean,
they're--fine."

"It's your night. I want you to feel
powerful."

Leah had never felt more powerless, paralyzed
and weak from lust, the saliva drying in her mouth as she gaped at
Sophia. Sophia stuck out her tongue in an unmistakable signal.

Leah lunged forward, opening her mouth to
Sophia's tongue, kissing her until desire overpowered hesitation
and she sat up to straddle Sophia's abdomen. Sophia's nipples
strained upward, tempted her. She touched one, experimentally
tugging. Sophia arched underneath her.

"We have all night," Leah said.

Sophia nodded and closed her eyes.

Her responsiveness, the way she quivered when
Leah ran her finger down between her breasts, meant that for Leah
sex never been so enjoyable. She resolved to follow Sophia's
footsteps along the path of pleasure. She bent her knees into the
pillow that framed Sophia's head, and before she could ask,
"Really?" Sophia grabbed her ass, yanking her into position.

"God," she said, as Sophia began to nuzzle
her inner thigh.

"How loud can you scream?"

Leah clutched the headboard and, at the first
touch of Sophia's agile tongue, screamed. She did feel powerful in
that position, her hips rising instead of crushed and safe under
Sophia as she'd felt last night. Her destiny lay in the strength of
her leg muscles, in where she was willing to let Sophia's tongue
travel. She pushed her face against the wall and panted.

Sophia's firm tongue stroked her quickly.
Leah said, "Inside." Sophia shifted Leah's hips and the tongue
flicked inside her, circling her, leaving her clit exposed. Leah
dropped a hand between her legs and stroked herself, letting
Sophia's tongue penetrate her, slip out and lap at her with
soothing strokes before entering again. Leah groaned with every
breath, her thighs shaking, hand moving rapidly. The climax came
suddenly, sending her thudding against the wall, the wallpaper as
textured against her cheek as Sophia's tongue. She screamed. All of
her desire and lust and happiness had colluded for this shattering,
white hot moment that took her apart and put her back together,
shuddering and light-headed. She let Sophia see everything, even
the vulnerability that followed like a wave.

She lifted her hips away from Sophia,
trembling in the aftermath, afraid if she moved she'd fall off the
bed.

Sophia's hands cupped her ass, and then
Sophia moved to crouch behind her, wrapping strong, sturdy arms
around her. Leah took a deep breath and let herself fall backward
into Sophia's embrace.

Sophia kissed her neck, saying, "I have no
idea how you keep that all contained on stage."

"I had no idea it was there."

Sophia twisted and brought them down into a
sitting, snuggling position against the headboard.

Leah kissed Sophia and said, "Let's stay up
all night and make love."

"Okay. As long as we can have champagne
between kisses."

Leah squinted at her.

Sophia grinned." I'm thirsty."

Leah flung on her T-shirt and jeans, leaving
them unbuttoned, and padded downstairs for champagne. She ran into
no one, which meant that it took her a good five minutes to get the
bottle open and another five minutes to find where Adam kept the
right glasses. She skipped back upstairs to find Sophia still
gloriously naked, spread out on her bed, waiting for her.

To stand in the door, drink champagne, and
bring herself off again was tempting. But Sophia extended a hand to
her. She went back to bed. Sophia drank champagne. Leah blew
against the top of the bottle, smiling at the noise, and then set
the bottle and her glass on the floor. She felt sticky and grubby
and the bedsheets were the same, but there was no thought of
cleansing. Not from this. Not yet.

Sophia dipped a finger in her glass and
painted Leah's lips. The bubbles made them tingle. Leah licked away
the champagne and Sophia kissed her. They kissed languidly, sitting
against the pillows, chuckling between brushes of their lips.
Sophia's hand settled on Leah's breast, squeezing through her
T-shirt. Heat rose anew in Leah, and she asked, "Slower? Because I
don't think I can go slower."

Giggling, Sophia kissed the corner of her
mouth, and slid her hand under Leah's shirt to stroke. In
retaliation, Leah reached between Sophia's legs. Sophia clamped her
legs around Leah's hand and shook her head.

"No?"

"I'll come like a rocket."

Leah shifted to bring Sophia into her arms,
sitting between her raised knees." I'm not sure I understand the
metaphor."

Sophia elbowed her.

"Ow."

Sophia scoffed, and then snuggled back
against Leah. "You feel really good."

"The shirt's 100% cotton." Leah ran her
fingers up Sophia's thigh, and she dipped toward Sophia's center.
Sophia exhaled and then swallowed audibly when Leah's hand settled
over her.

"There?" Leah asked.

"There," Sophia whispered.

Wetness coated Leah's fingers. She explored
further, fondling Sophia, sliding one finger between her folds and
then retreating again to squeeze a thigh and leave slick
fingerprints.

"We're going slow," Leah said.

Sophia drank champagne, settled into Leah's
arms, and then tried different moans, gasps, and whimpers to coax
Leah into breaking her word.

Leah woke to the scent of coffee. She rolled
onto her back, and winced as sunlight penetrated her eyelids.
Passion had finally given way to exhaustion, but probably not soon
enough for the day ahead. She imagined her bedroom awash in white
glow. She opened her eyes and so it was. Coffee. She sat up. If the
reviews had been good, Adam would have come into her room, pounded
on her until she woke up, and shoved the paper into her face.

A feeling of dread sank into her. She got up
slowly, wincing at the twinge in her back. Thirty-four wasn't old
for that much sex. She protested the universe, and was rewarded by
seeing Sophia, sprawled on her stomach across the bed, beautiful
with sunlight touching her back.

Leah glanced at the floor, prodded her jeans
with a toe, and decided to shower. The room stank of sex. She
assumed she did, too. The newspaper would still be there in ten
minutes.

* * *

She went downstairs in a corduroy dress she
couldn't remember why she packed. Adam sat in the kitchen drinking
coffee in his satin bathrobe and Ward was making breakfast.

"This can't be good," she said.

"He's despondent," Ward said.

"Hardly," Adam said and pushed the newspaper
toward her.

"
Durham News-Star
. Filthy rag. Hey,
there's me!"

Her picture with Sophia, both beaming at
Glick's camera, graced the first page of the art section, below the
fold, next to the headline, "Poe's Raven Flies In, Takes Crap on
Stage."

"He liked you," Adam said.

Leah scanned the article until she came to,
"Leah Fisher (Virginia) proved why she's the ringer in this year's
season after Elaine White's retirement. Her voice gave remarkable
depth to the lyrics. Her acting, though earnest, wry, and bold, was
a strong reminder that the playwright had given her a one-note
part." She glanced at Adam.

"I'm sorry for not writing you a better
part," he said.