Gerri Hill - One Summer Night

caressing her back. Jo's freed hand slid slowly up Kelly's shoulder, and she touched her face, her fingers lightly tracing Kelly's cheek, thumb touching Kelly’s lips. Oh, how she ached to kiss those lips.

They said nothing. Not one word. Jo knew that if they had, she would have been able to resist. She would have remembered Sherry, the beautiful blonde. She would have remembered Christy's words about Kelly's list of girlfriends.

She would have remembered Deb’s warnings. She would have thought of Lucy. But they didn’t speak. There was no need. Their bodies spoke for them.

When Kelly turned her head, Jo was waiting, and their lips met, softly, gently, and Jo opened under her, accepting her tongue, meeting it with her own. How she wanted this woman! Kelly moved her away from the dancers, and Jo felt the wall behind her. She reached blindly for Kelly. They took what they both needed, what they both wanted, up against the same wall as before. Pent up desire, now released, stormed through them. They had been so hungry all these months, and now they could feast. Jo forgot about the others in the room. It was just the two of them, as their lips moved together eagerly.

The third song began softly, and Kelly moved her hands between them, her back shielding Jo from the other dancers, caressing Jo’s breasts. Jo cried out, and Kelly's mouth was there, covering hers as her fingers traced Jo’s swollen nipples through her shirt. Jo's hands, on either side of Kelly's face, held her near. Her mouth couldn't get enough of Kelly.

Their kisses were hot, wet and hard. Her own hands moved down, yearning to touch Kelly. They settled on her full breasts, cupping them intimately.

"Do you remember?" Kelly demanded. “Do you remember how it felt when I touched you? When I was inside you?”

Jo groaned and pulled Kelly hard against her. Her legs 93

opened and Kelly pressed her thigh there, causing Jo to cry out again.

“I remember your hands on me,” Kelly whispered. “I remember your mouth on me, your tongue inside me.”

Jo felt drugged, and she strained to touch Kelly through her blouse as her mouth opened to Kelly’s insistent tongue.

"Do you remember every detail of that night?" Kelly demanded.

"Yes, you know I do," Jo breathed into her mouth.

Disoriented and confused, Kelly moved her again onto the dance floor. She wasn't ready. She had not had nearly enough of Kelly’s sweet kisses, but seconds later the song ended, and the lights were turned up. She was stunned by the desire she saw in Kelly's eyes, sure that her own revealed as much. She felt captivated by those eyes. She couldn't look away, and she was very sorry that the slow songs had ended.

The other dancers left the floor, and they soon drew apart, their eyes still glued to one another.

"You know I want you," Kelly said bluntly.

"Yes."

"You want me, too," she accused.

"Yes," Jo admitted. "But I can't."

"You're a very stubborn woman."

"I'm sorry," Jo whispered.

Kelly simply nodded, and they walked back to the table, hands still clutched together. Jo was surprised a short time later when Kelly stood up and said she was leaving. Jo expected, at the very least, another dance with her. She told everyone good-bye and that she would see them at the game next week. Telling Sharon to have a wonderful birthday night, she gave Mattie an exaggerated wink. She looked at Jo for only a second and gave her a quick smile.

"See you at school.” And she was gone.

All the joy had gone out of the evening for Johanna, and 94

she stayed only a little longer, reluctantly dancing with Deb again, feeling smothered by being held so close to her. She didn't want to wonder why Deb’s touch did nothing for her, why her touch could not arouse the same feelings Kelly's had.

Driving home with the sunroof open and the window rolled down she let the cool breeze blow across her face. She drove slowly on the empty streets, not in a hurry to get to her lonely house.

That night, after her shower, she crawled naked into bed and only then did she allow herself to think of Kelly. She waited for the shame and guilt to come, but it didn't. What they had done, they had both wanted, and they had both wanted more. Yet Jo was grateful Kelly had not pressed. If she had insisted they leave and come here to her bed, Jo would have agreed without hesitation, and she would have been miserable in the morning. It was not what she needed.

Kelly was not for her, despite what Jo’s body said. The attraction between them was real, genuine, but that was all there was — all there ever could be. Johanna knew she would never be able to let Kelly into her heart. She had been hurt too badly before by someone just like her. She didn't want to go through that again. Ever.

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Chapter Twelve

Sunday was a beautiful fall day, and she spent it with Harry. Instead of their usual brunch, they drove to Fredricksburg, had lunch at an outdoor cafe, then walked the streets of the old German town, window shopping and spying gifts for Christmas. Artists displayed their talents on the sidewalks and spectators paused to appreciate the local talent. As they walked arm-in-arm through the crowded streets, Harry reminisced about the town, how it had grown from a small berg to the touristy bed-and-breakfast town it was today.

Later that afternoon, they drove back to Austin through Johnson City, home of the late president, and stopped at the famous beer joint in Luckenbach for a cold longneck. They 96

sat in the shade of the giant oaks and watched a washer tournament that some of the locals had started.

“Beth and I used to come here and play washers,” Harry mused, a faraway look in his eyes.

Jo watched as young and old alike attempted to toss round, metal washers into cups that were buried in the sand.

“It doesn’t look like a lot of fun,” Jo admitted.

“Well, just a different kind of fun,” he said. “Now, Beth, she had the eye. She could put that washer in the cup every time.” He tapped Jo’s leg and pointed. “Watch.”

A man about Harry’s age turned the washer nervously in his hand as he eyed the cup, nearly twenty feet away.

Then, with a graceful underhanded toss, sent the washer sailing through the air. The small crowd cheered when they heard the washer land in the cup.

They took their time finishing the beer, both of them enjoying the washer game.

"Are you doing okay, Jo-Jo?" Harry asked on the way back.

"I'm fine."

"You’re so quiet lately. Do you need to talk?"

"Oh, Harry.” She laughed. She had always been able to tell him anything. She had cried on his shoulder many a night after Nancy had left.

"You're troubled about something, honey."

"Yes. I guess I am," she admitted.

It was his turn to laugh. "What's her name?"

"What makes you think it's because of a woman?"

"Because I've seen that look before," he said simply.

"Yes. I've met someone."

"And?"

"I like her," she admitted.

"And that's not good?"

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"I don't think I want to like her.” She glanced at him.

"She's not my type."

"If she's not your type, why do you like her?" he asked.

Good question. Why, indeed? Because she’s like Nancy?

Kelly is nothing like Nancy. Except for her reputation, Jo conceded.

"I don't know.” She smiled at him. "I'll be fine, Harry.

Don't worry."

He reached over and patted her leg, then was silent. She loved him for it.

The next day at school, she was dreading running into Kelly. What would she say to her? But she didn’t see Kelly all day.

The next day, at twelve-thirty, a light knock on her closed door startled her. Glancing at the clock, she swallowed, knowing who it was.

"Come in," she called.