The Water's Edge

By Mavis Applewater

yomavis@email.com

November 2001

Disclaimers: I know who they look like and, trust me, it's not them. The story and its characters belong to the author and may not be reproduced, posted, or sold without the author's permission. So there! This story contains a loving sexual relationship between two consenting adult women. If for any reason you find this concept disturbing or unappealing then do us all a favor and don't read it. If for any reason it is illegal for you to view such material then do me a favor and don't read it. If you get a fortune cookie that's empty, is that a bad sign?

Thanks to my beta reader Joanne.

As always, this is for Heather.

PART ONE

Jobeth looked out the window of her cabin once again and sighed. She'd needed this vacation and for the first couple of days she'd relaxed, read, and gone for walks in the woods and by the river. It was very serene and calming. It also bored her to tears. Now it was raining, not just a little rain but a full-fledged storm that had blown in seemingly out of nowhere. It was spring and the changeable weather wasn't that surprising. It just increased her level of boredom. "I really need to get a satellite dish and an Internet hookup for this place," the tall brunette grumbled as she continued to stare out at the dark stormy sky.

Jobeth had inherited the cabin from her Aunt Helen. The elderly woman had always doted on Jobeth and no one was surprised when she left her little haven to the travel agent. There was some grumbling from other members of the family but Jobeth ignored them and she happily accepted the gift from her late aunt. Helen had never married and had no children, something she and Jobeth had in common. Aunt Helen had been her friend and confidant over the years. Jobeth had been there for her when the elderly woman took ill.

Life was funny in many ways. Jobeth ran her own little travel agency and yet the tall brunette rarely traveled herself. She had been far too busy building up her business. She'd struggled for years, working endlessly to make her business solvent. Just when it seemed that everything was going well, the world had changed last September. Between the dip in the economy and the sudden fear of traveling, it had seemed like Jobeth was about to lose everything. She'd held strong and started to develop more domestic and safer travel packages. Now once again things were going well for her and her small business.

She had worked hard to keep her business and her employees together. She'd needed a break and, thanks to her late Aunt Helen, she had somewhere to go. She'd always loved spending time at the little cabin in the woods with her aunt. Aunt Helen had kept the place in pristine condition and it possessed all the modern conveniences. Well, almost all of them. There was a full kitchen, bathroom, one bedroom, and a living room with a working fireplace. The cabin was heated and was fully electric. There was even a backup generator. Yet there wasn't the luxury of cable or computer access and Jobeth had neglected to have the phone service turned back on. She had assumed she could just use her cell phone.

Jobeth hadn't stopped to think about how far the cabin was set out of the nearest town; her phone wouldn't receive a signal. She needed this vacation but she worried about not being able to contact the office to ensure things were going well. Her staff was probably ecstatic not to hear from her. Jobeth had planned on driving into town and calling from a payphone but, now that the weather had turned, she was certain that the roads were washed out. There was also a river that ran into a large lake nearby; both were within walking distance of the cabin but far enough away that Jobeth didn't need to fear the water rising high enough to flood the cabin. She'd planned on going over to the large resort across the lake to do some sailing or something; the sudden change in weather had altered her plans.

She was trapped until the storm was over and she was becoming increasingly aware of just how lonely she was. She had friends but lacked a certain something, or rather someone, in her life. Lovers had come and gone without Jobeth finding the one woman that she wanted to share her life with. "Well, this is cheery," she grumbled as she flopped down on the sofa and stared at the fire. "Okay, I came here to get some rest and relaxation so I should do just that," she muttered to herself as she stared at the fire burning brightly in the fireplace.

She sat for a few moments and tried to relax. "Oh yeah, this working." She grunted in dismay. She turned on the old television set in the corner of the room. "Aunt Helen, how did you survive with only three channels?" she griped as she adjusted the rabbit ears, trying to get something to watch. Finally she picked up one of the local stations out of Boston. "Crap, who cares?" she complained as a soap opera came into focus. "Well, at least it's entertainment. Now I can talk to the television instead of myself," she noted with dismay as she flopped back down on the sofa.

"Oh, wake up! He's cheating you!" she shouted at the distraught blonde actress in the soap opera. "Besides that red-headed friend of yours is much cuter." Jobeth laughed. "Now that would certainly make an interesting plot twist. Well, if she wasn't carrying your husband's baby that is." Jobeth's stomach grumbled. The brunette went into the kitchen to fix herself a sandwich and some soup before settling back down on the sofa. Jobeth continued to watch television while offering unheeded advice to the characters on the endless lineup of soap operas. Then she did the same with the guests on the stream of talk shows.

Jobeth was stretched out on the sofa with her long legs dangling off the end. At some point she'd drifted off to sleep. A strangled cry like a hurt animal woke her. She looked at her watch and discovered that she'd been asleep for a couple of hours. She rubbed her weary blue eyes before looking out the window, only to discover that the weather had grown worse. The strangled cry from outside called out once again. Jobeth shook her heard as she listened, uncertain if it was the howling of the wind or an injured animal.

A light rapping on the front door brought her to her feet. She rushed over and threw the door open before she thought about what she was doing. The cold rainy wind assaulted her; her jaw dropped in horror at the sight she discovered. There was a person curled up in a ball on the porch. Jobeth knelt down and brushed away the rain-soaked blonde hair to reveal the pale cherubic features of a woman. "Help me."

"My God," Jobeth choked out as she wrapped the trembling form in her arms.

"He's trying to kill me," the woman said fearfully before she went completely limp in Jobeth's arms.

PART TWO

Bronte stirred slightly; her small body was instantly racked with pain. She opened her emerald eyes as she raised her head. The pain assaulted her and a wave of nausea swept over her body. Her head fell back onto a soft pillow as she snapped her eyes close. It was too late; the bile had risen in her throat. She started to choke and then a warm comforting hand lifted and turned her head. Without opening her eyes, she allowed the contents of her stomach to spill out.

"Shhh, it's all right," a voice whispered in her ear as she slowly regained her composure. A cool damp cloth was pressed against her lips as she was guided back onto the pillow. Once again she opened her eyes to find herself staring into the bluest eyes she had ever seen. She blinked a few times as she tried to understand what was happening. The pain began to throb once again as the vision sitting beside her came into focus. Despite her agony, she was still able to see the beautiful raven-haired beauty seated next to her on the bed. "What hit me?" She moaned as she tried to understand where she was.

"You tell me," the brunette said softly as she gently wiped Bronte's mouth.

"Where am I?" Bronte asked as the brunette stood, holding a pan. Bronte cringed as she realized that she had just thrown up in that pan.

"You're in my cabin about a half mile from Lake Troy," the woman explained. "I found you on my doorstep. How do you feel?"

"Not good," Bronte said as the clouds started to lift from her mind.

"I'll be right back," the woman said softly as she exited the room.

Bronte looked around the charming small bedroom before noticing the bruises on her body. She had a bandage on her hand and one on her brow. She pulled the warm covers over her cold, tired, aching body. As she tried to understand why she was naked in a strange bed, the events of the day came flooding back.

She and her husband, Ralph, were staying at Whispering Pines Lodge. It was a nice resort that sat on the edge of Lake Troy. That morning they ate breakfast together at the lodge. On the surface, everything seemed fine between the couple. Bronte knew that things were not as they seemed. She had to keep reminding herself that Ralph was trying to make things work. The marriage had been troubled for so long that the sudden vacation seemed like a good idea. Two days into the trip, Bronte knew that the romantic getaway wasn't going to help erase the years of distance, the arguing, or his affairs. None of it mattered. It was over. She just didn't know how she was going to tell him.

Ralph had insisted that they take a canoe out that afternoon. Bronte argued that the weather didn't look good but Ralph, being his usual stubborn self, had made the reservation. She finally agreed, thinking that perhaps the time out on the large lake would be the perfect opportunity to discuss things. Ralph insisted on paddling far out despite the darkening skies.

"Ralph, we need to talk," she said once he stopped paddling and the rain began to fall. She looked around the empty lake and realized they were too far out. Before she knew what was happening, she was in the water. As she pulled herself to the surface she thought that the canoe must have capsized. She was surprised as she broke the surface to find the canoe upright and Ralph holding out his hand with a strange gleam in his eyes.

The skies opened up with fury as she swam to the edge of the canoe. She was about to ask her husband what had happened when he pulled her roughly up by her life jacket. She thought he was helping her until she realized that he was actually unbuckling her life jacket. "What are you doing?" she screamed fearfully as she struggled. He loosened the jacket before he forced her head under the water.

She struggled as her husband held her down and tried to pull the vest off her. "Ralph!" she screamed as the garment came off her body. Once again she was pushed down under the surface of the lake. Somehow she managed to free herself. She was gasping when she finally managed to break the surface of the icy water.

Her heart pounded at the feral look in her husband's eyes as he raised one of the oars. Her body was numb; her wet clothing was dragging her down. The oar crashed against her face and she lost consciousness. The next thing she recalled was waking up on the shore. Between the dark skies and the heavy rain, the lake was obscured. She couldn't see if anyone was around.

Knowing that she had to get away from Ralph in case he could still see her, she pulled herself up and stumbled to her feet. She had no idea how long she wandered through the woods searching for some salvation. All she could think of was the pain shooting through her tired body and the fact that the man she'd been married to for the last eight years wanted her dead.

She was exhausted and her wet clothing clung to her body. Unable to stand any longer, she crawled on her hands and knees, her body too numb to feel any pain. She saw the light and tried to call out. Nothing but a strangled cry escaped as she approached the cabin. She crawled onto the porch and managed to weakly knock on the door. She prayed that someone could hear her feeble attempt as she continued to sob.

She remembered someone kneeling beside her as she managed to plead for help. Then everything went blank. "He tried to kill me," she muttered absently, unaware that the dark-haired woman had reentered the room.

"Who tried to kill you?" the stranger asked.

Bronte stared blankly at her savior. "Who tried to kill you?" the stranger repeated slowly as she approached the bed. She sat down carefully next to Bronte's trembling body. Tears slowly traced their way down Bronte's cheeks. Bronte flinched slightly as the strange woman reached over and gently brushed them away. "Why don't I start with something a little less painful?" the woman offered tenderly. "My name is Jobeth and you're safe here."

"Bronte," the blonde whispered softly as she leaned into Jobeth's touch. "Thank you for everything."

"You're welcome," Jobeth said with a shy smile. "But don't thank me just yet. I think I patched you up correctly. I had to remove your clothes so I could get you warmed up; your lips were a little blue. Still, I'm a travel agent not a doctor; I wouldn't be surprised if your arm fell off or something."

Bronte laughed at the outrageous comment and her head instantly objected. "Ouch," she moaned as she winced in pain.

"Sorry," Jobeth quickly apologized. "See? I told you not to thank me just yet. I think you might have a concussion."

"Probably." Bronte moaned. "My husband . . . ," she began slowly. Jobeth's hand quickly retreated from her face. Bronte caught the bewildered look in her eyes. " . . . It was my husband . . . he tried to kill me." It was strange to actually say the words out loud. What was even stranger was the sudden feeling of loss the blonde felt when Jobeth's touch was withdrawn.

"Why?" Jobeth asked in confusion.

"I have no idea," Bronte admitted. "I know we've had our share of problems, but I never thought he wanted me dead. A divorce - sure. But to toss me out of a canoe and slam the paddle across my head . . .. he kept pushing me under and . . . ," Bronte choked out as the tears fell heavily.

Bronte sobbed heavily as Jobeth wrapped her in a warm embrace. "You're safe now," Jobeth whispered softly in her ear as she rubbed her back gently. "As soon as the weather breaks, we'll go to the police and take you to a doctor to make certain I haven't done any permanent damage." Bronte continued to cry as Jobeth rocked her gently in her arms.

Long after Bronte had stopped crying, Jobeth continued to hold her. The blonde was comfortable with her head nuzzled against the tall stranger's chest. "You should try to get some more rest," Jobeth said softly as she lowered the weary Bronte back down to the pillow. "I probably should wake you regularly. I think that's what I'm suppose to do," Jobeth said absently as she got off the bed. "I have some clothes you can wear. They'll be big on you but at least you'll be warm," Jobeth continued as she dug through her bureau drawers. "Do think you could eat something?" she asked, the concern still evident in her voice.

"No," Bronte responded with a slight yawn as her eyes began to droop. "Thank you," she said as Jobeth handed her a pair of sweatpants and an old nightshirt.

"Do you need any help?" Jobeth inquired. Bronte shook her head. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you. If you need anything, just yell."

"Jobeth?" Bronte said tearfully as the taller woman went to the door. Jobeth turned around and looked at her in concern. "You saved my life."

"No . . . I . . . just . . . ," Jobeth stammered in an embarrassed tone.

"Saved my life," Bronte said, cutting her off firmly.

Jobeth shifted nervously before turning off the bedroom lights and leaving the room. Bronte was thankful that Jobeth had left the bedroom door open slightly so she could hear her tall savior wandering about. Bronte pulled the nightshirt over her head, but was too tired to put the pants on. She pulled the covers up slightly and snuggled against the pillow. The scent on the pillow smelled distinctively like her hostess; it was comforting to Bronte's weary mind and body and she quickly drifted off to sleep.

PART THREE

Jobeth rechecked all the windows and doors once again before she returned to the sofa. Bronte's unexpected arrival had certainly eliminated the boredom she'd been complaining about. Now she was on the edge of her seat, wondering what she should do. She sat and listened to the storm. She stoked the fire. And every few seconds she checked on Bronte to reassure herself that the blonde was all right.

Finally Jobeth convinced herself to calm down. She turned the television back on and turned down the volume. She checked her watch and made a mental note as to when she should wake Bronte up again. She stared at the television blankly, listening to the news with little interest until a news report came on about a drowning at Lake Troy.

Jobeth's pulse quickened as she watched the story. "Bastard," she spat out as she listened to Ralph Emery's tearful account of how the canoe had capsized and his wife had slipped from his grasp. He cried as he described how he had tried to save her but the storm had been too much.

"That and you hit me with the oar," a bitter voice said.

"What are you doing up?" Jobeth said quickly as she jumped to her feet and rushed over to Bronte.

"I need to use the washroom," Bronte explained.

"Let me help you," Jobeth said firmly as she gently wrapped one arm around Bronte's waist.

Jobeth assisted the smaller woman to the bathroom and waited just outside the doorway for the blonde. She watched the news carefully. Jobeth's mind drifted as she thought about Bronte. Despite Bronte's battered appearance, Jobeth couldn't help noticing how attractive the small blonde was. Of course, it didn't help that she'd seen the woman naked when she put her to bed. Jobeth had been more than a little surprised when Bronte mentioned her husband. She would have guessed that the athletic blonde played for her team. 'What am I thinking? The woman was almost killed today and I'm ogling her! There is something wrong with me,' Jobeth chastised herself.

She was nudged out of her thoughts when she heard the toilet flushing and the water running in the sink. "All set?" she asked as the door creaked open.

"Yeah," Bronte responded as Jobeth once again wrapped her arm around her waist.

Jobeth helped the blonde into the bedroom and back under the covers. "They think I'm dead," Bronte said in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Jobeth answered reluctantly. "That's good. If he thinks you're dead then he won't come looking for you. I just wish I had the telephone on so we could call the cops now."

"I'm not up for it tonight," Bronte said tiredly.

"It'll be a few days. The roads on this side of the lake were washed out," Jobeth explained. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be." Bronte chuckled lightly. "You know, I've been aware for some time that my husband was a jerk, but I honestly never saw this coming."

"Don't think about it anymore tonight," Jobeth reassured her softly. "Just rest."

Jobeth left the blonde alone once again. She watched the weather with a scowl. It appeared that the rain was going to last for at least a few more days. "Thank you, Aunt Helen, for having this place built on high ground." She sighed in gratitude. "Why did he do it?" Jobeth said aloud to her deceased aunt. She often found herself asking for Aunt Helen's advice even though she had passed on some seven months ago. It was a strange solace to her.

Jobeth continued pretending to watch television while she watched the clock to see if it was time to awaken her blonde guest. She didn't sleep that night; she sat up worrying about Bronte and listening for any sounds emanating from the outside. By the time morning arrived, she was exhausted.

PART FOUR

Bronte woke with an aching head and a tired body. She needed to use the bathroom again. She found that her body moved with a little more ease than it had the night before. She pulled on the sweatpants and climbed out of the comfortable bed. She slowly made her way into the living room to find Jobeth sitting up, watching the morning news. "I see that they're still looking for my body," she said sarcastically. Jobeth jumped up and started to approach her. Bronte held up her hand. "I'm fine. I feel a lot better. I just need to use the washroom again," she explained as Jobeth nodded. Bronte didn't miss the look of concern written across Jobeth's tired features.

Once Bronte emerged from the bathroom, she found the living room empty. As she stepped deeper into the room, she could see Jobeth in the kitchen. Unable to walk any further, she sat down on the sofa. Bronte watched in disbelief as a news story portrayed how she and her husband's canoe trip had turned tragic. She turned slightly to see Jobeth entering the room carrying a tray. "Here you go," Jobeth said proudly as she placed the tray down on the coffee table.

"It's just some oatmeal and tea," Jobeth explained. "You need something in your stomach. Then I'll give you some Advil; it might help with the pain. Then I need to clean your wounds."

"I must say, the service here is excellent," Bronte teased.

"You should see how I treat guests who actually walk in the front door," Jobeth teased with a wink.

"How did you get me inside?" Bronte asked before sipping her tea.

"Pure adrenaline," Jobeth answered. "You're not as light as you look." Bronte laughed. "You really scared me last night," Jobeth continued as she stood and retreated back into the kitchen.

"I can imagine," Bronte called out. She looked out the window as she took a spoonful of oatmeal. It was still raining. Although she felt safe at the cabin, she felt guilty about intruding on Jobeth's privacy. "I'm sorry for all of this," Bronte apologized as Jobeth took a seat next to her.

"Don't be," Jobeth said sincerely as she sipped her cup of coffee. "Just yesterday I was thinking about how boring this vacation was."

Bronte honestly didn't know how to respond to Jobeth's unwavering generosity. She turned her attention back to the television. "So they aren't looking for me," she said absently.

"The weather's too bad," Jobeth offered. "They seem to be hopeful. Except for . . ."

"My husband," Bronte finished for her, sensing her uneasiness. Jobeth simply nodded in response. "He's probably pretty confident that the whack from the canoe paddle finished me off."

"Why?" Jobeth inquired in a careful tone. "I mean, if he was unhappy why not just divorce you?"

"I have no idea," Bronte choked out. "I asked for a divorce a couple of years ago. Things just weren't working between us. But he swore that we could make it work."

"Money maybe?" Jobeth suggested. "You're not some kind of heiress, are you?"

"No." Bronte laughed. "I work for an investment firm and Ralph is an accountant. We do all right. It's just our marriage that sucks. The irony is that, as we were paddling across the lake, I was thinking that I was going to leave him when we got home."

"Was he abusive?" Jobeth inquired carefully.

"Never," Bronte responded honestly. "Well, except for the lying and cheating. Honestly, I didn't blame him for that; I wasn't happy either. Until he pushed me out of the canoe, I would have sworn that Ralph wasn't that bad of a guy. I just got married too young."

"We need to get you to the police," Jobeth said solemnly.

"I know," Bronte agreed sadly.

They sat in silence as Bronte ate her breakfast. "Did you get any sleep last night?" Bronte finally asked after sneaking glances at her new friend.

"Uhm . . ." Jobeth hedged.

"That would be a no?" Bronte sighed heavily. "I couldn't help noticing that there's only one bedroom. I'll take the sofa today so you can rest."

"I don't think so," Jobeth argued.

"Then we can bunk together," Bronte insisted.

"Huh?" Jobeth choked on her coffee.

"Are you all right?" Bronte asked as she put down her bowl. She reached out to Jobeth who was coughing furiously.

"Fine," Jobeth choked out.

Bronte couldn't help noticing that Jobeth was blushing as she quickly cleared away the dishes. 'I wonder what that was all about?' she asked herself. Jobeth seemed more composed when she returned. Bronte relaxed as Jobeth tended to her wounds. "How did this happen?" Jobeth asked as she cleaned the blonde's hands.

"I couldn't walk anymore," Bronte explained, distancing herself from the reality of her words. "I knew I had to get away so I crawled until I saw your light."

"I'm thankful that I decided to finally take a vacation," Jobeth said thoughtfully as she blew a cool breath across the antiseptic she had just applied to Bronte's palms. The gentle breath pulsated throughout Bronte's body as her heart began to race. Now it was Bronte's turn to blush and she was completely clueless as to why.

PART FIVE

"Enough about me," Bronte said with a slight tremble. Jobeth noticed the smaller woman was blushing. 'I wonder what that is all about?' her mind questioned. "Tell me about yourself," Bronte said softly as Jobeth placed a fresh bandage on the blonde's hand.

"Not much to tell." Jobeth shrugged.

"Why do I doubt that?" Bronte teased. "Come on, tell me what you do with your time when you're not saving damsels in distress."

"I'm a travel agent," Jobeth responded simply.

"So you travel a lot?" Bronte asked, encouraging her to continue.

"Not so much since I opened my own place," Jobeth grumbled. "I've been too busy building up my business. This is the first vacation I've had in years. I was getting a little too stressed. My staff more or less forced me to take some time off."

"Good for them," Bronte said with a shy smile. "They must care about you a great deal."

"I think they were just afraid that I was going to finally snap," Jobeth teased. "But I haven't had anytime to just relax and I love it up here."

"The cabin is very nice," Bronte added.

"It was my Aunt Helen's," Jobeth said softly, the pain of losing her favorite relative tugging at her heart. "She passed away seven months ago. And she left this to me."

"She must have loved you very much," Bronte said tenderly.

Jobeth felt Bronte's thumb gently caressing the back of her hand. 'I wonder if she knows what she's doing or what it's doing to me.' She gently moved her hand out of Bronte's reach. The blonde blinked in surprise as she stared down at her hand in confusion. 'Nope, she had no idea she was touching me,' Jobeth confirmed as she carefully removed the bandage from Bronte's head.

She winced when she saw the nasty bruise; it didn't look any better in the light of day. "I need to get you to a doctor," Jobeth said as she began to clean the skin. Bronte flinched as she touched her.

"That bad?" Bronte asked as she continued to shy away from Jobeth's touch.

"That's the problem," Jobeth confessed. "I don't know. If you want to fly back and forth to Japan, I'd know what to do. I mean your eyes seem to be focused, and I'm guess that's a good sign." She forgot what she was about to say as she became lost in the brilliant emerald pools. Jobeth just sat there looking deeply into Bronte's eyes, unable to speak or move. A clap of thunder snapped her back to reality and she replaced the bandage on Bronte's head as gently as she could manage. "Maybe we should put some ice on it," she muttered quickly.

"No more cold," Bronte said in a frightened tone. "I don't ever want to be cold again."

"Okay," Jobeth conceded, still amazed by what this tiny woman had just survived the day before. She cleaned up the bandages. "I'm going to take a quick shower," she explained. "I'll leave the door open in case you need anything."

"You are an amazing person, doing all of this for a total stranger," Bronte said sincerely.

"I'm just glad that I was here," Jobeth reassured her.

PART SIX

Bronte watched the taller woman as she picked up the bandages and walked into the bedroom. She was mesmerized by the sway of Jobeth's hips as she walked away. She watched the tall brunette gather her things before entering the bathroom. Bronte was breathing heavily and her palms were sweating. "What is wrong with me?" she asked herself. "This couldn't be happening again. I'm just reacting to her kindness," she said, encouraging herself. 'You keep telling yourself that, Bronte. Isn't that how you ended up with Ralph in the first place?'

Jobeth emerged from the bathroom with her hair wrapped in a towel. Bronte drank in the sight of the woman's long legs freely exposed by her boxer shorts. As her gaze drifted higher, she found herself mesmerized by Jobeth's firm full breasts. 'Uh oh,' Bronte thought as she swallowed hard. "How are you feeling? Is the oatmeal settling down okay?" Jobeth asked with concern as she took a spot on the sofa and unwrapped the towel, allowing her damp raven locks to cascade down onto her shoulders.

"I'm okay," Bronte said softly as she watched her new friend drying her hair. "So finish telling me about yourself."

"Not much more to say." Jobeth shrugged. She stood with the towel draped around her arm and bent her head down. With one sweeping motion Jobeth flipped her hair up. Bronte gasped; there was something about the sight that sent chills up and down her spine.

"I swear, one of these days I'm going to cut it all off," Jobeth grumbled as she padded back towards the bathroom.

"Don't you dare," Bronte whispered softly as she tried to steady her breathing.

"What was that?" Jobeth asked as she turned back towards the very embarrassed blonde.

"I . . . err . . . uhm . . . ," Bronte stammered. "I said I think your hair is beautiful," she confessed shyly.

"Thank you," Jobeth responded in a surprised tone before heading back towards the bathroom.

Bronte rolled her eyes, disgusted by her actions. "Real smooth, Bronte," she mumbled as she slapped her forehead. "Ouch," she yelped. "Oh, that was bright. Smack yourself in the forehead when you probably have a concussion."

As Bronte listened to the sounds of the blow dryer and the storm outside, she pulled down the quilt that was draped over the back of the sofa and wrapped it around her trembling body. She still couldn't fight off the chill. Memories of the day before haunted her. She settled down, determined to take advantage of Jobeth's absence to collect her thoughts.

Just yesterday her only problem was telling her husband that their marriage was over. "Telling him is going to be easier since the bastard tried to kill me," Bronte reasoned. "I wonder if Jobeth can book a trip for me to Las Vegas? They still do quickie divorces, I think."

"Having a nice chat?" Jobeth smirked as she returned from the bathroom.

Bronte had been too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice that the blow dryer had stopped. "Sorry, just wondering if I can still get a quickie divorce in Las Vegas," Bronte said aloud.

"Or you could drag it out and make his life a living hell," Jobeth suggested, sitting down next to Bronte. She pulled the blonde's feet up onto her lap and began to massage them.

"I want to be free from him as soon as possible." Bronte sighed, relaxing into Jobeth's touch. "When I first ended up in the water, I actually thought he was trying to help me. Then he started pulling my life vest off." She shivered at the memory.

"You're safe now," Jobeth reassured her once again as her hands continued to rub her tired feet. "Damn, if I only had a four-wheel drive we could get you to the cops now."

"I'm sorry for intruding on your vacation," Bronte said sadly.

"Hey, none of that," Jobeth chastised her. "Normally I just work until I force myself to go home to an empty apartment and sleep."

"So there's no one waiting for you back home?" Bronte pried shyly. She couldn't stop herself; she wanted to know everything about this woman who had saved her.

"Not for a very long time," Jobeth confessed in a quiet tone.

"That's surprising," Bronte stated honestly.

"Why?" Jobeth chuckled lightly as her hands drifted up to Bronte's calf.

"Because you're so attractive," Bronte said before she could stop herself.

Jobeth's fingers kneaded the knots in Bronte's calf muscles. The feel of Jobeth's strong certain touch sent a jolt to her center. Bronte moaned as her lower anatomy throbbed. Jobeth's hands halted and Bronte's heart sank. "Thank you," Jobeth whispered shyly before resuming her massage. Bronte wanted to pull away from Jobeth's touch before she embarrassed herself any further. Yet her body seemed unable or unwilling to do so. She could feel herself trembling and this time it wasn't from the cold. It had been so long since someone who completely inflamed her long dormant desires had touched her. The ironic timing of the situation was not lost on Bronte.

She had married Ralph on the rebound when her relationship with Linda had ended in disaster. Ralph had been so sweet when they were dating and somehow she managed to convince herself that Linda had simply been a phase. The courtship had been short-lived and, despite the lack of passion, Bronte felt the first few years were wonderful. Over the years, the ennui set in and she couldn't stop herself from noticing other women. Now that her marriage was over, she found herself with a completely captivating woman - a complete stranger who had saved her life and who had asked for nothing in return. At this emotionally turbulent time in her life, lust was the last thing the blonde expected to be feeling. She couldn't give into it. She needed to accept that it was just the extreme emotions playing with her mind. Now if she could just get her libido to agree, everything would be just fine.

"I have an idea," Jobeth said suddenly as she released her hold on Bronte's legs. "How would you feel about a nice bubble bath? You could soak and relax without worrying about your bandages."

"Sounds like heaven," Bronte readily agreed.

PART SEVEN

Jobeth busied herself by preparing a light lunch. She was certain that Bronte's stomach was still upset. As she prepared the soup she listened carefully in case Bronte needed any assistance in the bathroom. 'Maybe I could wash her back?' she thought as a wicked grin emerged. "What am I doing? I just met her. And she's straight, not to mention vulnerable."

Jobeth couldn't get her mind away from how good it felt to massage the petite blonde's legs. And when Bronte had moaned, it made her tremble with desire. 'How am I going to keep my hands to myself?' She mentally groaned as her mind replayed the moan that escaped from Bronte's full lips. 'Stop this! Just be her friend. Bronte needs someone to help her right now, not hit on her,' she scolded herself. Now if she could only get her body to cooperate, life would be just fine.

Everything was prepared and she allowed the soup to simmer as she placed some napkins and utensils on the coffee table. She went back and checked on the soup before turning off the stove. She returned to the living room and stood nervously by the sofa as she peeked over at the bathroom door that was slightly ajar. "Maybe I should go check on her?" she reasoned as she walked towards the bathroom.

She paused for a moment before rapping lightly on the door. "Bronte?" she called out shyly.

"Come in," Bronte replied softly. Jobeth stepped shyly into the small bathroom. The sight that greeted her made her weak in the knees. Bronte was lounging in the big claw-footed tub with her arms hanging over the sides, her head back, and a light layer of bubbles came just barely above her cleavage.

Jobeth watched the steady rise and fall of Bronte's chest, the water ebbing just enough to allow two rose-colored nipples to peek out. The tall brunette's stomach clenched as her jaw dropped. "This is wonderful. Thank you for suggesting it." Bronte sighed happily. Jobeth was just thankful that Bronte's eyes remained closed.

"You're welcome," she managed to sputter out as she swallowed hard. "When you're ready, I made us some soup for lunch. Would you like to have yours in the bedroom or do you want to join me on the sofa? We can heckle the soaps and talk shows," she blurted out.

Jobeth grimaced, knowing that she was babbling like a complete idiot. "The sofa sounds good," Bronte said agreeably as her eyelids fluttered open. Jobeth tried to look impassive as Bronte smiled up at her. "Could you do me a favor?" the blonde inquired shyly.

"Anything," Jobeth responded in a breathy tone.

"I hate to ask but I would really like to wash my hair. The bandage . . . ," Bronte said in a timid voice as her eyes looked down.

"Not a problem," Jobeth replied confidently while her heart began to pound.

Jobeth gathered a towel and shampoo and lowered the shower massage. She tested the temperature of the water before she began rinsing Bronte's short blonde locks. With a mixture of gentle and excitement, she ran her fingers through the silky blonde hair. She turned off the water and placed a dab of shampoo in the palm of her hand. She slowly and gently cleansed Bronte's hair, her fingers creating lather and running through the blonde's soft hair. 'I know I shouldn't be enjoying this but it feels so good,' she thought as she listened to Bronte's soft murmuring.

Reluctantly Jobeth rinsed Bronte's hair; her heart sank as the last of the shampoo ran down the blonde's firm body. "All done," Jobeth said as she gently dried the smaller woman's hair.

"Thank you." Bronte sighed.

"There's a bath towel over there and some clean clothes," Jobeth whispered into Bronte's ear. She watched as the blonde blushed slightly and her skin broke out in a rash of goose bumps. She was so close. Jobeth knew all she had to do was lean just a little closer and she could kiss the nape of the blonde's neck.

Jobeth pulled away before her body had a chance to override her sense of reason. She leaned on her heels for a moment to collect her strength. "I'll see you in a few moments," she said heavily as she forced herself to stand and leave the bathroom.

Lunch went well despite Jobeth's inability to refrain from glancing at her unexpected houseguest. The rain stopped as they watched an endless stream of television, each adding their own playful comments. Jobeth felt strangely at ease with her new companion. She tensed when the afternoon news came on and Bronte's disappearance was the lead story.

"Oh look, they haven't found me yet," Bronte teased. Jobeth laughed at the comment. "I know I shouldn't be joking but it's a little surreal to watch the news with your own death is the top story."

"Hopefully the roads will be cleared tomorrow and you can get on with your life," Jobeth offered sympathetically.

"Hmm." Bronte grimaced. "I'll be starting all over again. I need to find a new place to live, sell the house, and file for divorce. All this is after I have my husband's sorry ass tossed in jail."

"It will be all right," Jobeth reassured her as she captured the smaller hand in her own. She gave it a gentle squeeze. Bronte squeezed Jobeth's hand in return. Jobeth's heart beat wildly as she was captured once again by Bronte's brilliant green eyes. Their hands tightened as they stared deeply into one another's eyes.

'Does she feel it too?' Jobeth wondered as she leaned slightly closer to Bronte. As Jobeth wondered what it would be like to kiss the blonde, Bronte released her hand and turned suddenly towards the television. "Oh look, it's my husband." Bronte snorted in disgust.

As they watched Ralph's pitiful display, Jobeth's hatred of the man grew with each passing moment. "Can I beat him up?" Jobeth finally blurted out. Bronte snorted with laughter. "Please?" she pleaded. "I just want to wipe that smug expression of the arrogant son of a bitch's face."

"What? You think I'd stop you?" Bronte laughed. "Look at him. He's just eating up all this attention," she added with a snarl. "I just wish I knew why he did it. It's painfully obvious that this sudden romantic vacation was just an excuse to toss me in the lake. But other than my life insurance, I'm not worth the effort."

"Don't ever say that," Jobeth said angrily. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just that what he did makes me so damn angry," Jobeth explained.

"Still my hero," Bronte said with pride. "Thank you."

"You need to stop that," Jobeth chastised her playfully. "You don't need to thank me or apologize."

Bronte smiled as Jobeth leaned back onto the sofa; they settled into a comfortable silence. They continued to watch television as darkness fell. Jobeth watched Bronte as she drifted off to sleep. She lied to herself that she was just letting the injured woman rest. In her heart she knew that she just wanted to look at the woman without interruption. Tomorrow the roads would be clear and Bronte would walk out of her life forever. Finally Jobeth awoke Bronte and helped her into the bedroom. She trembled as she covered the blonde's weary body before changing into a nightshirt and climbing in next to the sleeping blonde.

PART EIGHT

Bronte stirred slightly as the sensual dream floated through her mind. Images of Jobeth's body lying beneath her, responding to her touch, filled her unconscious mind. She pressed herself closer to the warmth she felt beneath her as the wetness pooled between her legs. She moaned as she felt warm skin beneath her fingers. She sighed as she felt her way up Jobeth's body and cupped her firm full breasts. With the palms of her hands she glided up further, feeling nipples harden from her touch. She groaned as a strong thigh pressed against her center. "Bronte?" a confused voice whispered in her ear.

It was Jobeth's confusion that broke through the clouds. Bronte's eyes snapped open as her body jumped up. "Oh no," she gasped as she discovered that she was lying on top of Jobeth, straddling the brunette's thigh while her hands played with her breasts. "This is so bad," she groaned as she snatched her hands away, leaving Jobeth's shirt up around her neck.

"Hey," Jobeth protested. "I'm rather fond of them," she teased as she pulled her nightshirt back down.

Bronte bolted off the bed, her injured body protesting the sudden movement. "I'm so sorry," she blurted out quickly.

"I wasn't complaining," Jobeth continued to tease her. "Relax, you were asleep and didn't know what you were doing."

"Jobeth, I can't apologize enough," Bronte continued to babble. "First you save my life. Pull me in out of the rain, tend to my injuries, feed me, bathe me, and now I'm using your body a big pillow among other things."

"At least you seem to be moving around better." Jobeth chuckled as she climbed out of bed.

"Yeah well, it's amazing what a sudden panic will do for you." Bronte groaned in embarrassment. Jobeth continued to laugh. "What's so funny?" Bronte demanded.

"You're just seem so flustered." Jobeth chuckled. "You didn't know what you were doing. Hell, I didn't know what you were doing until . . . ," Jobeth paused in mid-sentence as she blushed.

"Do I want to know what I did?" Bronte groaned as she buried her face in her hands.

"You're adorable when you're flustered." Jobeth laughed as she walked past Bronte. "I'm going to check the weather and the news to see if the roads are clear," Jobeth called out as she walked into the living room.

"You are enjoying this way too much," Bronte shouted out. Then it hit her. Jobeth wasn't bothered in the slightest by what she had done. "Wait a minute," Bronte said with a sudden sense of merriment.

Bronte blazed a determined path into the living room. "The rain stopped and the roads should be clear enough for us to get into town," Jobeth explained from the kitchen. "I'm going to put some coffee on."

"Jobeth?" Bronte called out as she followed her into the kitchen. "Were you upset by what I did?" the blonde asked.

"No." Jobeth shrugged as she turned to collect the coffee pot. "You don't have anything to be worried about; you were asleep," she explained calmly as she filled the glass carafe with water.

"And you're not bothered?" Bronte asked again.

"No,"Jobeth reassured her once again as she poured the water into the coffee maker.

"And why is that?" Bronte said, pressing on. She glared at Jobeth suspiciously while Jobeth counted the number of scoops she was pouring into the coffee maker.

Bronte watched with some degree of amusement as Jobeth's hands trembled slightly . "Is it a bad time to tell you that I'm a lesbian?" Jobeth said as her voice squeaked slightly.

"Not at all," Bronte responded with a light chuckle.

"I should have told you sooner," Jobeth explained. "I hope it doesn't make you uncomfortable since you're straight, and with what happened this morning . . ."

"No." Bronte laughed again as she thought that Jobeth also looked adorable when she was flustered.

"Okay, now that that's over with . . . ," Jobeth said as she blew out a heavy breath, ". . . I'll finish making the coffee and something for us to eat. I washed and dried the clothes I found you in. They're in the laundry room which is right behind that door." She pointed to a small door off the kitchen.

"Thank you," Bronte responded with a sincere smile as she opened the door and searched for the light switch. She peeked back into the kitchen, unable to resist adding more fuel to the fire. "Oh, and Jobeth, I'm not."

"You're not what?" Jobeth questioned her in a dry tone as she turned on the coffee maker.

"Straight," Bronte said flatly before ducking into the laundry room.

PART NINE

"Huh?" It was all that Jobeth could say as her mouth hung open. 'What the hell just happened?' she wondered as Bronte stepped back into the kitchen. The blonde approached her with a cocky smirk and placed two fingers gently under her jaw to tenderly close her mouth.

"Problem?" Bronte said in a far too joyful tone.

"You're married," Jobeth blurted out.

"Don't remind me," Bronte responded grimly.

"Sorry, but you're married," Jobeth repeated. "To a guy," she added in confusion.

"Who I started to see after my one and only relationship before that ended badly," Bronte explained sadly. "Linda was almost as trustworthy as Ralph."

"Maybe she could write to him in prison?" Jobeth suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.

Jobeth was relieved when Bronte smiled; they stood there staring at one another. Jobeth's mind still cautioned her that none of this really meant anything. "This is so bizarre," she finally said.

"Tell me about it." Bronte laughed. "I'll get dressed. I'm not really up for breakfast."

"I'll take a shower while you're getting changed," Jobeth offered.

Later they arrived in town; neither of them had spoken a word since their unusual exchange in the kitchen. Jobeth could see the tension in Bronte's body as she pulled up in front of the police station. She gently wrapped the blonde's hand in her own. "It will be all right. I'll be with you every step of the way," Jobeth informed her firmly. Bronte squeezed her hand in response as the smaller woman looked up at her with a fearful expression.

Jobeth led Bronte into the small police station, holding her hand tightly. It was a flurry of activity. Bronte tightened her grip on Jobeth's hand as they both watched the now familiar figure of Ralph Emery stand, his face turning ashen.

"Jo?" a voice said beside her.

"Hey Bruce," she responded as she stepped slightly ahead of Bronte as her husband started to approach. "This is Mrs. Emery," she explained quickly. "You might want to talk to her away from her husband."

"Bronte," Ralph called out as he neared them.

All activity stopped as Jobeth pushed Bronte behind her. "Stay away from her," Jobeth hissed before he could get near them.

"That answers that." Bruce sighed heavily. "Mr. Emery, have a seat. Johnson, keep him company."

"I want to see my wife," Ralph blurted out, trying his best to look concerned.

"I insist," Bruce stated firmly.

Jobeth felt a small degree of satisfaction as she watched the overgrown bully being led away by one of the officers. "Bronte, this is Sheriff Corners," she explained to the frightened woman.

"Mrs. Emery, why don't we go into my office?" Bruce suggested.

"Can Jobeth come with us?" Bronte asked quietly as she held Jobeth's hand even tighter.

"Sheriff?" Jobeth asked as she batted her baby blue eyes at him.

Bruce nodded in agreement before leading them into his office. They sat together on the leather sofa, their hands still linked. "Do you need coffee or anything?" Bruce inquired gently.

"No," Bronte answered. "I just want to get this over with."

"Whenever you're ready," he offered in gentle voice as he took a seat across from them.

Jobeth listened in horror for the better part of an hour as Bronte recounted every detail of her ordeal. Bruce listened carefully as Jobeth's stomach turned. "That's where I come in," Jobeth explained as Bronte finished her story. "I found her on my porch."

"Hold on for a moment, Jo," Bruce said softly, stopping her.

Jobeth watched as the tall man moved over to his desk and pressed the intercom. "Comstock, do me a favor. Read Mr. Emery his rights and then toss his sorry ass in a cell. I need a stenographer and a doctor."

"Right away, Sheriff," a voice responded from the other end.

"Mrs. Emery, I need you to repeat your statement in it's entirety for a stenographer. And you'll need to give a complete statement as well, Jo. But first, did you want to see the doctor?"

"I'm fine," Bronte reassured him as she leaned closer to Jobeth.

"You already knew, didn't you?" Jobeth asked thoughtfully.

"I had a feeling and Mr. Emery was a little over the top with his performance," Bruce explained. "Plus who says 'Hey, Honey. There's a storm coming. Why don't we go for a canoe ride?' Some of your friends back in the city called us right away."

"I should've known by the way he acted all lovey dovey every time someone at the lodge was within earshot," Bronte said bitterly. "Trust me; that's not the man I married."

PART TEN

Bronte felt a strange sense of relief and dismay when they had finished with everything. It was almost nightfall before the doctor and the police released her. The only question left was where to go. The police needed to search their belongings including the car. As the sheriff offered her a ride back to the house she never wanted to see again, Jobeth stepped in.

"Why don't you come back to the cabin with me?" Jobeth asked. "I'm sure Bruce is going to need to talk to you some more. While you were with the doctor, I had the phone turned on. It's late and the press are probably camped out on your front lawn."

"She's right," the Sheriff added quickly. "The press don't know about Jo yet so you could just relax and try to get your bearings."

"Yes," Bronte agreed readily, knowing that she'd been fearing the moment when she would be forced to say goodbye to Jobeth.

"Good." The sheriff snorted. "Jo, why don't you two go out back and Simpson here will sneak you up to the cabin. There's a flock of reporters out front."

"Thanks, Bruce," Jobeth said. "Why didn't we see any when we came in?"

"They were up at the lake . . . ," he explained, stopping his explanation suddenly. Bronte's stomach turned in disgust.

"The weather's cleared; you were about to drag it," she said sadly. She knew by the way the tall man wouldn't meet her gaze that she was right. "Take me home," she said as she buried her face in Jobeth's shoulder. She felt Jobeth's arms wrap around her.

"We'll be at the cabin," Jobeth explained before leading her out the backdoor to the waiting police cruiser.

The ride back to the cabin was a quiet one. Jobeth held her as her mind and body ached. They entered the cabin and she stood just inside the door, feeling lost. Jobeth locked the door and checked all of the windows before helping Bronte off with her coat. Then Jobeth wrapped her arms around her. Bronte clung tightly to the taller woman. She needed to feel the warmth of her body pressing against her.

Bronte looked up to find the most amazing azure eyes looking down at her. Her breathing caught as she reached up and ran her fingers through Jobeth's long silky tresses. She could feel the taller woman pull her closer. She responded by leaning up as she drew Jobeth's face down. As their lips met, she lost herself in the warmth. She moaned as Jobeth's tongue pressed against her lips, begging for entrance.

She parted her lips and allowed Jobeth to enter her mouth for a sweet gentle exploration. She needed to be held, to be made love to after the brutal betrayal she had just endured. As her hands roamed over the brunette's tall firm body, she knew that she needed something else. She needed Jobeth. As Jobeth's fingers caressed her face, Bronte was thankful that the doctor had removed her bandages. She wanted nothing to separate them.

Their tongues danced together as Bronte's body pulsated with desire. Her her wetness grew as Jobeth's hands cupped her backside. As she continued to deeply kiss the taller woman, her hands busied themselves by undoing the buttons on Jobeth's shirt. Both women were gasping for air as the kiss ended. Bronte began to kiss and taste her way down Jobeth's neck. The brunette groaned as her head fell back, offering more of her skin for exploration.

"I need you," Bronte pleaded against Jobeth's skin. Her excitement grew as she felt the rapid beating of her lover's pulse beneath her lips. "Make love to me," she continued as she kissed the valley between Jobeth's breasts.

"Yes," Jobeth purred in response. Bronte pulled down the lacy material of Jobeth's bra with her teeth. Her lover's hands were roaming delightfully across her body as she circled her nipple with her tongue. "Bronte," Jobeth gasped as the blonde captured her nipple in her mouth. Bronte suckled the rose-colored bud greedily. She could feel Jobeth pressing her hips into her body as she repeated her name in a hungry tone. She continued to tease Jobeth's nipple with her tongue and her teeth as her hand slid between the taller woman's thighs. With the palm of her hand, she made slow torturous circles, pressing the material of Jobeth's jeans into her center.

She looked up in a haze of needy desire as she reached for the button of Jobeth's faded jeans. Her lover captured her hands and halted her movements. Bronte looked up in confusion as her heart and lower anatomy beat in an urgent need. Jobeth reclaimed her lips, kissing her so deeply that Bronte's head was spinning. "You are alive," Jobeth whispered deeply after releasing her from the fiery kiss. "Let me take you to bed and show you that you are alive and wanted."

Bronte almost cried from the heartfelt sincerity of the words. Jobeth held her hand gently as she began to walk backwards to the bedroom. "You're alive," Jobeth repeated. "You're beautiful and you're needed and very much wanted. I desire you more than I can say."

"Still my hero," Bronte choked out as they stepped into the bedroom.

"No, not a hero." Jobeth said softly as she began to kiss Bronte's neck and unbutton her shirt. "Just a woman who wants to explore every inch of your incredibly beautiful body." Bronte couldn't speak as she melted into Jobeth's touch. The brunette undressed her slowly, kissing and tasting her skin along the way. As Bronte's naked body was lowered onto the comfortable bed, she pulled her lover down along with her.

The women found themselves locked in another fiery kiss. As their tongues dueled for control, Bronte rolled her lover onto her back and began to pull Jobeth's clothing off. She could feel Jobeth's hands traveling down her body, causing her thighs to quiver with excitement. As she straddled her lover she somehow managed to remove Jobeth's blouse and bra. Her body arched as Jobeth's fingers dipped into her wetness.

She teased Jobeth's nipples with her fingers, rolling them insistently as her lover's fingers explored her slick folds. Bronte's hips swayed against her lover's body. "Bronte," Jobeth whispered. "I need to feel you, to taste you." Jobeth moaned in need.

"Naked," Bronte panted as Jobeth's talented fingers teased her throbbing clit. "I need you naked," Bronte pleaded before lowering her head and tasting the swell of Jobeth's breasts. She felt Jobeth's fingers press against the opening of her center as she suckled her breasts. Bronte's hips thrust, eager to feel Jobeth's touch as the blonde continued tease the brunette's nipples.

"Jo!" she called out in ecstasy as her lover entered her. Bronte's body arched in response as Jobeth's fingers slid deeper inside of her. She was kneeling above her lover as her hips ground into Jobeth's touch. With one hand Jobeth plunged in and out of her wetness, her thumb rubbing gently against her swollen clit while the other hand teased one of Bronte's nipples.

Bronte struggled to keep her body from exploding as Jobeth took her deeper. The brunette pulled her closer and their breasts pressed together as Jobeth continued pleasure her. She reclaimed Jobeth's lips as her lover's hand moved in a frantic rhythm with her hips. Her thighs trembled as her head fell back. The room spun; she clung tightly to Jobeth as she exploded in ecstasy.

She continued to cling to her lover's body as the aftershocks trickled through her body. "Jo," she squeaked out, "please take your clothes off." Her lover chuckled as her fingers left the warmth of Bronte's center. Bronte rolled over on her back, wishing she had the energy to assist the dark woman undress. She nestled herself against the pillows as her lover licked her passion from her fingers.

Bronte licked her lips in anticipation as she watched Jobeth's tongue clean away each glistening drop. Jobeth rose from the bed and slowly undressed, her crystal blue eyes never leaving Bronte's body. The blonde smiled knowingly as her hand drifted down and she slowly began to slide a single finger along her own slick folds. "Starting without me?" Jobeth asked in a husky tone as she continued to remove her clothing. Bronte simply released a deep sensual purr in response.

Bronte's breathing stopped as her lover stood naked before her. Jobeth climbed back onto the bed and lay beside Bronte. The blonde released a breath finally as Jobeth slowly began to run her fingers down the blonde's arm. Bronte's arm shivered from Jobeth's touch as she raised her finger to her lover's mouth, offering up her nectar to Jobeth's lips.

Bronte's body shook as Jobeth suckled the finger into the warmth of her mouth. Jobeth's tongue swirled around, capturing her essence fully. Bronte whimpered as Jobeth's teeth lightly grazed across the tip of her finger. "You are so beautiful," Bronte said as she ran the tips of her fingers up and down Jobeth's body slowly. She smiled when her lover turned away shyly.

They shifted so they were lying side by side, taking it slowly as their fingertips gently explored the other's body. Shivers and sensual sounds greeted their touch as they explored and discovered one another. Bronte kissed her lover slowly, savoring the taste of Jobeth's mouth. She released a sigh that was a sweet mixture of pleasure and contentment.

With unspoken understanding Bronte began to kiss her way down Jobeth's body. She went slowly as she tasted and teased every inch of her lover. She could feel Jobeth kiss her in the same fashion as she was now in a position where they could offer each other their passion. She inhaled the musky scent that was filling her senses as her lover began to kiss the inside of her thighs.

Bronte groaned as she began to kiss the inside of Jobeth's quivering thighs. Each of them slowly tasted the sweet nectar that they found on the other's skin. Bronte parted her lover's nether lips and dipped her tongue into her passion. She moaned into her lover's desire as she drank in her wetness. Bronte felt her lover's mouth feasting upon her as she suckled Jobeth's clit in her mouth. Her desire only grew as she entered the warmth of Jobeth's center. Soon their passion ignited as they gave and received pleasure, each clinging to the other.

Soon the rhythm grew wild with need as they thrust against each other. Bronte fought a battle to stay in control; she wanted to feel Jobeth explode against her. Their cries of ecstasy were muffled as they buried themselves deeper into each other. Bronte could feel her lover's body tightening around her own as her body reacted with the same need.

She felt her lover climax as she fell over the edge. Bronte's fingers continued to plunge in and out of Jobeth's center as she screamed into her wetness. Sated and spent, they finally collapsed against each other. Bronte slowly climbed back up her lover's body, kissing her trembling form along the way. Jobeth brushed Bronte's damp golden locks off her forehead before pulling her in for another kiss.

Bronte's desire was reignited as she tasted herself on her lover's lips. She wrapped herself up in her lover's touch as their overheated bodies melted together. Bronte could feel Jobeth's clit meeting her own in the same urgent rhythm. Once again Bronte was clinging to her lover as their bodies thrust together. Soon they were both calling out the other's name.

"You are amazing," Bronte panted as she rested her head against Jobeth's heaving chest. She found the rapid beating of her lover's heart comforting.

"Heck, this how I treat all of my houseguests," Jobeth murmured.

"And how many have there been?" Bronte teased as she licked an errant drop of sweat from Jobeth's cleavage.

"Well, counting you . . . ," Jobeth said thoughtfully, ". . . that makes it one. Well, here at the cabin."

"Somehow I didn't think you were a virgin." Bronte laughed as Jobeth chuckled. "So you're just not into sleepovers?" she inquired carefully.

"I am now," Jobeth said softly as she pulled Bronte closer to her.

Throughout the night and well past the morning, Jobeth kept her promise; she explored and loved every inch of the blonde's body. They were bundled up under the covers and Bronte was resting her head on Jobeth's chest, content to simply listen to the beating of her lover's heart. "I'm not looking forward to leaving here," Bronte confessed quietly.

"So we won't," Jobeth said as she rubbed Bronte's back. "Not yet anyway. And when we do, we'll do it together. Whatever happens, we'll face it together and along the way we can get to know each other."

"Still my hero," Bronte said with a smile.

"No." Jobeth laughed as Bronte snuggled closer. "Because you're the one who needs to explain to my staff what happened to the cranky old woman that they used to work for."

"That's fair." Bronte sighed happily as she said a silent prayer that this was only the beginning for them.

THE END

STRIKE A POSE

July 2001

Disclaimers (Better known as sex/violence & road trips): This story contains absolutely no violence or road trips. Nope, not a one. In fact since this is a PWP so these two characters probably won't get out of bed. If for some reason it is illegal for you to read this story, get out of here. Go on . . . leave. Now if the thought of two consenting adult women making love is in some way offensive to you, I won't debate the issue with you. I'll simply suggest that you read something more to your liking.

A big thanks to my beta reader Joanne.

As Always For Heather

PART ONE

Rebecca looked thoughtfully out the window of her south-end apartment. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a golden haze over the city. She sighed deeply as she mentally kicked herself for watching for a woman who wasn't going to appear. "She'll be here," she grumbled. "And even if she doesn't show up, what do I care?" She did care and she hated herself for it.

Still she watched the busy street below and waited for some sign of the woman who had developed a strange hold over her. "Ugh!" she screamed in frustration. "What am I doing? She's not even late yet."

"I have to be the biggest weenie on the planet," she admonished herself as she brushed her short golden locks off her furrowed brow. She then wiped now sweaty palms on her khaki shorts. She couldn't help herself. Tess was coming.

Tess, the model she had hired to sit for her, came every Thursday at 6:30. Rebecca had hired the tall raven-haired beauty against her better judgment. Tess wasn't what she'd been looking for. But she took one look into those amazing blue eyes and all her common sense went right out the window. She could always hire a different model later. She had to capture this statuesque beauty on canvas.

Unfortunately for Rebecca it wasn't all she wanted. She didn't understand what was wrong with her. Over the years she had painted dozens of beautiful women and her libido never interfered before. There was something about Tess that got to her. Of course she probably shouldn't have asked Tess to pose in the nude. But nudes were her specialty. Rebecca could just kick herself for her lack of control. This had never happened to her before. There was just something about Tess.

Tess had an amazing body and normally that wouldn't be a problem for Rebecca. Something about Tess got under her skin. After their sessions together, Rebecca couldn't wait for the model to leave so she could ease her tension. As she touched herself she pictured what it would be like to touch the raven-haired woman.

A knock on her apartment door brought the young blonde out of her musings. Glancing quickly at her watch she found that it was almost 6:30. Her heart began to race as she jumped down from her perch. She started to race towards the door stopped herself so she could steady her breathing. She centered herself and tried to appear normal. Feeling somewhat confident and a little less like a total weenie, she opened the door.

Rebecca felt her heart skip a beat as she was greeted by the vision standing in her doorway. Mustering all her inner strength she smiled up at the woman who stood a good half-foot taller than her. "Hey there," she uttered quickly, hoping that she sound nonchalant.

"Hi, Rebecca." Tess greeted her with a brilliant smile as she stepped into Rebecca's small apartment.

"Everything's set up," Rebecca offered as she closed the front door.

Tess nodded as she stepped into the area that Rebecca used as her studio. While she stepped behind the screen to disrobe, Rebecca felt her mouth go dry as she ran a shaky hand through her platinum blonde locks. Feeling a need to redirect her attention, Rebecca went over to her easel and nervously checked her brushes and paints.

Rebecca finally managed to steady herself just as Tess stepped out clad only in a short red silk robe. "Where do you want me?" Tess asked in her deep sensual voice.

Rebecca chuckled slightly to herself as she thought, 'Oh, if you only knew.'

"Over there, same as last time," Rebecca instructed her, smiling at her inner thoughts.

"You have a beautiful smile," Tess commented unexpectedly as she disrobed and lounged on the brass bed.

Rebecca felt the blush creeping across her features. She cleared her throat as she watched the object of her affection toss her long black hair back. "Thank you," Rebecca finally managed to say. Shaking her head slightly she cleared the erotic thoughts from her mind. The artist took over as she drank in the view before her.

"You can relax for a little while. The sun's still up," Rebecca explained as she mentally made notes on the scene before her. She had chosen to have Tess pose on her bed underneath the old floor to ceiling window that she convinced her landlord to keep in. She lifted the cloth covering the painting and looked at it. She sighed as she realized that it was almost complete. There was just something missing. She couldn't quite place it . . . but there was definitely something missing.

PART TWO

Rebecca had spent most of the past couple of hours filling in the small details. The work was almost complete except for one element that eluded her. Working on the minor details allowed her thoughts to wander. The moonlight cascading down highlighted Tess' jet-black hair and chiseled features and caused Rebecca's heart to race as she felt her stomach tightening.

"You can relax for a moment," Rebecca said absently. Tess flashed a bright smile at her as she stretched out, loosing her muscles. Rebecca's green eyes widened at the sight. As she watched the model raised her arms above her head, giving Rebecca a view of the other woman's perfect breasts. 'If I wasn't already gay, I would certainly convert after seeing this,'she thought as she quickly averted her gaze.

"How's it going?" Tess questioned her.

"Almost finished," Rebecca answered, turning her attention back to the painting.

"Oh," Tess responded with a slight grimace.

"What is it?" Rebecca asked in an effort to make conversation.

"I'll miss sitting for you, that's all," Tess answered with a hint of sadness.

"I'll be happy to recommend you to some other artists," Rebecca replied, knowing that she too was regretting the eventuality. Unfortunately it would probably be tonight.

"That's not what I meant," Tess muttered softly.

Rebecca looked up quickly to see Tess staring out of the window. She could see the model's reflection in the glass and found herself troubled by the dark look on her face. Tess lifted her head slightly, her eyes moving upward. Rebecca followed the path of those beautiful blue eyes. Across the night sky she saw what had captured Tess' attention. The shooting star blazed brightly just before fading into the twilight.

Before she could stop herself she made a wish. 'You, I wish for you, Tess.'Shaking her head quickly she kicked herself for the frivolous thought. "Fool," she admonished herself. She should have wished for something more important, like world peace.

Tess glanced over at her quickly, a troubled look clearly written on her face. "Not you," Rebecca explained quickly as she flashed a nervous smile. "Me," Rebecca tried to clarify. There was something in the way Tess was looking at her that stopped her.

Grabbing her brush she went to work quickly. "Don't move," Rebecca instructed Tess as she tried to capture the look she was receiving. Rebecca could see it in Tess' eyes, her skin burned from the other woman's gaze. The look she was receiving was pure desire. Her hands took on a mind of their own as she worked, her attention divided between the canvas and the beautiful woman sitting before her.

Unaware of how much time had passed, she kept working until she knew she had reached that moment . . . nothing more could be done. The work was finished. As she gazed upon it fully for the first time, she gasped as she realized what had always been there. The painting was erotic. There was no other way to describe it. "It's finished," she stammered as her entire being craved the object she had just created.

Finally she managed to look over at the sullen model. Tess hung her head slightly. Rebecca felt a slight chill run through her as the model refused to look up. "I guess that's it, Tess," Rebecca finally managed to say.

"What was it before?" Tess asked solemnly.

"What?"

"Before, when you called yourself a fool," Tess muttered. "What were you talking about?"

"Oh, that," Rebecca responded casually, trying not to let the other woman know what she was feeling. "It's silly."

"Tell me."

"Well, I saw a shooting star . . . ," Rebecca began slowly as she tried to choose her words carefully. She didn't want to lie but she certainly wasn't prepared to tell Tess the honest truth. " . . . I made a wish. It just kind of slipped out and it was, well, silly."

"Oh," Tess smiled slightly, finally looking up at the artist. "I did the same thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Tess chuckled slightly. "So we're done then?"

"Yes," Rebecca answered. "Would you like to see it?"

PART THREE

Rebecca's breathing ceased momentarily as she watched Tess' beautiful form rise up off the bed. Tess seemed to float across the room. Her nipples grazed Rebecca's arm as she stepped past her. Rebecca inhaled sharply as her eyes fluttered shut. "Oh my," Tess breathed out.

Slowly, her nerves on edge, Rebecca opened her eyes and turned towards the model. She hadn't stopped to think when she gave Tess the chance to look at her work. Tess was seeing for the first time how Rebecca saw her. Rebecca swallowed hard, unable to read the other woman's expression.

"It's so passionate," Tess finally said with bright smile.

Rebecca blew out a breath as she relaxed. "For a minute there I was afraid that you'd be offended." Rebecca said.

"Not at all," Tess said quietly as she turned towards Rebecca.

Before she realized what was happening, she felt two perfect lips press against her own. She didn't stop to think. Allowing her body and desire to take over, she returned the taller woman's kiss. Running her fingers through the long raven hair that she had been dreaming about, she pulled Tess in. Someone moaned but neither was certain who it was. Rebecca could feel the gentle tickling of Tess' tongue.

Without hesitation she parted her lips and granted Tess entrance. The kiss deepened as their bodies pressed together. Rebecca felt Tess' thigh pressing between her legs. As she opened herself up for the model she could feel Tess' wetness kiss her own bare thigh.

Their bodies melted together as Tess began to unbutton Rebecca's blouse. Feeling the need to breathe, Rebecca pulled away slightly as long certain fingers freed her from her bra. "This is what I wished for," Tess whispered hotly in the smaller woman's ear. Rebecca's head was spinning as she felt her clothes being removed. Her hips moved in rhythm against Tess' body.

Rebecca's body began to tremble as Tess kissed her neck. Trailing delicate nips down the artist's throat, she worked her way steadily to Rebecca's cleavage. Rebecca squeaked incoherently as her mind to tried to process the sensations and wondered just when she had become topless.

"Wait . . . ," she gasped. Her body seemed to be driving on pure lust.

Tess lifted her head quickly and gave Rebecca a fearful look. "I . . . thought . . . ," Tess stammered.

"Yes . . . ," Rebecca managed to pronounce, " . . . just . . . weak .. . . afraid . . . of . . . falling . . ."

"Was that a sentence?" Tess teased with a bright smile.

Tess gasped as she felt Rebecca's small hand cupping one of her breasts. "Bed," Rebecca said firmly. Tess bit her lip and led the artist by the hand over to the waiting bed. Tess lowered the small blonde. Rebecca could feel Tess' eyes on her as she in turn allowed herself to drink in the taller woman's beauty. Tess' fingers began to trace every inch of Rebecca's flesh.

Rebecca bit her lip as her breathing became ragged. Long black hair hung down to gently tickle her as Tess lowered her head and captured a nipple with her tongue. As Tess teased the already erect nipple, Rebecca's hips shot up to press against Tess' nakedness.

Rebecca's back arched as Tess continued to tease her by sucking her nipple while strong hands removed her shorts. Clad only in her panties, the artist ran her hands along the back of the woman lay on top of her.

Rebecca began to grind her hips against the woman with urgency. Tess lifted her head and blue eyes captured hers. "Don't you want to take this slow?" Tess asked her as fingers felt their way down Rebecca's washboard stomach. Rebecca stared at her in shock as she shook her head in a negative manner. "Good," Tess chuckled as she slipped her fingers under the waistband of Rebecca's underwear.

"Later," Rebecca suggested as she mimicked Tess' actions. As her fingers slid along silky folds, she was pleased to find that the model was just as wet as she was. Her body ached for more as Tess' thumb teased her clit. Each woman opened herself up further to the other.

They both groaned as they entered one another. Fingers gently felt the other's passion growing, building a steady rhythm as they pressed against each other tightly. They kissed deeply as their bodies rocked wildly. Rebecca could feel herself losing control as her body began to shudder. Her head thrown back, she cried out as Tess increased her pace. Unable to focus on pleasing the model, she allowed the dark-haired woman to take over.

She tried to breathe as she felt Tess kissing her way down her body, teasing every inch of her exposed flesh with her teeth and tongue. Rebecca's hips lifted off the mattress as her eyes shut. She found herself screaming out once again. Tess slowed her movements as Rebecca tried to regain her ability to speak. As she felt her breathing begin to steady, she could feel her underwear being removed.

Tess kissed her way back up the artist's firm legs. Rebecca could feel Tess opening her thighs and was too weak to protest. A warm breath blowing gently across her golden curls sent a spasm through her being. Her body arched as Tess' tongue tasted her. "You're trying to kill me," Rebecca managed to gasp out as Tess took her deeper. Her tongue licked and teased, tasting all of her passion.

Tess began to stroke her already sensitive clit. Rebecca felt her world spinning and a strange buzzing in her ears as Tess feasted upon her wetness. Her body was covered in sweat as Tess took her harder and deeper. Rebecca found herself climaxing quickly this time, her body arching as Tess continued to pleasure her. Rebecca collapsed upon the bed. Finally she pulled away from Tess. "You are trying to kill me," Rebecca choked out.

"Never," Tess answered honestly as she climbed up next to the exhausted artist and pulled her into a tender embrace. As they held one another, Rebecca felt like she was a part of Tess.

After a few moments Tess kissed the top of Rebecca's head. "So what did you wish for?" she asked quietly.

"Give me a glass of water and a moment to breathe and I'll show you," Rebecca volunteered brightly.

THE END