Four Weekends & a Photograph (WAYHAUGHT)

Chapter 8

Nicole knew she had me. The more important question was, did I have her? The slow brushing of her fingers against my skin made me forget my own name for a moment, gladly allowing my body to be played by this expert. She knew what to do, knew how to tease, and probably could tell I was moments from my first orgasm with a woman. Her leg pressed between mine, applying just enough pressure to be wonderful, hands caressing my back, as her tongue danced inside my mouth. A waft of Hawaiian Tropic took me over the edge, moaning into her mouth as my body released all tension, and tiny bubbles of joy burst in my veins.

"Wow," she said, pulling away slightly. "You okay?"

"That was...I've never," suddenly overwhelmed by the moment.

"Hey, hey, Waverly, that was amazing."

"I've never. Not like that. We'd better...you'd better go."

She looked confused as she removed her hands from my skin. "Have I done something wrong?"

"No, no, it's...you should go. Wyn will be waiting."

She placed a finger under my chin, my eyes refusing to meet hers. "I've messed up, I can see. Friends?"

She hadn't messed up. She had done everything right. Perfectly perfect. It was me. Wanting and getting are different things. Wanting Nicole to kiss me was the fantasy, having Nicole kiss me was the reality, and I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle the fact she was gorgeous, and perfect, and sensuous, and playful, and naughty, and I was me, fucking up this perfectly perfect moment.

Completely irrational, and completely selfish on my part. I'd led her on, and she did what she thought I wanted, and I did want it, and now I was even more terrified of the consequences of our actions. Not once did it occur to me to consider what came after that first kiss with Nicole, or any woman. All I wanted was for her to leave, to not look at my white triangles, to never mention what we'd just done. God, what if Wynonna found out? What if she told my parents? What if Chrissy had seen us, walked in on us, Nicole massaging my chest, lips on mine, me coming on her thigh, moaning into her mouth. How could I ever live it down? What would they think of me?

"Waverly, tell me. Was it too soon?"

My head moved from left to right, knowing I would rather lie to her than tell her I was scared, scared of what had just happened, scared to go any further. "Please go."

The look she gave me, the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal in mine. I had crushed her like a strawberry between my fingers and I couldn't stop myself. "I'm sorry. Waverly please, tell me how to make this right."

Her hand reached down to pluck my shirt from the floor, offering it to me. I snatched it from her without meaning to, hurriedly putting it on, still unable to meet her gaze. Her hand almost touched my arm. "I'll go. Please don't feel bad, it's all my fault."

"It's not. It's not. I can't."

The sound of the door closing allowed me to break down, to use the end of my shirt to wipe my eyes, a perfectly perfect moment destroyed because I retreated into myself. Chrissy bounced in half an hour later, shocked when she saw me. "Sweetie, what's wrong? Have you been crying?"

"It's nothing."

"It's something. Tell Aunty Chrissy. Is it because we're going home?"

My nod was equally false, my legs, well my one good leg, wanting me to find Nicole and explain to her how I felt, how lost I was and unsure of myself. I wanted her to know if I hadn't been ogling her ass in that wetsuit I might have seen the piece of the shipwreck sticking out. Had I not been silly about getting my girls out in front of her again, I might have remained calm in the situation, avoided ripping my calf open. Had I not given off clear vibes which she took for me being interested, I might have lived with the fantasy of being fucked by Nicole without actually committing to the actual fucking deed.