Those Ocean Eyes

Chapter 24

Thirty minutes later, Rachel's leotard is damp with perspiration, her hair's flat and sticking to her shoulders, and she has a horrible feeling that her foundation isn't doing anything to combat the shine. Debelah Morgan's 'Dance With Me' is blaring from the speakers, and now she wishes she'd stopped for coffee, because it's too early to be suffering like this without an injection of caffeine surging through her system.

"That's right, Schwimmer - you're not here to lounge around and look pretty, you're here to sweat like you're in a Richard Simmons' workout video," Cassie informs her with no small measure of merriment, and Rachel glares at her.

"I hate you," she chokes out between heaving breaths, and Cassie regards her with twinkling eyes.

"No, you don't."

Rachel smiles in spite of herself, and Cassie's stoic expression gives way to a warm grin. Rachel can see that she's trying to rein it in, but it isn't long before Cassie forgets herself again and starts absent-mindedly singing along with the music, drumming a concordant rhythm against her thighs as she starts her own set of warm-up exercises.

"When it comes to dancing, I know how to move; when it comes to passion, I know just what to do. I feel the music inside, I feel like I am alive... so pretend I was right; let's make looove."

At first, Rachel thinks Cassie's doing it on purpose, trying to drive her to distraction, but the more she watches Cassie move around the studio, the more she realises that she's just kind of... happy. The revelation makes her heart swell, and she feels like she's getting vicariously high.

"Schwimmer, they're called hip rotations for a reason. You look like a 14-year-old boy trying to rub one out. Don't thrust, grind."

And then Cassie's arms are around her waist, and she's pressing into Rachel's back, creating an airless vacuum where they're sandwiched tightly together.

"Like this," she says softly, and Rachel slumps against her, letting her head loll against Cassie's shoulder as Cassie rolls their hips in a languid circle. She lets Cassie guide her movements, until they're fluid and effortless instead of mechanical and jerky, but even when she's mastered the technique, Cassie doesn't let her go. Her hands are warm against Rachel's stomach, and Rachel trails her fingertips over them, tracing the outline of the gold ring that Cassie wears half-way down her middle finger. She can't help but imagine what those fingers would feel like straining inside of her, and when Cassie blows softly on the back of her neck, dropping a kiss against her shoulder, the background music does nothing to drown out Rachel's moan. She turns around, cupping Cassie's face in her hands with the intention of drawing her into another ardent kiss, but Cassie steps aside, glancing regretfully at the clock.

"We can't," she says, clearing her throat, "Not now."

Rachel is seconds away from saying "please," but then she realises that would probably constitute begging, so she just purses her lips and nods.

"Consider the next two hours a lesson in self-control, Schwimmer," Cassie informs her with an insidious wink, "Then maybe if some coffin-dodger decides to take a phone call during your big moment, you won't feel the need to go after him with a baseball bat."

Rachel ducks her head, trying not to laugh, and Cassie narrows her eyes.

"People over the age of sixty shouldn't be allowed cell phones, Schwimmer. Not if they can't figure out how to use them."

Rachel can't hold it in any longer. She snorts at the incensed expression on Cassie's face, and they're both laughing when the studio door swings open.

Rachel's eyes widen when Carmen Tibideaux steps into the room, and she immediately sobers up, glancing anxiously at Cassie. Even though Miss Tibideaux couldn't possibly have seen what just transpired between them, Rachel's hands still feel a little clammy.