Page 69 of Spicy Sapphic Christmas

“Lift up.” The demand in Bunny’s voice was back, but this time that wasn’t what bothered Bea.

“What?” Bea couldn’t have heard that right. She needed more friction against Bunny, not less.

“Just a little.” Bunny laughed as she slid a hand out from beneath Bea’s grip.

“Oh,” Bea said, the word breathy with understanding as soon as Bunny’s fingers brushed against her stomach. She lifted up, letting her knees take her weight as Bunny’s hand slipped between them.

“I want to be inside you.” Bunny struggled to form the sentence.

“Yes,” Bea answered immediately.

Bunny pushed two fingers inside with little resistance. But the sensation pulled a groan out of Bea, and she eased herself back down until the heel of Bunny’s palm was against her clit.

“How about that wiggling now, Bea?” Bunny’s voice was filled with all the right kinds of mischievous intentions.

Bunny and Bea locked eyes. Bunny’s shit-eating grin grew with each groan and pant she pulled from Bea. Her hips pushed up in unison with movement of her palm. The extra pressure pushed Bunny’s fingers deeper, pulling pleasure from places Bea didn’t even know existed.

Bea’s legs shuddered against Bunny’s hips, sweat beading down her back as she rocked harder and harder against Bunny’s fingers.

“Come for me,” Bunny demanded, and Bea couldn’t fathom arguing as her body tensed and that delicious coil unfurled inside of her.

With a scream of curses and guttural grunts, Bea’s orgasm washed over her. After another moment of tight muscles, she uncoiled and collapsed on top of Bunny. Panting heavily on Bunny’s chest and trying to catch her breath, Bea closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of Bunny’s sweat and their combined arousal. While Bunny’s fingers were still inside her, Bunny’s other hand caressed Bea’s hip, running over the side of her body in a gentle lover’s touch.

No. This wasn’t love. This couldn’t be love. This was Bunny. A brilliant fuck, but no. She couldn’t have actual feelings for her. Could she? What a ridiculous notion.

“Are you good?” Bea asked once the power of speech returned and to distract her from her terrifying train of thought.

“Oh, I’m always good watching a woman come apart when I fuck her.”

“Oh.” Bea slapped herself for having even let that previous thought enter her mind. She’d been right—this wasn’t love. It couldn’t ever be that. “But would you like more?”

“I’m good.” Bunny gently eased her hand out from between the two of them.

Bea rolled over and stared back up at the uncracked ceiling. She’d never been more grateful for her ability to keep her thoughts inside her head, even after mind-blowing sex.

Without any other words, Bunny pulled the sheet up from the end of the bed and laid it over her own and Bea’s hips, keeping their breasts open to the cool air. It danced over Bea’s overheated skin and sent goosebumps across her skin.

“I had a chat with Jo the other day.” Bunny interrupted the awkward silence, surprising Bea.

“What about?” Bea’s hackles rose instantly. She bit back any more words and tried to push aside instinctual worries about Jo. She knew she had to stop being the protective big sister, but she’d never really managed that. Even if they were only eleven months apart, she took her role as big sister seriously.

“She hasn’t talked to you about it?” Bunny shifted, looking at Bea directly.

“No.” Bea pulled the sheet over her chest as she turned on to her side, using one elbow to prop her head up.

“No big deal.” Bunny shrugged.

“Is it about Mandy?” Bea’s panic grew.

“No.” Bunny’s eyebrows pulled together as she turned her head to look at Bea again, sincerity in every line in her face. Despite being unbalanced, Bea eased a little just knowing Mandy wasn’t causing drama yet.

“So what did you two talk about?” Bea asked and the idea that she deserved an explanation rubbed something raw and uncomfortable inside of her. If it were business stuff, of course she had a right to know. But why hadn’t she been involved to begin with?

But this was Jo, of course she had a right to know. The small voice in the back of her head telling her she knew that wasn’t where her demand had originated was easy enough to ignore, for now.

“I’ve decided to change the lyrics toBaby, It’s Cold Outside,so it can be explicitly queer, like you suggested.”

“Really?” Bea pushed herself up to sitting with more energy and excitement than she had thought possible just moments ago.

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