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  Open Spaces

  Barbara Winkes

  Copyright © 2014, 2017 by Barbara Winkes

  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

  without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  For D.

  …and everyone who believes in the power of love.

  Chapter One

  Left to her own devices and the open bar by her friend DeeDee, Summer was halfway through her second Whiskey Sour, contemplating a third. So far, DeeDee’s attempt at getting get her out of the house to do something fun had been a moderate disaster. Moderate, since she was indeed out of the house, but the fun part was yet to come. Summer liked some of the art, sculptures and paintings in this new wing of the Museum of Fine Arts. By now, though, she had seen all of it, and there wasn’t much left to do. She wasn’t good at small talk, and she didn’t know anyone besides DeeDee.

  Summer wasn’t much of a drinker either, so the combination could only end in a rather embarrassing situation if she didn’t call herself a cab soon. Tomorrow, she’d be back to grading papers in her cozy studio. The only difference? She was likely to do it with a hangover. Summer didn’t feel any pain yet. At least, no one bothered her in this corner, and she had an excellent vantage point to watch the other guests.

  DeeDee, one of the museum’s curators, was busy tonight. This was no leisurely party for her. The long-awaited opening of the new wing was like a new business card for the museum whose visitor numbers had been dwindling lately. New exhibitions had been acquired for display in the airy space designed by a local group. Winding staircases leading up to the higher levels treated the spectator to a beautiful view of the city. Each room was designed with loving detail.

  There was only so long she could admire bold and stunning architecture before reality caught up with her. DeeDee thought Summer was lonely. She wanted to help. The problem was, Summer hadn’t felt as lonely as she did among these people in some time. There were many couples among the guests, mostly though not exclusively straight. She caught two women kissing each other’s cheek in greeting, their body language in the following conversation revealing, or maybe Summer was making that up in her mind. She couldn’t deny the longing, but of course it wasn’t that easy entering and maintaining a relationship when you were tied up in a multitude of responsibilities. The thought came with an instant, familiar pang of guilt. Summer didn’t mind caring for her mother, or working on her Ph.D. at the same time. The past year had come with tough decisions, and letting another person, with their own hopes and dreams, into her life, would only cause more complications.

  Oh well, it wasn’t like any of those well dressed gorgeous women were actually interested in her. She was feeling a bit sorry for herself. Tomorrow would be different. Summer took another sip from her glass and signaled the bartender for another. She could have sworn she saw sympathy in his expression—or was it pity?—but who cared. She wouldn’t ever see him again. To his credit, he made damn good Whiskey Sours, and for that, Summer could be forgiving. She went back to watching the crowd, thinking how little she had in common with any of them.

  Summer wondered if people actually hooked up at events like this, spent the night together and moved on. Not that she planned to. She hadn’t had sex with anyone in almost two years. Maybe she’d even forgotten how it worked. At the thought, Summer had to suppress an inappropriate giggle at first, then it came to her that it was kind of sad. There was no point in dwelling, nothing she could do about it in the immediate future. She’d sit here and finish her drink, watch strangers and imagine whom she would have liked to take home in another life—where was that woman in the red dress she’d seen kissing her “friend” before? Tomorrow, she’d be back to the predictable, responsible person she and everyone else knew Summer Philips to be.

  Tonight…She shifted from one foot to the other, aware of the sensation that came with the idea. Living alone had some advantages. It was easier to deal with some sensations and fantasies. She’d find DeeDee, thank her for the invitation and say goodbye, but first she’d better find the restroom.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered to herself, a moment later, when she stood at the top of another circular staircase leading down to the Ladies’ room. The Men’s room was up, Women’s down. It could only be so long before someone would make a dirty joke about that, then again, maybe it was just her. Flat surfaces were manageable, although the high heels, which were another highly questionable idea, were starting to hurt her feet. Summer was a bit wary of the wide stairs. One step at a time—this motto had served her well for the past few years. She could get down a flight of stairs, for Pete’s sake. She reached the bottom at last, gingerly taking one step at a time and holding on to the banister.

  A life-sized silhouette of a woman decorated the door. Inside, the room was clean and colorful, and surprisingly small, Summer realized, when she found herself in close quarters with the woman who was washing her hands at the sink.

  Their eyes met, and Summer forgot about the intention that had led her down here. The woman was wearing her hair in a classic bun, fitting the dark red dress that was short enough to reveal long legs, the effect enhanced by pumps with heels higher than Summer’s. Up close, Summer realized she knew her. DeeDee had told her about Lauren Schaeffer, the project manager of the architect group that had designed the museum’s new wing. She was the one she’d seen all touchy-feely with that friend of hers earlier.

  Lauren dried her hands with the paper towel, in no hurry, her gaze amused. That was when Summer realized she’d been staring, with no valid excuse for it.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, clearing her throat. Damn, it was hot in here. “The new wing, I mean…I understand it’s your creation. I’m Summer.” Not that anyone had asked.

  “Lauren Schaeffer. Thank you. I’m glad it’s been so well received,” Lauren said, reaching out a hand as she turned to Summer. “We took some chances.”

  The tone of her voice did not reflect the rather formal greeting, and when their hands touched, Summer imagined she wasn’t the only one holding on a bit longer than necessary.

  “I think they paid off. I was going to…”

  “Oh yes, of course. I’m sorry,” Lauren said, but instead of stepping aside, she stepped closer into Summer’s personal space. Summer got a whiff of her perfume, a warm, intense fragrance. Her back was against the door, and with the realization, every image she’d ever seen in a movie of strangers making out in a bathroom stall came to mind. Where did that come from?

  “Don’t be. I can’t seem to make up my mind where I’m going.”

  Lauren gave her a long last look. Maybe she was imagining some of the same things. The idea made Summer blush hotly. All those cocktails with just a few appetizers for dinner…not a good idea. “I guess I’ll go in there now.”

  “You do that. Have a good night.” She left the room, and Summer locked herself in the stall, a bit wobbly due to her high heels and current state. A moment later, she let the cold water run for longer than necessary, the equivalent of a cold shower she seemed to need. It didn’t do much.

  Now wasn’t a good moment to lament sins of omission from the past two years because, frankly, she hadn’t been good at that kind of superficial conversation before. Even if she’d had a clearer concept of what to do about those raging fantasies, she wouldn’t know how. With a regretful sigh at her mirror image—cute, but apparently not enough to hold the attention of a woman like Lauren Schaeffer—she turned away and stepped out into
the hallway.

  “Hey there.”

  Jolted out of her thoughts, Summer gasped. Lauren stood leaning against the wall, giving her an apologetic smile. There was an inevitable question between them.

  “You said you didn’t know where you were going. I thought maybe…I could suggest something to you.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ve done my share of small talk and mingling. I’m ready to go if you are.”

  The cold water had done nothing to make her sober up or censor her communication, as Summer found out soon.

  “Aren’t you here with someone?” Even if she wasn’t, was she really suggesting what Summer thought she was?

  “No,” Lauren said.

  “You kissed her.” That sounded downright accusatory. Tune it down.

  Lauren’s lips curved into a knowing smile. For a few heartbeats or so, Summer was distracted by staring at them, and truth be told, she didn’t care much about what she’d seen earlier. It seemed like her chances of going home with Lauren were much better than the other woman’s. At this point, she really wanted to.

  “I see.” Lauren leaned in to brush her lips against Summer’s cheek, just barely, but the whisper of a contact was enough to make her draw a shuddering breath, anticipation climbing to an almost unbearable height. If this was enough to cause this warm pleasant tingle, what would a real touch do? “I kissed her like that. She’s a friend. Of course, I was thinking of doing something else with you.”

  “Yeah?” The kiss to her neck was a lot less chaste, and she had to hold on to Lauren, run her hands up her back, to steady herself maybe, or to revel in the pleasure of feeling the heat of her body against her own. She wanted her. Summer didn’t want to wait much longer for the fear that if they did, one of them might change their mind, realize that this was crazy.

  “Yeah.” When Lauren straightened, the lust in her gaze unmistakable, it occurred to Summer the danger was not that either of them might step back at the last moment. If they didn’t get out of here soon, public indecency was likely to happen.

  “Would you like to come to my place? It’s close…and a lot more comfortable than this.”

  “I’d love to,” Summer said. She couldn’t have been more honest.

  “Good. Aside from the obvious, I’m dying to get out of those shoes.”

  Still, in the cab, Summer felt like she had to offer some sort of explanation, try to make sense of the way desire had taken over her mind and body without any resistance from either.

  “You know, I don’t usually do that, crash other people’s parties, get drunk and then come on to them.”

  “That’s a relief. I was hoping I was special.” Lauren crossed her long legs, leaning back comfortably in the backseat of the car.

  Summer couldn’t wait for the moment when she’d finally be able to touch her, without the curious looks of the cab driver. “You are. I swear, I mean—”

  “That’s okay. You don’t have to explain. First, you didn’t crash the party. I know you came with DeeDee. Second—you’re not that drunk, are you?” There was concern in her dark eyes, for more than the possibility that they might not sleep together tonight.

  “No,” Summer whispered. Just enough to get a little braver than usual.

  The cab driver made a show out of fiddling with the radio.

  “Then we’ll be fine. The last part, that’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

  It is. I hope I won’t disappoint.

  * * * *

  Upon their arrival at Lauren’s apartment, Summer had excused herself for a quick trip to the guest bathroom, until they could no longer avoid the moment of truth.

  “Do you like it? When I moved in, we had to leave the bare bones, but I worked with an amazing crew to make it fit what I wanted.”

  They stood in the living area of the loft-like apartment, a kitchen and dining space to the left, a circular staircase leading to the upper floor. Lauren had finally freed her hair which came down her shoulders in waves.

  “It’s…wonderful.” Usually, Summer would have been drawn to the floor-to-ceiling shelves at the back wall, but when her gaze fell on the white suede couch, literature was far from her mind. “I like the couch,” she said. “It looks like it would be comfortable to make out on.”

  The censors were pretty much down, still, but judging from Lauren’s lazy smile, she didn’t mind. “You want to try?”

  Summer sat, holding her gaze, the gesture feeling daring. They were stumbling into their first kiss, lips, tongues, hands starting to explore without reservations. Without breaking the kiss, she brushed her fingers over Lauren’s breasts, feeling her nipples harden through the thin fabric of the dress. The one sensation caused an avalanche of others in her own body, the warm pulse between her thighs intensifying.

  The next moment, she found herself on her back, Lauren on top of her, her hand caressing Summer’s knee, wandering upwards. Her lips were once again exploring Summer’s neck, a spot she obviously enjoyed. Summer enjoyed herself too. Forget about making out, or even getting out of all their clothes, she was ready to go all the way, right now.

  “Comfortable enough?”

  Lauren had reached her goal, her fingers, warm and confident, tracing the strip of fabric.

  “Oh God.” Summer bit her lip, closing her eyes as she leaned back into the cushion, opening herself to Lauren’s touch. Lauren rewarded her with more of the gentle pressure.

  “You know there’s a bed upstairs,” she informed Summer in a breathless whisper. “It will be even better.”

  Summer wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk, but she trusted Lauren enough to let her draw her back gently from the brink. She had the feeling this was going to be a long, enjoyable night.

  “Okay.” She stood on wobbly legs, which had little to do with the earlier alcohol consumption and everything with the prospects. Summer was glad Lauren walked behind her up those stairs. “What is it with you and those circular staircases?” she murmured.

  Lauren laughed, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

  “I guess I like curves,” she said, turning Summer to her when they’d reached the top of the stairs and pulling her close for another kiss. Her hands, running down Summer’s back, and even lower, demonstrated the truth of her statement.

  “I am so lucky.” She caught a fleeting glance at the lights of the city through the huge window, skyscrapers, and the familiar landmark. There was a moment of self-consciousness when Summer realized her dress had somehow ended up on the floor, and even more when she had to admit that after those moments on the couch, it was a little late to be self-conscious.

  “Let me look at you?” Lauren’s breath caught in her throat. It wasn’t like Summer was going to turn around and walk away at this point, not just because she didn’t think she could, or even wanted to make it down those stairs now. She couldn’t wait to touch her, to have those gentle curious hands back on her body, caressing her skin…

  “You are still all dressed,” she said. “It makes me feel a little…” She let her words trail off, unsure of what the right term was.

  “It shouldn’t make you feel anything but gorgeous, because you are.”

  Flattery. Her face was burning already.

  Reaching over her shoulder, Lauren frowned. “I could use some help with that zipper though. It’s too damn high.”

  Summer was more than happy to help. She also realized her hands were trembling. Lauren had noticed it too. She reached out to brush a hand over Summer’s hair, fingertips caressing her shoulders, which did not help with the trembling, but maybe it wasn’t s sign of nervousness after all.

  “You know, this is going pretty fast. It would kind of suck if you changed your mind, but if you did, that’d be okay.”

  “No.” Finally able to touch warm, bare skin, Summer found that her focus returned immediately. Within seconds, the last pieces of clothing were gone, tossed carelessly to the floor. Heated kisses, the two of them wrapped around each
other on bright white sheets, there was no room for doubt anymore. For two years, Summer had made herself believe she was perfectly fine with her celibate state—that was until it all came back to her, the joy of being breathless with lust, sharing intimate caresses, the feel of another woman’s sex against her own. Letting go. When Lauren’s hand slid between her thighs, Summer opened up to her questing fingers easily, sighing with relief as they slid into her, each movement bringing a new jolt of pleasure. Lauren leaned in to kiss her, deeply.

  Summer closed her eyes, allowing her mind to go blank save for the sensations building, heat, tension, towards the inevitable climax. She lay still for several moments, somewhat stunned with the intensity. She opened her eyes to Lauren smiling like she was pleased with herself. She had reason to be…and Summer had every intention of properly rewarding her, except for the moment, she was too comfortable in her arms.

  “Don’t worry,” Lauren whispered when she started to move. “There’s time. I don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow. You?”

  “No, not really.” Summer smiled at her, stretched out on the bed, all beautiful. All hers. She didn’t feel tired after all. In fact, she didn’t think she’d had this much energy in some time. “I’d like to make use of the time we have though…if you don’t mind?”

  Lauren looked a little smug as she linked her hands behind her head. “Show me what you got.”

  They both chuckled, but not for long, because the time issue couldn’t be denied, and it wasn’t anything either of them wanted to think about too much at this moment. Fortunately, Summer had not forgotten anything at all. She wanted to go slow. If they never saw each other after this night, she wanted to make it count, give the woman trembling with want underneath her something to remember. She abandoned their hungry kiss to enjoy every single sound she was eliciting from Lauren by caressing her with lips and tongue, a trace along her collarbone, moving downwards to her breasts. Flicking her tongue over a nipple, then sucking it into her mouth. Lauren’s next breath sounded like a sob, making Summer very much aware of the hot pulse of arousal between her own legs. If it was this intense, she could only imagine what it was like for Lauren…She’d make her wait a bit longer though, render her completely helpless. Summer was quite confident she could. Lauren was squirming beneath her, her hands tightening in Summer’s hair, almost painfully when Summer dipped her tongue into her navel.