Chapter 45
Yet it was a new day, they were still together, and she’d practically offered herself to Delaney only to get shot down. So either Delaney was moving slow—realslow—or she wasn’t into Tara at all. And if that was the case, why invite her to stay the night? Why make her breakfast? Why not kick her out first thing in the morning?
From the other room, Delaney called out, “How do you take your coffee?”
“Milk and sugar, if you have it.” Tara threw back the covers and stretched. “I’ll come fix it. I like it real sweet.”
She padded barefoot into the kitchen. At the counter, Delaney had two mugs set aside, both obvious souvenirs from a shop on the boardwalk. As Tara approached, Delaney wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in to kiss her neck. “Hmm, so do I.”
Leaning into the kiss, Tara sighed. Okay, so you areinto me. Which is good. I think.
Where did they go from here?
* * * *
After breakfast, Delaney grabbed a towel out of the bathroom closet and a small shower caddy from beside the tub, then led Tara outside. They were still in their bedclothes and barefoot, and Tara tugged at the hem of her T-shirt to make sure it didn’t flutter up in the breeze. She needn’t have worried, though; it was too hot already despite the early hour, and nothing was blowing in off the sea.
Leading the way around to the back of the house, Delaney stopped in front of what looked like a wooden, roofless shed. But when she opened the door, Tara was surprised to see it was a shower stall instead. There was a wooden bench along one side, and a hook high up on the other side where the towel and caddy could be stored out of the flow of the water. A showerhead and hot/cold faucet handles stuck right out of the house’s brick facade, and the concrete walkway beneath the stall angled down so the water would wash away into the drain at the center of the shower.
Tara was impressed. “How fucking cool is this?” she gushed. She couldn’t wait to try it out.
With a laugh, Delaney hung up the shower caddy and towel inside the stall. “It’s great in the summer, I’ll admit. But around January, when there’s a foot of snow on the ground, I’d give anything for an indoor shower. I get so damn sick of baths.”
She left then, but Tara suspected she hadn’t gone far. Rather, Tara hoped she hadn’t. There was a hook and eye latch on the inside of the shower stall, and as Tara locked the door, she smiled imagining unlocking it again as the water pounded down around her. She could almost hear the gentle knock and Delaney’s voice calling out, “Want company?”
I thought you’d never ask.
She’d play it cool, though. What happened to not wanting a summer fling?she asked herself. No fly-by-night romance, no one night stand?
Fuck it. Tara liked this woman and wanted to be with her. Hell, the more Delaney kept her distance and doled out those little kisses, the worse Tara needed her. She almost wished Delaney was showering first so shecould take the initiative and knock on the closed door, invite herself inside.
Turning on the faucets, she let the water run up to temperature while she undressed, then turned on the showerhead. The first spray was ice cold and delicious; she gave a squeal of delight as the water made her naked flesh pimple and her nipples harden in the morning air. Had she ever been nude outdoors before? She didn’t think so, and while no one could see her, it still felt downright decadent.
There was a loofah and body wash in the shower caddy, plus shampoo and conditioner. Tara took her time lathering up, hoping with each passing minute that Delaney would return. When that didn’t happen, she had to take things into her own hands, using the bench for leverage as she rubbed the loofah between her legs and gasped quietly into the hot morning air. She imagined the hands on her soapy body weren’t her own but Delaney’s, and she came faster than she thought she would, her knees weak from the rush of pleasure roiling through her.
By the time she had rinsed off the suds and salt and sand from the night before, she was back to thinking Delaney was only being nice. Tara would go back to Marlene’s, sit through Amanda’s wedding, and return to Richmond on Monday with fond memories of the night before and vague longings of what might have happened between them if only…
If only…
Turning off the shower, she wrapped herself up in the towel, gathered up her bedclothes and the caddy, and headed back inside the apartment. Delaney was in the process of making the futon or, rather, tossing the covers around so it looked more like a bed than a rumpled mess. She still wore the T-shirt she’d slept in, and when she leaned over the futon to straighten the sheets, the shirt pulled up high, exposing tanned legs that seemed to stretch for miles. Tara caught a glimpse of bright blue panties and felt heat flush through her all over again.