Olive Oil and White Bread by Georgia Beers Page A

chuckled, hoping her relief wasn’t too obvious. “I think you’re letting this go to your head.”
    â€œOh, I totally am. So have you never given a girl an orgasm before? Because you seemed to know exactly what you were doing, let me just say.”
    â€œWell, thank you. No, you’re my first there too.”
    Jillian shifted, moving her body atop Angie’s, and took one of Angie’s nipples into her mouth, nibbling playfully. “If you’ve never gone all the way with any girl before me,” she began, shifting acrossto the other nipple and sucking hard enough to make Angie catch her breath. “Then oh my”—she rocked her hips a little, forcing Angie to open her legs to accommodate her—“how lucky am I?” With that, Jillian raised herself to her knees, pushed Angie’s thighs as far apart as they’d go, and leaned down. At the first touch to her center, Angie sucked in every particle of air her lungs would hold. Her hips lifted as if trying to reach more of Jillian’s mouth. The hot wetness and probing tongue set her heart to racing and her fingers to grasping at Jillian’s head, fisting handfuls of her blonde hair as a groan ripped up from deep in her throat.
    â€œHoly Mary, Mother of God,” Angie whispered. “Oh my god, Jillian. Oh my god.” She swore she could feel Jillian smiling against her own wet flesh. It became impossible to tell exactly where Jillian’s tongue was touching her, where her lips met Angie’s own skin, how much moisture was her and how much was Jillian. Angie knew nothing but sensation. Hot, beautiful, sensual sensation. And just when she thought she might spontaneously combust, when she was sure her arousal couldn’t possibly surge any higher, Jillian pushed her fingers inside—deep inside—her tongue playing over the hot, sticky wet, and Angie exploded.

    The clock on the nightstand read 3:24 as the two of them lay spent in Angie’s bed, having finally abandoned the living-room floor for something more comfortable. The intention had been to get some sleep, but they’d made a mutual decision that one more orgasm was necessary first.
    Now they lay entwined with one another and Angie’s limbs felt like they were made of pudding. Very heavy pudding. Jillian’s blonde head was pillowed on Angie’s shoulder, her breathing deep and even. Angie stroked her fingertips absently along the smooth skin of Jillian’s shoulder as she lay awake, reliving the night in her mind and trying to analyze the surprising emotion simmering inside her.
    Was it possible to fall this quickly? She didn’t really know Jillian, and yet she felt like she did. Was that weird? Was it simply because of the sex? The awesome, limb-melting, mind-blowing sex? Was thatobscuring the logic with which she should be looking at the situation? Was she being a U-Haul lesbian cliché? Because at that moment, she never wanted to move a muscle again. She would be perfectly content to stay in her bed with Jillian’s warm, naked body wrapped around her own forever and a day.
    Angie mentally shook herself, told herself to stop being so silly. She was twenty-five years old, not sixteen. Fairy tale romances happened only in trashy novels, and love at first sight didn’t exist. She needed to just take a chill pill or she’d send Jillian screaming into the street to get away from a crazy, clingy lesbian.
    Jillian shifted slightly in her sleep, and then a tiny grin turned up the corners of her mouth, causing just a teasing peek of her dimples. Angie swallowed hard, and in her mind, threw in the towel. It was over, and she knew it.
    She would do anything to see that smile.
    Anything.

Five
    The entire house shook, causing Jillian to fly down the stairs, worry etched on her face. Something had obviously fallen, she just didn’t know what. “What was that? What happened?”
    Shay and Laura looked like