A Brighter Palette Read online

  “Take your time,” Annie said quietly. “I’m going to get some work done too.” Siobhán didn’t respond, already immersed in her painting again. Annie stood and stretched, then retrieved the laptop from where it sat on the TV stand. She figured she might as well finish the piece she had due before Siobhán distracted her again.

  She took a seat on the couch once more and booted up the laptop. Crap, I forgot to talk to Siobhán about the password, she thought. She was about to ask for one, when she realized it had loaded without one.

  Siobhán seems to be a very trusting person, Annie thought. She’d opened her home to Annie and offered her the use of her electronics with no thought of Annie snooping through her personal things. Not that she was likely to, even though she’d been given the opportunity, but she appreciated Siobhán’s trust.

  And, Annie had to admit, it made it easier for her to trust Siobhán. Clearly, Siobhán had nothing to hide.

  Annie logged into her email, refreshed her memory about the blog post topic she was supposed to cover, and then quickly brought up a word document and began typing. Unlike many days, the words seemed to flow effortlessly, and in no time at all, Annie had a solid post. She skimmed through the words several more times, tweaking a line here and there, and polishing it until she was sure there were no errors. She saved it and submitted it via email, feeling proud of herself for having gotten her work done with some time to spare. She was forever scrambling to meet deadlines.

  When she closed the laptop and set it on the ottoman, she caught sight of Siobhán staring at her with a small smile.

  “How’d it go?” she asked.

  “Quite well,” Annie said, returning the smile. “My work is done.”

  “As is mine.” Siobhán stood gracefully.

  “Perfect timing then.”

  “Want to take a shower?” Siobhán asked, holding out a hand streaked with cobalt and crimson.

  “With you?”

  Siobhán closed the distance between them and dropped a kiss to Annie’s lips before she took her hand. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  ***

  Annie closed her eyes as Siobhán slid soapy hands across her skin, massaging her muscles with strong, deft fingers. “God, that feels amazing.”

  Siobhán nibbled at her ear as their wet skin, slicked with bubbles, rubbed together enticingly. “You are amazing.”

  Annie shook her head, but she was too relaxed to argue.

  Siobhán dropped to her knees and ran her hands up Annie’s thighs, coaxing Annie to lift one foot onto the edge of the tub. She shifted so her back rested against the corner of the tiled shower, propping herself up.

  “Are you good like that?” Siobhán asked, pressing a kiss to Annie’s thigh.

  Annie reached for the shower curtain rod to anchor herself, grateful it was one of the heavy-duty ones that screwed into the wall. She swallowed hard and nodded. “I’m good.”

  Siobhán squeezed her ankle, then let go. “Just stay right there, so.”

  So. Annie smiled. I haven’t heard that since I lived in Dublin. The Irish have a funny habit of ending sentences with ‘so’ instead of ‘then’ but it’s rather charming ...

  The feel of Siobhán’s lips on her pubic mound made Annie’s thoughts flee. She gently parted Annie’s lips with her fingers and looked up at her. Annie shuddered at the first swipe of her tongue and let her head fall back. She couldn’t watch Siobhán go down on her. Not without her legs collapsing out from under her.

  Siobhán took her time, exploring Annie’s folds with an unhurried thoroughness that made her head spin. Annie felt lightheaded from the heat and steam from the hot water. Along with the feel of Siobhán’s tongue, it left her dazed.

  Annie cried out when Siobhán eased two fingers into her and began to move them. It took little to tip her over the edge, and after a few short strokes, Annie clenched around Siobhán’s fingers, her whole body going tight as she shook from the force of her orgasm.

  “Fuck,” she cried. “Fuck. I ... Ohhhhhh.”

  Her legs gave out and the only thing holding her up was her grip on the shower rod. Siobhán stood and pressed her body against Annie’s, pinning her to the tile wall. “You okay, love?”

  Dazed, Annie lifted her head and opened her eyes. “I’m good.” She smiled, feeling drunk and dazed. “So good. I’m not sure my legs will work anymore, but I’m good.”

  Siobhán chuckled and pressed a kiss against Annie’s collarbone. “I promise I won’t let you fall.”

  Annie shakily lowered her foot to the bottom of the tub, then loosened her grip on the curtain rod, flexing her sore fingers, cramped from how hard she’d been clenching it. “That was ...” she sighed. “God, Siobhán.”

  “I could do that all day.”

  “I don’t think I could survive you doing that all day,” Annie admitted.

  Siobhán turned away and reached for a razor, but Annie stilled her. “My turn. Don’t move.”

  Siobhán craned her neck and smiled at her as she let the razor drop into the shower caddy. “Shouldn’t I turn around?”

  She pressed a kiss to Siobhán’s back, right against the little constellation of freckles on her shoulder. “No.”

  Annie slid her hands around to Siobhán’s front, her fingers sliding across her wet skin as she cupped Siobhán’s breasts. They felt heavy in her hands, full and soft. Annie brushed her thumbs back and forth across the pebbled tips, feeling the skin crinkle and tighten further. Under the sound of running water, she heard the catch in Siobhán’s breathing.

  “You like that?” she murmured against Siobhán’s ear, and Siobhán nodded. Annie tweaked her rapidly hardening nipples, pinching a little, and Siobhán shuddered, her breath coming hard and fast.

  Annie pressed closer to Siobhán, her own breasts rubbing against Siobhán’s back. Annie slid one hand lower, over the soft patch of hair, then delved between Siobhán’s thighs. She was wet already, her arousal slicker and more silky than the water. Annie cupped her mound in her palm as she slid two fingers into Siobhán’s soft heat.

  Siobhán’s head fell back on Annie’s shoulder, and she panted quietly, her hips rising and falling with the rhythm of Annie’s touch. Annie gently circled her clit, and Siobhán squirmed against her, increasing the pressure.

  “Oh!” Siobhán cried out, sounding surprised. “Oh, Annie,” she moaned.

  “Like that?” Annie asked, and Siobhán nodded. Annie pressed more tightly to Siobhán, supporting her weight as she fucked Siobhán with her fingers, curling her fingers inward as she pressed hard against her pubic mound and teased Siobhán’s nipples.

  Siobhán tensed and came apart, shuddering and shaking as she cried out, her hands scrabbling at the slippery tiles. Annie felt a little gush of liquid against her palm, and Siobhán slumped in her arms with a soft cry.

  “Easy,” Annie murmured, gently withdrawing her fingers.

  Siobhán shuddered a final time, and she let her head loll into the curve of Annie’s neck.

  “Feck, Annie,” Siobhán murmured dazedly in her ear.

  Annie smiled and hugged Siobhán. “Good?”

  “Mind-blowing.” Siobhán turned in her arms and kissed Annie, a lazy tangle of tongues that conveyed gratitude and happiness.

  “You ready to get out?” Annie asked after Siobhán pulled back.

  She nodded and turned off the water. Annie pushed back the shower curtain and helped Siobhán out of the tub. She stumbled a little and laughed quietly. “You said I made your legs weak, but mine will hardly hold me.”

  Thrilled by how thoroughly she’d pleased Siobhán, Annie grabbed a towel from the rack. Siobhán propped herself up against the sink, and Annie dried her, patting her hair dry and gently rubbing at her skin.

  Siobhán’s head lolled and her eyes went heavy-lidded as she smiled at Annie. “Mmm, this is nice.”

  Annie smiled back at her. “I’m glad.”

  “Come back to bed with me?” Siobhán asked as she strai
ghtened and took the towel from Annie’s hand. “We can nap for a bit, then get up and figure out what we want for dinner.”

  Annie debated while Siobhán toweled her dry. “I don’t know; I really should go home,” she finally said.

  Siobhán gave her a little pout. “Can’t I just have you for a little longer? Spend one more night with me, and I promise I’ll let you go home in the morning.”

  Annie chuckled and kissed her. “And what if you say that again tomorrow?”

  “I won’t.” Siobhán stared at her intently. “I’ll be tempted, but I promise I won’t pout too much if you want to go home tomorrow.”

  Annie shook her head, but she let Siobhán drag her back into the bedroom. As Siobhán curled around her and pulled her close, Annie pressed a kiss to her forearm and wondered how she was ever going to convince herself to leave.

  Chapter Four

  The following day, Annie set her shoes on the mostly empty rack inside the front door of her apartment with a sigh, trying to ignore the tangle of discarded footwear strewn on the wood floor directly next to it. If she let herself get annoyed by every single mess her roommates created, she’d lose her mind.

  She’d finally, reluctantly, tore herself from Siobhán’s arms to go home. Annie had left her apartment on Friday night and was just now returning on Sunday morning. Late morning at that.

  She glanced at herself in the mirror, fluffed her hair, and then gave up with a sigh. Almost two days with no grooming products or makeup, besides what she’d had stashed in her purse, and she looked a bit worse for wear. Although, there was a well-satisfied glow about her.

  Why did she—a fully grown woman—feel like she was doing the walk of shame at the moment. And what did she care what her roommates thought about how she looked or acted? That had never mattered to her before. Still, as she maneuvered through the snug living room, filled with Trent’s giant TV and oversized couch, she crossed her fingers that everyone would still be in bed or out.

  To her chagrin, she ran into Trent and Rebecca as she passed through the large but awkwardly laid out kitchen to get to her bedroom.

  “I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out and forgot to tell us,” Trent said through a mouthful of food. Annie had been attracted to Trent for about two minutes when they met. He had the kind of square-jawed, tan, preppy handsomeness that a lot of women found attractive, but he’d quickly ruined it for her when he opened his mouth. He wasn’t dumb—he had a kinesiology degree and worked as a physical therapist—he was just kind of a jackass.

  “Nope,” Annie said. “Just went out.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “For two days?” When she didn’t reply, he whistled lowly. “Oh, I get it. It was a date.”

  Rebecca—who had been sitting in a chair with her knees drawn up while she painted her toes—glanced up, nail polish brush frozen in her hand. “You had a date?”

  “It wasn’t really a date,” Annie protested.

  “I thought you went to a gallery show on Friday night.” Rebecca capped the nail polish bottle and twisted it shut. Her pretty face screwed up in confusion.

  “I did. But I didn’t go to the gallery show with anyone. I just went by myself.”

  “So what’d you do, fall asleep in the gallery and not wake up until now?” Trent asked.

  Annie cracked a smile. “No. I didn’t sleep at the gallery. I ... met someone there. The artist, actually. We really hit it off.”

  “Oooh,” Rebecca’s brown eyes sparkled. “Is he cute?”

  “He must have been good in bed at least,” Trent added. “If you were gone for two days.”

  She cleared her throat. “She, actually.”

  Rebecca twisted her thick, curly brown hair up into a messy bun using the elastic on her wrist. She glanced at Annie when she was done. “Oh, right. I forget about that.”

  “That” meaning her bisexuality.

  Rebecca looked back down at her toes as if she was bored now that the conversation wasn’t about a guy. Rebecca had always been nice, but they didn’t have much in common. She was the quintessential Boston white girl, complete with Ugg boots and North Face jackets. She’d dated a string of guys in the time Annie had known her, jumping from relationship to relationship in a never-ending search for the perfect man. Despite living together, their lives were worlds apart, and Annie probably shouldn’t have been surprised that Rebecca didn’t quite understand her bisexuality.

  “Her name is Siobhán,” Annie said aloud. “She’s an amazing painter, and we really clicked.”

  “What kind of a name is that?” Trent asked. “Is she some weird hippy chick? Or black? Because Sha-vonn kinda sounds like she might be.”

  “The name Siobhán is Irish. And you probably don’t want to try to guess how it’s spelled. I can pretty much guarantee you’d be wrong.” Annie crossed her arms over her chest. “Besides, Dee is black. Why would you of all people care if I’m dating a black woman?” Dee was Trent’s girlfriend and the fourth roommate in their three-bedroom apartment.

  “I don’t. I just didn’t know you were down with that.”

  “Right.” Annie rolled her eyes and walked toward her bedroom.

  “So I have to ask. Is your tongue tired from all the pussy-eating you did?” Trent asked. “I would get so sick of that.”

  Annie turned back to face him. “You’re dating a woman—you should know what it’s like.”

  “Yeah, but I’ve got a dick.” Trent grabbed his crotch through the thin fabric of his athletic shorts. “I don’t have to use my tongue much. Just on special occasions, like her birthday.”

  “Dee is such a lucky woman,” Annie replied, rolling her eyes again. Frankly, Dee was way too smart for Trent, but there was no accounting for taste. Dee was also in nursing school and so busy with her clinical rotations that Annie rarely saw them together. Maybe that was how the relationship worked? Either that or Trent was stellar in bed. After all, why else would Dee put up with his obnoxiousness?

  Trent smirked. “You know it, baby. What I’m packing is way better than that hunk of plastic you probably strap on.”

  Annie opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she turned and made a beeline for her bedroom. Probably better not to get into a discussion about what sex between two women was like. At best, Trent would claim that it wasn’t real sex without a dick involved. At worst, he’d ask her to demonstrate it for him.

  She firmly shut the door behind her with a sense of relief. Jesus, if I don’t strangle that guy one day, it will be a fucking miracle.

  Annie squeezed by her bed, retrieved her phone from her purse, and hung it on a hook next to the minuscule closet. She turned around to look at her bedroom, and the view made her frown.

  The room was hardly big enough to turn around in. She’d managed to cram in a comfy, full size bed and shelf and chair combo that functioned as a desk of sorts, but there was little space for anything else. Annie sighed and fell back onto the lavender duvet. Her room was as neat as she could make it with so little space, and she’d painted and hung a couple art prints on the walls to spruce it up, but the more she looked at it, the more it came up lacking. Siobhán’s apartment hadn’t been large but it had been bright and welcoming. Compared to that, Annie’s room felt bland and lifeless.

  Especially without a gorgeous Irish woman in my bed, Annie mused.

  She’d left Siobhán’s place reluctantly, but she was determined not to overstay her welcome. And now that she was home, she felt blah and had begun to regret leaving. It had all just been such a whirlwind—meeting Siobhán, hitting it off so well, climbing into bed, and barely leaving it for two days—and so impulsive. So un-Annie. She’d loved every minute of it, but it really wasn’t her style.

  What was that old joke about lesbians moving in together after two dates? Well, maybe it was because she was bi or just because she’d had her heart broken a time or six—by women and men—but she couldn’t quite move that fast. She needed some time to re-group and think.
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  Annie sighed and stared at the ceiling for a while, watching the sunlight filter through the leaves of the tree outside her window make pretty patterns on the ceiling. It was the best part of living here. The apartment itself was nothing special, and Annie really could have done without the hassle of sharing it with three other people, but she had fallen in love with the way the sun streamed through her bedroom windows. Whenever she felt stressed, she liked to lie on the bed and let her mind drift as she watched the light play through the trees.

  If it wouldn’t involve Siobhán having to deal with her obnoxious roommates, Annie would bring Siobhán there and show her. She could picture lying naked in bed with Siobhán, watching the sunlight shift and move as they talked.

  Annie rolled over onto her stomach with a sigh when she realized she and Siobhán hadn’t done a lot of getting to know each other. Well, they had physically, but she’d only gotten little snippets about where Siobhán had come from and what her past was like. They’d ignored that part in favor of more physical things.

  When she’d left Siobhán’s place, Siobhán had kissed her goodbye and promised they’d talk soon. But they hadn’t made any official plans to get together again. Or talked about what they wanted. Earlier, as Annie took the subway home to the North End, her fears and insecurities had multiplied until the entire weekend with Siobhán had seemed like a beautiful dream she’d woken up from. Which meant it would gradually fade until it was nothing but a memory.

  Now, doubts assailed Annie. Had this just been a fling for Siobhán? Did Siobhán do this often? Maybe she regularly brought home women she met at her shows and went to bed with them for two days.

  Annie groaned and rolled onto her back again before she forced herself to get up and take a seat at her so-called desk. Freaking out about Siobhán wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She might as well see if she could get any more work done. Aside from the one blog post, her life had been more or less put on hold for two days. Now that she was home, she needed to get back to it.