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Kim Pritekel

Part 19


She closed her eyes, the hot mouth burning her skin as it trailed over her shoulder, a hot tongue flickering over a rigid nipple.  She gasped, back arching into the touch.  She buried her fingers in long, dark hair, pressing on the back of her head, needing more, wanting more.

“Oh, yes…” she purred, sensation rushing through her body, lava gathering between her thighs.  She craved the fullness as the fingers stroked her inside and out, her body a tightly strung instrument.  She felt herself explode, sending stars falling behind her eyes…

Braxton gasped, her hips arching off the bed, fingers clawing at the bedding beneath her.  Her eyes opened as her body continued to pulse, heart beginning to slow.  “Jesus,” she whispered, running her hands over her sweat-slicked face. 

Looking around, she was disoriented for a moment, then realized she was still in Becca’s room, in her bed.  The room was empty, the light still blazing overhead.  She took a shuddering breath then moved off the bed and towards her own room, snapping off the light and closing the door.


Carrie whimpered as she was pushed to the edge with one more thrust, her head nearly pounding into the wall behind her.  She came with a huge cry, her entire body nearly bucking off the tabletop.

Becca panted over her, her own body crackling with the joy of release, though this joy was empty.  Purely physical.  Her heart was far, far away.  She quickly pushed herself away from the petit woman, disgusted with herself as she grabbed her jeans and tugged them on.

“That was so good,” Carrie panted, pushing up to her elbows.  She looked at Becca, whose back was presented to her.  “What brought that on?”  When Becca still didn’t answer, Carrie sat up, running a hand through her shaggy hair.  “You okay?”

“Yeah.  I’m fine.”  Becca said coolly.  She tugged her shirt over her head.  “Come on.  Let’s go.”

Carrie slid off the table, her former bliss turning to dread.  She quickly dressed, watching as Becca headed out into the main room of the tattoo shop, leaving her to get herself together in one of the back tattoo rooms. 

Becca wanted to leave.  She stared out the glass in the door, and wanted nothing more than to run out into the night, howling at the moon.  Instead, she stayed where she was, waiting for Carrie to join her so she could drop off the brunette at home, and then go prowling into the night.  Or maybe she should just go to bed.

“I’m ready,” Carrie said quietly, stepping up behind Becca, but stopping just before she actually made contact with her.  She sensed it would not be a good idea.  When Becca said nothing, nor made any move to go, Carrie sighed.  “I’m not the one you really wanted to fuck tonight, am I?”

Becca wasn’t entirely surprised by the words, but she did have a question.  “Knowing that, why did you let me?”  She turned and met Carrie’s dark eyes over her shoulder. 

“I guess because I wanted you to.”  She shrugged, hugging her jacket around herself. 

“Look, Carrie, I don’t want this to interfere-“

“We fucked, Becca.  You didn’t promise me marriage.”

Becca nodded her approval.  “Let’s go, then.”


Braxton sat in the armchair, her head leaning against the window, staring out into the night.  She watched the street, only a car passing now and then.  All in all, it was quiet.  A pair of headlights emerged from the shadows, followed by Becca’s van.  She watched it pull up to the curb, then stop with the squeal of squeaky breaks. 

Relief washed over her until she saw the passenger door open, and Carrie hop out.  She leaned into the window of the closed door, obviously exchanging words with Becca before she turned away from the van, just as it pulled away from the curb, and back out into the night.  Braxton watched it go, somewhere in the distance hearing the front door open then close, locks engaged. 

Braxton felt a near rage wash over her at the thought of Carrie laying one hand on Becca.  Her heart broke at the thought of Becca touching Carrie. 


Slowly green eyes opened, Braxton not sure what woke her.  As reality gathered around her, she felt the soft touch against her face.  Blinking a few times, she turned onto her back, looking up at Becca, who sat on the edge of her bed.

“Hey,” she said, leaning slightly into the touch.

“Sorry to wake you,” Becca whispered, not wanting to shatter the pre-dawn quiet. 

“What’s the matter?  You look like you haven’t slept.  What time is it?”  Braxton got more comfortable, catching the fingers that fell from her face, and holding them in her own against her upper chest. 

“It’s late.  Or early, I guess.  Depending.  I’m okay, just couldn’t sleep.  Drove around for awhile.”  She sighed, her body feeling heavy and tired.  “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay.  Here, lay down.”  Through Braxton knew it was dangerous, she scooted over, making room.  She heard Becca slip off her shoes, then she climbed under the covers.  Braxton immediately moved into her arms, resting her head on Becca’s shoulder.  “I’m sorry about earlier, Becca.  I just…”  Her voice trailed off, not sure what to say.

“I know.  It’s okay.”  Becca placed a soft kiss on Braxton’s forehead.  “That’s kind of what I want to talk to you about.  I’ve decided to leave, Braxton.”

Braxton went to raise her head, but it was kept against Becca’s shoulder with a gentle hand.  She snuggled in closer, though she felt chips of ice begin to float in her blood.  “Why?”

“A few reasons.”  She began to comb her fingers through Braxton’s hair.  “Talking to y nephew, it made me realize how much I miss my family.  I haven’t seen any of them in over four years.  Almost five.”  She got silent for a moment as she remembered all of their faces, her brothers and her parents.  She remembered her  mother crying as Becca had been led out of the courtroom. 

“I’m sure  they’ll be happy to have you back, Becca,” Braxton said softly, her heart breaking.

“There’s another reason for me to go,” Becca said at length, unsure if she should say it or not.  She decided Braxton deserved to hear the truth.  “I think it’s best I get away from you.”  This time she couldn’t keep the blonde against her.

Braxton sat up, looking down at the prone woman.  “What?”

Becca sat up and faced her.  “Braxton, I can’t keep my hands off you.  Or my mind.  Or certain body parts,” she explained.  “I’m not ready for this, and I really don’t think you are, either.  If you want anything.  Me.”  She watched her hands as they played with the blanket that was around her waist.  “I can’t have any complications in my life right now.”  She spared a glance at the blonde, who looked terribly hurt.  Becca looked away, glad to take the blame upon herself.  “I think it’s best.”

Braxton wasn’t sure what to say, wasn’t sure what to feel.  She knew her hurt was ridiculous, as even she knew she wasn’t ready for anything with Becca.  Hell, she could barely even get through a single groping session without freaking out.  Then there was NYU.  “I’m sure you’re right,” she said after awhile, her voice tired and defeated.  “I was asked by one of my professors to join a program to further my education.”  She met Becca’s gaze.  “It’s in New York.”

Becca felt the breath leave her body, but she covered it with a smile.  “That’s great, Braxton.  I’m proud of you.  I know you’ll be successful in whatever you do.”  She swallowed.  Hard.  “When would you leave?”

“December.  It’s a three year program.”

Becca nodded.  “It’s for the best, then,” she whispered.  Looking into Braxton’s eyes, she couldn’t help but feel like she was looking at her future, which was ridiculous.  She didn’t know Braxton well enough to feel that way.  She wasn’t even convinced the blonde could ever love her in the way she needed her to.

“When are you leaving?”

Becca blew out a breath and began to move toward the edge of the bed. “Soon.  Very soon.  I’m paid up for the next two months here, so you guys will be fine.”

“I’m not worried about the rent, Becca.  I’m worried about you.  God, I’ll miss you.”

Becca smiled, reaching over and was about to caress the side of Braxton’s face, but let her hand drop.  “I’ll miss you, too.  I really do think it’s best.”

Braxton sighed heavily,  nodding.  “I’m sure you’re right.”  Her head agreed, but her heart was crying out, No!  She panicked when Becca started to stand.  “Don’t leave!”  She immediately felt silly from the desperation in her voice.  Becca stopped and looked down at her.  “At least not tonight.  Please?”

Unable to resist the blonde, Becca nodded solemnly, feeling almost as though she’d just agreed to execution rather than imprisonment.  She lay back down, taking Braxton in her arms. 

Braxton was always amazed at how well her body fit with Becca’s, and how soft the taller woman was.  How wonderful she smelled.  She buried her face in the warm skin of her neck and inhaled, taking it all in, one last time.  “You smell so good,” she whispered. 

Becca’s eyes closed, her lips clamping down on a sigh.  She could feel Braxton nuzzling her neck, which set her heart pounding again.  God, not again…  “Braxton,” she breathed, gasping when she felt a kiss placed at the hollow of her throat. 

“I don’t want you to go,” Braxton said against the skin of Becca’s neck.  “Don’t go tonight.  I’m going to miss you.”  She moved on top of Becca, hugging her tightly around the neck.  She was feeling the loss already, and it hit her in the soul.  She felt Becca’s arms wrap around her and they held each other. 

Becca didn’t dare move, almost didn’t breathe.  She was afraid that Braxton would disappear if she did.  She could feel Braxton’s body all along her length; there wasn’t one part of them that wasn’t touching.  She ran her hands all over the blonde’s back in large, soothing circles.

“Am I too heavy?” Braxton murmured against Becca’s neck.

Becca shook her head with a sigh.  “No.  I like you here.  You’re so warm and soft.”  Why couldn’t I meet you five years from now?  Becca felt Braxton move, and found herself suddenly looking into the blonde’s face.  She reached up, brushing blonde strands out of her eyes.  She felt such a connection to Braxton, and had since the moment they’d met.

Braxton rested her weight on an elbow, her other hand free to wander and feel.  She used her fingertips to trace Becca’s features.  She was so beautiful, and had to tell the taller woman such.  “I’ve never seen anyone so striking,” she whispered, looking into the blue eyes, turned nearly translucent in the darkness.

Becca couldn’t speak.  She felt like what a cat or dog must feel like as it’s master murmured sweet words.  Her mind no longer worked, unable to decipher the meaning.  All she could do was look up at Braxton with absolute adoration, soaking in the tone of her voice.  She felt the cool touch of fingers brush across her cheek and jaw, her hair brushed back.  Becca’s own hands ran up Braxton’s back, curving along the line of her shoulders before working their way back down. 

Braxton leaned down, placing a soft kiss on Becca’s forehead, the taller woman’s eyes closing with the gesture.  Next, she placed gentle kisses on her cheeks, tip of her nose, chin, and finally her lips.  The kiss was gentle, almost chaste, but soon became exploratory. 

Becca started, putting her hands on the smaller woman’s shoulders, pushing gently.  Braxton broke the kiss, resting on both elbows as she looked down at her, a question in her eyes.  “What are you doing, Braxton?” she asked softly.

What indeed?  Braxton looked into Becca’s eyes, and all she could think of was that she wanted nothing more than to be with her right now.  She knew it was goodbye, somewhere inside the deepest recesses of her soul, she knew.  “I don’t know,” she said honestly.  “But I can’t stop.”

“I won’t be able to, Braxton.  Please, don’t make me stop again.”  Becca’s words almost came out in a whimper.  She knew her body couldn’t stand for release at Braxton’s hands to elude it again, and there was no way in hell she was going to hunt down Carrie again.

Braxton felt almost possessed, her need so deep she knew there would be no stopping.  Not tonight.  Earlier fear forgotten, she leaned down again, pressing her lips to Becca’s, using her tongue to gently part the taller woman’s lips.  They both moaned softly as their tongues brushed, a slow dance as Becca buried her fingers into blonde hair, holding Braxton to her.  The kiss broke again.

“Are you sure about this?” Becca panted.  Her answer was Braxton pushing up to her knees and tugging her own t-shirt over her head, tossing it off into the darkness.  Becca, stunned, looked up at the goddess who straddled her hips.  She sat up, running her hands up and down Braxton’s naked back, groaning at the softness of the skin.  “My god,” she whispered.

Braxton sighed into the contact, her fear and trepidation pushed aside.  She found Becca’s mouth again, her hands blindly reaching for the hem of the taller woman’s shirt, their kiss breaking only long enough for the shirt to clear Becca’s head.  “Oh god,” Braxton cried as their breasts pressed together.  She’d never felt anything so exquisite.  Her head fell back as Becca’s mouth explored her neck, a hot tongue licking a trail of fire down her throat.  She buried her hands in the long strands of Becca’s hair, holding her head to her as the mouth explored lower. 

She shut her mind off, allowing sensation and physical need to rule this day.  A whimper escaped as the hot tongue swiped over one of her nipples, sending a jolt of wet heat between her legs.  Before she even realized what she was doing, her hips were rocking slowly against Becca’s, her sex needing purchase on something, anything.

Becca pushed Braxton back until she was lying on her back, head at the foot of the bed.  She laid herself between the blonde’s spread thighs, reaching down with one hand to worm its way between Braxton’s shorts-clad ass and the mattress, holding the blonde to her.

Braxton cried out, the pressure of Becca’s denim crotch pressing into her made her legs open wider, needing the contact.  She felt so heavy and ached so badly, she thought she’d explode within moments.  Instead, she reached down, tugging frantically at Becca’s jeans.

Becca got the idea, pushing herself up just long enough to remove her pants and underwear, pulling Braxton’s shorts down at the same time.  Naked, they lay pressed together, Becca finding the blonde’s mouth again.  She snacked her fingers between their bodies, finding the drenched folds of Braxton’s sex.  She straddled one of Braxton’s thighs with her own need as she pressed inside with two fingers.

Braxton’s world became centered around those two fingers, her hips arching up to meet them.  Becca’s thrusts inside her body, and on her leg, were quick, borne of neglected need.  It didn’t take long for the orgasm to build to a dangerous level.

“Oh, god,” Becca groaned, her hips working in quick, short thrusts against Braxton.  “Gonna come…”

Braxton was too far gone to respond, her body exploding, her arms tightening around Becca, holding her close as she buried her face in the taller woman’s neck, her screams muffled.

Becca held her breath, eyes squeezing tight as she came hard, the bed shuddering beneath her convulsing body.  They clung to each other as they came down, silence filling the room.  Becca got them turned around so their heads found the pillows, and Braxton held in her arms, fell asleep.


Braxton turned over onto her stomach, blindly reaching down for the covers when she realized she was cold.  She also realized she was naked, and then memory of just why she was naked came back to her.

Lifting her head, she blinked at the insistent sun shining in through the window.  She was alone in the room, the pillow next to hers fluffy and cold.  A surge of panic truck as the events of the night before paraded through her mind.  She quickly climbed out of bed and dressed.  Her bedroom door was closed, and all was quiet beyond.  The bedside clock had told her it was past ten in the morning. 

The hallway was empty, the door to the bathroom across the hall open, the room beyond dark.  She turned to the right to see that Becca’s bedroom door was also open, though light from the open window shades threw light onto the hallway carpet. 

Padding out into the hall, Braxton swallowed hard.  “Becca?” she called softly, walking the short distance to her roommate’s bedroom.  The bedroom was empty.  The bed had been stripped to the mattress.  Bookcases were still there, though the books were gone.  The hanging photographs were gone.  Anything personal was gone.

Braxton walked further into the room, turning in a slow circle as her hands clutched at her suddenly-nauseous stomach.  Finally she ended up sitting on her butt at the center of the room, feeling numb.  She wasn’t sure how long she sat there when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs.  Her disappointment was profound when Jared popped his head through the door. 

“Whoa,” he said, eyes huge.  “Where did Becca go?”

“Home,” Braxton said softly.  She felt the tears coming, hard and swift.  Within a heartbeat, her best friend was kneeling next to her.  She cried in his arms, though could not answer his questions.  All she could do was cry and think that one more person in her life had been taken from her.


Barbara came by to collect Becca’s furniture over the course of the following week.  Braxton made herself scarce, not wanting to see the last vestiges of Becca go.  Besides, she had to study hard for the last semester she’d be at the university.  She’d been accepted to NYU’s art program.  She turned her focus to that goal, and her new life, which would begin soon.  She’d make sure she came back for her mother’s court dates in late winter.

She avoided Carrie, for some reason unable to forgive the smaller woman, which was crazy, she knew.  Systematically, Braxton began to push people out of her life one by one.  She told herself it was because she had other things to focus on, but when it boiled down to it, it was because it hurt less, somehow.  She could leave with an open heart, no loose ends or emotions, which were messy.

The day came when she packed up the sedan, taking only her clothing and personal things, having sold everything else.  She would be moving into an apartment with another girl also in the art program, and the place was fully furnished.  Life would go on, no matter how badly her heart hurt.  There wasn’t a day that went by that she didn’t think about or miss Becca.  It had been through sheer willpower that she hadn’t gone down to the big, blonde woman’s shop and ask about her.  Becca hadn’t called, hadn’t sent an email, and sent a smoke signal.  It was almost as though she’d never exited at all.  Or, perhaps she only existed in Braxton’s dreams. 

Car loaded up and ready to go, Braxton headed toward HWY 50, which would lead her out of the state and on her way east.  She didn’t notice the white van that was parked at Dunkin’ Donuts on the way out of town, nor did she notice the driver who sat crying behind the wheel.


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