5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Rosalie shook her head, ruefully. There was a lovely quiet evening waiting for her at home, away from the hoards of Nashville and the crowded Friday night bars. There was really no reason she should be letting this young woman lead her down the darkened street, like she was the one showing Rosalie through her own damn hometown. She wasn't quite sure what had gotten into her. The word was no , it was really all she needed to say, but for some inexplicable reason, here she was.

She'd stay for a song or two, make Kinsey feel like she'd been seen up on stage, like she clearly wanted to be, then she'd fade off into the crowd and back to her life, no harm done. Rosalie was flattered, that was all. Kinsey was stunning; legions of people probably fell at her feet every day, and yet she kept looking at Rosalie like she was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen. It was a move, that was all; Rosalie was under no illusion as she glanced down at herself in her boring office attire. She had to admit though, that it felt exciting to feel the desire in those confident bedroom eyes, aimed squarely at her.

Twenty-six. Rosalie almost laughed. She remembered being that age. She'd been confident about everything back then too. Probably not Kinsey-level confident, though, asking Rosalie out with every expectation that she'd say yes, despite all the reasons why she shouldn't.

Somewhat embarrassingly, Rosalie had been attracted the very moment she'd laid eyes on Kinsey. Probably very few people wouldn't be, she consoled herself. She was only human after all. Those eyes, that hair, that body… Rosalie quickly dragged her eyes away, but Kinsey had already caught her look, her smirk across the darkened sidewalk clearly telegraphing I know you want me.

Shit. She really should just go home. But just like that they were at the venue, Howler - of course, how stupidly cool - Kinsey not only opening the door for her, but lightly touching her fingers to the small of Rosalie's back as she entered, making her swallow, hard. Kinsey guided her to a small high table with a couple of bar stools.

"I've gotta go," she said, as soon as Rosalie sat. "But I swear I won't be long. And," she took a small step closer, a faint hint of warm perfume hitting Rosalies's senses, "I think you should stay." Without waiting for an answer, she waved down a waiter, who unsurprisingly changed direction toward her immediately, arriving at the table probably disappointed to take Rosalie's drink order while Kinsey disappeared into the crowd.

A few minutes later, as Rosalie sipped on a riesling, the band took the stage. The lead singer was tall and voluptuous, the rest of the band nondescript, except for Kinsey, an electric bass in her hands. The first song started, the woman's voice warm and sensual, the beat seductive, and Kinsey who was both powering the rhythm section and singing back-up, straight up smoldered. Rosalie swallowed, her legs crossing tightly on her bar stool. She let out a small laugh at herself. Honestly, she rolled her eyes, tonight she kept acting like a wide-eyed teenage girl rather than a grown woman who absolutely knew better. Somehow though, her plan to slip out the door never quite seemed to happen.

"You stayed." Kinsey's dark eyes sparkled, when she returned to Rosalie's table, sweat glistening on her skin after her set. She still wore her stage outfit, her long sleeved shirt shed in favor of a small black spaghetti strap tank top above her snugly fitted black jeans. Muscle sculpted her narrow shoulders, sleek biceps flexing as she rested her hands on her lovely hips. Rosalie couldn't seem to stop making dubious choices.

"I did," she admitted, both of them knowing she was admitting much more than just wanting to finish her glass of wine. Kinsey looked beyond pleased with herself as she took the seat opposite her. The table was small, and their knees touched as she got into place. Rosalie moved hers out of the way.

"You're good," Rosalie said, meaning the stage performance.

"I am," Kinsey agreed, her eyes still smug at successfully keeping Rosalie pinned to her chair and Rosalie's breath escaped in a small laugh.

"You're extremely confident." Rosalie gave up and let herself stare at the lovely face across from her.

Kinsey smiled."You're extremely attractive," she said.

"And you're too young."

"And yet, here you are." She had Rosalie there. Rosalie opened her mouth, then closed it again. She took a sip of her wine and Kinsey looked victorious. "I think you'll find I'm very much an adult woman," she said, her tone low, and Rosalie felt a tingle in her spine. She failed to have an argument to that.

Kinsey hadn't even tried to flag down a waiter and yet one appeared anyway. Before long they both were sipping wine, their eyes meeting.

"So music is your thing?" Rosalie asked. It was the only thing she knew about Kinsey, aside from a friendship with Lane and she absolutely did not want to go there.

"It is," Kinsey agreed. She told Rosalie about graduating Julliard, about the various instruments she played, that she played for a variety of bands but there was only one she was really invested in.

"How long have you been at the center?" Kinsey asked, shifting the conversation off herself.

"Thirteen years," Rosalie said, trying not to add since around the time you started high school, though part of her definitely thought that as the words came out.

"That's a long time in non-profit land," said Kinsey. At Rosalie's confused frown, she smiled. "I had a lot of jobs in college and just after," she clarified. "I had big ideas about changing the world, but it was mostly just soul-destroying."

Rosalie nodded and took a long sip of wine. "It can be. The center's kind of different though. I created it, along with my best friend who bankrolls it, so it works the way we think it should work."

"God," said Kinsey. "You're so sexy." Rosalie snorted out a laugh of surprise, very unsexily, but Kinsey just smiled. "I'm serious. You built your own successful non-profit, and it's for queer kids. Socially conscious, a boss and a business woman. And," she ran her eyes boldly down Rosalie's body, "you look like that."

Rosalie felt slightly sweaty all of a sudden. She liked a little too much the version of herself that Kinsey was clearly seeing.

"You," she rebutted, "are a little too charming."

"Who's Rachel?"

Rosalie went still.

"I'm sorry?"

"The Rachel Carlson Centre," Kinsey clarified.

"She was my sister," Rosalie said. She looked up at Kinsey, knowing there would be more questions and deciding she definitely didn't want there to be. "Do you want to dance?"

Kinsey tilted her head, considering her. The next band on the stage had begun their set and they were good. Really good. Rosalie had had all of one and a half glasses of wine, a very hot person was flirting with her, and for the first time in a long time, she really wanted to disappear into a sweaty crowd and lose herself there.

"Do I want to dance with you?" Kinsey looked like someone had just handed her a winning lottery ticket. "Yeah, I really do."

Her hand came down on Rosalie's spine again as she pressed into the crowd, and somewhere in the middle of the dance floor, as more people flooded in - to stand and nod, or jump up and down or fling their bodies in time to the music - Rosalie closed her eyes and let the music flow through her, dragging her away from her old memories, to this moment, right here. She began to move.

Kinsey moved too. Where she didn't move, was away. The crowd was dense, but not so packed that Kinsey necessarily had to be pressed up against her and yet, there she was. Rosalie let go. She stopped thinking about Republicans, about work on Monday, about letting her friends down. She stopped thinking about age gaps, or what she should or shouldn't do. She let herself feel the music and the heat of Kinsey's stupidly attractive body and the even hotter heat of her gaze and just danced.

It had been a long damn time. Rosalie didn't do this kind of thing, not anymore. She was perpetually single, perpetually busy, even sex had fallen off her radar far too long ago. This kind of behavior wasn't her, and yet somehow, tonight, she just couldn't quite make herself pull away.

The crowd kept packing in, rowdy now, an occasional sway through the audience tipping everyone into each other. The second time it happened, Kinsey was pushed behind her. All of a sudden her arms came down, around Rosalie's waist, wrapping tight and holding her against the ripple of the crowd. When the pushing stopped, she didn't let go. This definitely was the moment Rosalie should use that no word and stop encouraging Kinsey, but it just felt so good, the heat of her, the protective stance, the press of her front against Rosalie's back, the slight whisper of her exhalation just above her left ear.

She didn't say no. Then, very deliberately, right there in the crowd, Kinsey tugged Rosalie's shirt slightly loose and used the gap she'd created to slip her fingers inside, gently tracing over bare skin. When Rosalie still , somehow, could not make herself say no, Kinsey's fingers slipped deliberately higher, lightly stroking along the curve of her waist, trailing along soft sensitive skin. Every single part of Rosalie turned hot and hazy.

They stood there in the crowd through one whole song, Kinsey nodding to the beat as though nothing were amiss, but her fingers kept moving, caressing. Slowly they slipped across to her abdomen, very lightly stroking just above the waistband of her skirt. Rosalie's entire body seemed to have caught fire. How the building sprinklers weren't going off, how everyone in the crowd wasn't staring at her she had no idea.

" Rosalie, " Kinsey's voice murmured finally in her ear, softly, like she was praying or begging or perhaps in as much fiery pain as Rosalie suddenly was. She pulled aside, just enough to meet Rosalie's gaze and the heated hunger in those dark eyes made her lips part with want. As if Kinsey had asked and Rosalie had answered, Kinsey took her hand and pulled her urgently behind her through the crowd.

Some distant part of her realized Kinsey was about to try to take her home and she knew that was a seriously bad idea - despite the sudden slickness she could feel as she walked - and she was just about to protest, when Kinsey tugged her to the front of the room instead of the door, just adjacent to the stage. Kinsey turned and looked at her again, and whatever she saw in Rosalie's eyes made her bite her plump lower lip in invitation. Then with a flick of her hand she tugged back the black curtain lining the wall and pulled Rosalie through it with her.

Rosalie looked around, surprised. There was a narrow space, not quite a corridor, running between the stage to their left, and whatever main exit there was to the right. The stage lighting spilled into the room, red, then purple, then red again. The music was slightly muted and the crowd only a step beyond the thin curtain.

" Rosalie, " Kinsey said again, her voice soft and desperate and suddenly Rosalie only cared that it was private. Her eyes flashed the very solid yes she was feeling and Kinsey very slowly and very deliberately pressed her up against the wall. A whimper escaped Rosalie as the younger woman used one finger to tip up her chin and kiss her.

Oh god, Kinsey was good at this. Her lips were soft but determined and it was Rosalie who lost control first, slipping her tongue into Kinsey's hot mouth. They made out hungrily, a mutual push and pull, Rosalie not caring about anything other than the press of that delicious firm body against her own.

Kinsey didn't rush. It wasn't fast and furious, but her fingers were insistent and controlled as she pulled back, looking Rosalie in the eye, tugging the buttons to her shirt open one by one, daring her to stop her. This was ridiculous, the crowd were right there - there was nothing but a curtain to hide them - but the heat in Kinsey's eyes kept her pinned, until her shirt fell all the way open, her bra exposed. Kinsey inhaled hard, staring at Rosalie's body like it was the hottest porn she'd ever seen.

Rosalie glanced down at her own breasts, voluptuous for sure, spilling up slightly from the lace of the bra encasing them, her curves lit up in the red light and thought, you know what, they are pretty fucking great . Her eyes met Kinsey's and the younger woman reached out and deliberately tugged the front of the bra down. The cups of Rosalie's bra pushed her breasts up from underneath, like she was being presented on a platter purely for Kinsey's viewing pleasure.

Rosalie gasped. The line that was getting crossed here if someone else came through that curtain was getting pretty damn severe.

"God, look at you," Kinsey murmured, just above the throb of the music, her gaze hungry and focused. "You're so hot with your tits out, wanting to get touched."

Rosalie's vision went hazy. Of course Kinsey would have her dirty talk down pat. Her back arched almost as though her body was acting on command, completely divorced from any kind of rational brain. Kinsey's mouth was on her before she could blink, swirling her tongue across heated curves, lips, hot mouth, careful teeth, skilfully tormenting her sensitive nipples. The sounds that escaped her were shocked: shocked that this was happening, shocked that she was letting it, shocked that the chance of exposure was so high and yet still not enough to stop her. Shocked that it was so. Fucking. Good.

"Jesus, Rosalie, you're making me need to fuck you when you make sounds like that," Kinsey pulled back to murmur heatedly in her ear. "I'm going to have to fuck you right here , you know that right?"

She was already pulling up the hem of Rosalie's skirt, tugging it right up above her hips, baring her panties and Rosalie had to say no . This was sex in public, this was probably laws being broken, but Kinsey ran one finger over the lace that covered her and Rosalie was already lost, a whine choking out her throat at the tease.

"You're so bad letting me do this to you," Kinsey whispered, her tongue slipping into her ear, her finger teasing again through the lace and Rosalie felt it, from somewhere dormant inside her, the woman she'd once been, the things she'd once done.

"Are you all talk?" she asked softly, drawing back to meet Kinsey's eyes. "Or are you going to be able to make me come?"

Kinsey's breath escaped in a hiss. She tugged Rosalie's panties down, not a little way, but all the way to her knees. She grabbed Rosalie's chin to hold her gaze as she slipped her other hand between her thighs, both of them gasping in unison as she discovered the desperate wetness she'd created there.

"Oh fuck, Rosalie, " she didn't look away, even as Rosalie's head fell back against the wall at the sensation. Slow fingers explored her wet folds, those eyes on her face watching hungrily as she surrendered entirely to Kinsey's confident touch.

"This is what happens when you try to resist me," Kinsey told her. "You're so wet, and it's all for me."

Rosalie could hardly breathe as Kinsey's fingers worked her up even higher, the tension building in her body, ratcheting to almost breaking point as Kinsey's mouth returned to her breasts, licking and sucking and biting as her fingers skillfully swirled.

"Am I going to be able to make you come?" Kinsey's voice was amused as she pulled back. "What a question. Are you going to be able to stop yourself from coming?"

Her fingers stopped, right when Rosalie was almost on the precipice and that needy whine escaped her again at the torment. Kinsey's lips smirked at Rosalie's clear desperation. Then, her wrist curled and she pushed three fingers all the way inside her body.

The sound that escaped Rosalie made Kinsey's eyes flash victoriously, and she began to thrust deeply, Rosalie's hips jolting up fast and hungry to meet her. Kinsey didn't let up, those slender muscles clearly not just for show. The heavy ache inside Rosalie grew in intensity until she was gasping for every breath.

"Kinsey," she begged. " Kinsey-"

"Yeah that's what I've been waiting for," Kinsey panted as she thrust harder, "ever since I first laid eyes on you. You crying out my name with my fingers deep inside you. You need it so bad, don't you honey?" Her left hand was suddenly there, pressing against Rosalie insistently, nudging and slipping right there , while her right drove deeply inside her, thrusting somewhere that felt desperately right.

"Oh god," Rosalie choked out, before every single part of her body went taut.

"You can come now," Kinsey told her, almost matter of factly, and Rosalie came apart . The deep pressure inside her set off some kind of chain reaction through her entire body, muscles clenching, a spasm that seemed to shake her from her thighs to her toes, her back arching, her nipples tightening. A savage cry escaped her as she clenched down on Kinsey's fingers. Her own hands gripped Kinsey's hips to stop herself collapsing, her vision temporarily squeezing to black as bolts of pleasure raced through what felt like every damn nerve in her body.

"Oh god," she just barely managed again, as she went limp against the wall. Kinsey was breathing hard, her eyes dark.

"Oh Rosalie," she murmured, "you're going to ruin me, letting me see you come like that."

She slowly pulled her fingers out and Rosalie gasped, adjusting to the loss, then almost stopped breathing altogether as Kinsey slipped the three fingers into her mouth and slowly sucked the wetness from them.

"You're so fucking sweet," Kinsey murmured, then kissed her with her taste on her tongue.

It took a full minute for Rosalie to get ahold of herself, trembling against Kinsey, with her panties around her knees. She managed to push herself back off the wall eventually and fixed her bra, then her ruined panties, then her crumpled skirt. Kinsey didn't help, rather she stood close and watched, her gaze both heated and amused. Rosalie narrowed her eyes as she buttoned up her shirt.

"You don't have to be so smug," she said and Kinsey laughed.

"Oh, but I am," she said, her eyes lighting up.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Rosalie heard herself ask.

"You know," said Kinsey. "I do."