chapter 3

Lillian pushed openthe door to her hotel room, admiring the curves of Blue’s body. She looked strong and soft, her body feminine, her posture touched by a masculine energy, like the swagger of a young man who still thought the world would hand him everything. Sexier than the small, impossibly muscular dancers Lillian usually slept with.

A single table lamp cast the room in a soft glow. They paused in the center of the room. Blue stroked her fingers down the arm of Lillian’s white suit jacket.

“Shooting stars,” Blue said thoughtfully. “Like a sand painting. It’s beautiful and then it’s gone. Don’t worry.” Blue kissed her, nipping at her lip and sending exquisite shivers up Lillian’s legs and between them. “You’re gorgeous, but I’m not falling in love.”

With that Lillian put her leg between Blue’s and, holding Blue so she wouldn’t trip, spun her around to push her against the wall.

Except she didn’t push Blue against the wall.

At the same moment, Blue spun her around. Or tried. They collided in an awkward half turn, Blue’s body soft against Lillian’s. Her breath smelled pleasantly of cinnamon, like that old-fashioned gum trendy candy stores sold as retro. They laughed. Lillian brushed her lips against Blue’s, then kissed Blue’s neck, then ran the edge of her teeth along Blue’s earlobe. She felt Blue’s body tense and then relax.

“After tonight you’ll—” Lillian whispered.

At the same moment Blue whispered, “I’m going to—”

Blue pulled back, her arms looped around Lillian’s waist.

Lillian laughed. “How were you going to finish that sentence. I’m going to…?”

Blue studied her, pulling their hips closer together casually, as though the press of their bodies didn’t make Lillian ache like a new flower pushing at the sepal that held it closed.

“Give you everything you’ve ever wanted?” Blue offered, in her sultry voice.

It did sound like her Sultry Voice, and it still turned Lillian on.

“How do you know you’re not getting in too deep?” Lillian asked. “What if I want something bizarre?” Lillian gave Blue a quick peck on the lips to show that she was teasing.

Blue relaxed with a dramatic sigh.

“I can’t say, I’m going to give you the best semi-anonymous sex you can have with someone who doesn’t know anything about your body.”

“That does ruin the mood,” Lillian said, pulling Blue’s sweatshirt off her shoulders.

“Does it really?” Blue asked, her voice rough.

“No.”

“And how were you going to finish after tonight you’ll…?” Blue asked.

“I don’t know,” Lillian murmured. “You’ll be ruined for all others?”

“You wouldn’t do that to me.”

“I’ll try.”

Lillian gently bit Blue’s jaw, just beneath her ear. Blue moaned. The sound made Lillian want to carry her to the bed and grind against her until the frustration of rehearsing with her dancers in a too-small hotel room, then parading themselves in front of the corporate judges, washed away. A dam breaking. She wanted Blue. How long had it been since she’d wanted a woman enough to be satisfied by sex? Really satisfied? She took lovers back to her hotel rooms, vaguely horny but never horny enough to find that shattering moment of relief. It would be different tonight. And if she could replace the cocky smile on Blue’s lips with a face of ecstasy, Lillian would remember that instant for a long time.

Lillian trailed her fingers down Blue’s chest, tracing the binary code tattoo.

“So who gets to lead this dance?” Blue murmured.

Lillian was always in control. In bed. Onstage.

“You did so well at the bar,” Lillian said. “I’ll let you lead.”

A good lead knew how to be in charge without being controlling. Blue drew her to the wall and pressed her against it.

“You know that’s my move,” Lillian murmured.

“Is it really?” Blue shifted so her thigh was between her legs. The weight of Blue’s body and hardness of the wall and the delicious pressure made Lillian groan.

Slowly Blue undid the first button of Lillian’s blouse and then the next. Then Blue kissed her, forcefully but languidly, fondling Lillian’s breast, rocking into Lillian, the rhythm burning like a spotlight off center, illuminating but not reaching the dancer.

It was extravagant and excruciating and wonderful.

Blue ran her hand between Lillian’s legs, along the seam of Lillian’s pants.

“Harder?”

Lillian pressed the back of her head against the wall, sinking her hips lower to chase Blue’s touch.

“You tease,” Lillian murmured.

“Harder?” Blue asked again.

Blue intensified the pressure of her fingers.

“Yes,” Lillian growled.

Lillian countered Blue’s touch, running her hand up Blue’s thigh.

“Show me,” Blue said.

Lillian felt like she was touching herself, because Blue copied her every movement, and she copied Blue’s, and Blue groaned, and the sound undid Lillian. A moment later, Lillian was naked and Blue was naked except for a pair of silky boy shorts. Blue threw back the covers on the bed.

Blue fulfilled her promise. It was the best hookup sex Lillian had ever had. Blue eased her fingers into Lillian’s body, asking, “More? Too much?” She filled Lillian to the point of erotic pain but not a second over into discomfort, like a dancer who knew just how far to reach without losing her balance. Just the way Lillian liked it. Lillian let herself go breathless, although, of course, she was a dancer. She could control every fiber of her body. Blue lifted her higher and higher. Then Blue held the flat of her fingers against Lillian’s clit, drawing Lillian’s hand to hers so Lillian could guide her and thrust against her. And Lillian was over the edge, her orgasm washing away the stress of worrying about the company and the frustration of wanting this intensity and never finding it with her lovers.

She let herself cry, “Oh God. Oh God.”

Then she came back to herself. Blue grinned and then licked her own fingertips, then kissed Lillian. Was this Blue’s cocky persona or the real woman with humor dancing behind her eyes? It didn’t matter. That was the beauty of a single night. You didn’t have to find out.

Blue pulled off her underwear and straddled Lillian’s leg. Lillian urged Blue on with her hands on Blue’s hips. A second later Blue shuddered, then collapsed. She lay on Lillian for just a moment, then rolled off, lying flat on her back.

Lillian propped herself up on one elbow and studied Blue. Except for her tattoo, she was as pale as the moon and their bodies looked beautiful together, pure cacao and sweet cream. Lillian reached to touch her, but Blue was already rolling away.

“No cuddling.” Blue hopped up. She blew Lillian a flashy kiss, like a drag queen’s adieu to her audience. “See you around, gorgeous.”

That was it. That was exactly what Lillian had asked for. No cuddling. No scones. Blue dressed in a flash, took in Lillian’s nakedness with a hungry look, and pushed the door open. Then she was gone.

Lillian rose, naked, her body still alive with Blue’s touch, and dug through the packing cubes in her suitcase to find her sketchbook in which she’d drawn dancers in minute variations of every ballet position. If you could animate them somehow, compose choreography with images instead of Benesh Movement Notation, which most dancers found so hard to decipher. If she could put them together in an app. Ha! When and how would she make an app? Drawing was a useless hobby. When you were in professional ballet, all hobbies were useless. Her mother had taught her that. She took her sketchbook and sat down at the small table, still naked. An hour had passed before she looked up from her drawing of Blue’s curvy body lying languid in messy sheets, very different from the lean, precise figures on the other pages. She couldn’t get Blue right though. Blue hadn’t lounged in Lillian’s bed. She’d come and gone so quickly she could have been a dream.