Chapter 21

twenty-one

This was so much better than their first kiss.

Regan hadn't thought anything would have been able to top that one, but this one did. By leaps and bounds.

For so many reasons.

Because they were standing, and their entire bodies were pressed against each other. Regan strained up, aching to be as close as possible. They were as close as possible, and it didn't feel like enough. She felt the buttons on Emma's shirt – the blouse she'd worn to work – press into her stomach so closely, she knew they would leave an imprint, and it still wasn't enough.

She slid her tongue along Emma's, every nerve ending in her body feeling like it was fucking singing. Because she could taste Emma, really taste her this time. She could feel the way Emma's tongue toyed with her own, and god , Emma was a good fucking kisser.

She hadn't really been able to definitively know that, from their first kiss. It had been so short, so simple. But she knew, now.

And it only served to raise the already scorching levels of heat surging through Regan's body.

She carded the fingers of her free hand through Emma's hair, reveling in how soft it was. How it was long enough to grab such a good fistful of – which she did – and Emma groaned sharply into her mouth.

Emma's fingers scratched down Regan's back, and her entire body shuddered at the sensation. She moaned with it, rolling her hips intently against Emma's.

It didn't matter that she'd just had an orgasm, apparently. No, if anything, Regan just felt primed and ready for more.

She wanted to climb Emma Bordeaux like a fucking tree.

As that thought hit her, she lifted her other hand to wrap around Emma's back –

Only to realize far too late that she'd still been holding the glass she'd taken out to have some water. The glass that now, due to Regan's eagerness, slipped from her fingers and fell to the hardwood of the kitchen floor behind Emma.

The shattering sound broke them apart.

Regan tugged her head back, panting for breath as she stared, wide-eyed, up at Emma. "I'm sorry," she apologized immediately, concern cutting through the needy, aching want inside of her.

She fell from her tiptoes back to stand on her heels, body still pressed entirely against Emma's. "Don't step backward. Just – you stay right there, and I'll clean it up. And then we can get right back to this."

Finally, Emma seemed to come back to reality. Regan could see it happening, see the dawning of what they'd just done as it hit Emma.

Who shook her head as she closed her eyes and flexed her fingers against Regan's bare hips.

She shivered at the touch, a sigh escaping her.

At the sound, Emma dropped her hands away. "No, you're the one not wearing anything, including shoes."

Emma leaned back enough to rake her eyes down Regan's body as if confirming for herself that was the truth.

Shivering again, Regan felt her nipples harden at the look, and her breathing felt labored all over again, and she loved it. She wanted Emma to look at her like that. With obvious desire in those electric blue eyes.

Again, Emma clamped her eyes closed. As if shutting Regan out – literally – was the only way to not get distracted by her, and that was a thrilling realization.

"Yeah. So. You should just go back to your–" Emma gasped once more, eyes flying open as she took a step back from Regan. The shoes she was still wearing crunched over the glass. "Your room , where you were just having sex. Fuck, I can't believe I just kissed you after you were… with someone else."

Her hand flew up to her mouth, covering up her kiss-swollen lips. Much to Regan's disappointment.

Feeling the same bafflement from the beginning of this interaction all over again, Regan tossed her hands in the air. "Why are you so freaking certain that I was having sex with another person?"

"Because I heard it!" Emma hissed back, her cheeks flushing.

"No, you didn't."

"Yes, I did."

"You heard me ," Regan shot back, unsure if she should be amused or incredulous or mortified, or a combination of all three.

At once, all of Emma's movements stilled, as she stared wide-eyed at Regan. Slowly, she shook her head. "No. I heard… more than you."

Fine, in this moment, amusement won out, and Regan breathed an exasperated laugh, repeating, "Why are you so sure?"

"Because! I heard you , and I have no doubt about that." Emma's cheeks turned a dark pink as she spoke. "But there were more… moans."

Regan could only stare, that amusement giving away – a bit – into embarrassment. "That was me."

Emma blinked at her, expression morphing from indignant to mystified. "All of it?"

"Well, I was having sex with myself, so… yeah. All of it," she confirmed, and – wow, yeah. She didn't know how to feel, right now.

Still exhilarated from their kiss and still turned on, because – apparently – the leg-shaking orgasm she'd gotten from her vibrator wasn't anything when compared to kissing Emma like that. But she'd never felt so… sheepish, before, about her sex life.

She'd never been scrutinized so closely, as she was now, as Emma's stare seemed to look right through her.

"That was all you ," Emma rasped, sounding breathless.

Wordlessly, Regan nodded. Even if she was embarrassed, it was too late to do anything about it. "I didn't think you were going to be home," she defended, before she remembered, "Also, I don't need to defend myself; I can masturbate in my own room!"

"I know that," Emma shot back, still sounding like she'd run a marathon. "But I've never heard you, before! What, have you not masturbated all summer?"

"I have a very healthy sex life with myself, thank you very much," Regan smartly confirmed, entirely unashamed about that fact. "At least three or four times a week. More, actually, in the last few weeks." She couldn't help it; she dropped her gaze to roam over Emma's body.

As it was, undeniably, the star in many of her fantasies as of late.

Emma seemed to know very well what she was getting at, as her breath hitched in her throat, and Regan could see how she shuddered.

"I'm just usually a lot quieter, because I'm a good roommate. Normally, when I know you're home, I just do it while laying on my stomach and bite my pillow, so–"

An aching, deep groan rumbled from Emma, as she held her hand up to cut Regan off. "Oh my god , Regan, you can't be telling me this stuff. Please."

Finding that none of her prior embarrassment was lingering, Regan shrugged up at Emma, unashamed. In fact, based on Emma's reaction, she felt empowered by it; she wanted to tell her more. To see if Emma would make any more of those hot little sounds. "Why not? Do you not like it?" She challenged. She moved to step toward Emma, only to be stopped as Emma's hands shot out quickly, landing on her shoulders.

"Stop! The glass." Worry etched into Emma's tone, as she glanced down at the floor, carefully walking Regan back a step. "Be careful, please." Emma turned away, walking to the other end of the kitchen, to grab the broom. "Just, let me take care of this."

Absurdly touched, Regan stayed still and watched Emma work. She held her tongue for several more minutes, until Emma had swept, vacuumed, and then ran a damp paper towel over the floor for good measure.

When Emma was all done, Regan smiled up at her. "Thank you. Sorry, again, for dropping the glass. I just got so caught up in kissing you that I didn't even register it was still in my hand."

Guilelessly, she shrugged.

Immediately, Emma dropped her head back. "Regan, we can't–"

"If you don't want this, then why did it clearly bother you so much when you thought I had someone else in my room?" Regan challenged, feeling re-invigorated by the thought. This time, she did take a step forward, closer to Emma. She felt compelled to do it, drawn to stand so close to her, wanting to be as near as possible.

"If you don't have feelings for me, then why does it matter to you if I was having sex with someone else? I know you were upset about it, Emma, so please do us both a favor and don't deny it," there was an edge of begging in her voice, and she couldn't control it.

Because she felt pretty damn desperate, right now. Desperate to know the truth. Desperate for Emma to tell Regan that she wasn't delusional; that Emma not only felt this insane attraction but felt more , just like she did. That it wasn't limited to only Regan.

"Fine, Regan, I was upset. Are you happy?" Emma snapped back, the same desperation in her voice that Regan felt pulsing through her. "I was upset at the idea that you had someone in your room. The idea of you having sex with someone else in our apartment makes me feel crazy , sick to my fucking stomach. Okay?"

"Okay!" Regan accepted, elated by the fact. She felt so… light. Like she could drift away with how happy this made her. "Great!"

"It's not ," Emma denied, tossing her hands in the air as she looked at Regan like she'd grown a second head.

"Why?" She challenged, because she just didn't understand. If Emma felt half as much for Regan as she did for Emma, then it was amazing to know it was reciprocated! "I've tried so, so hard to respect your privacy when it comes to your feelings, I really have. I haven't pressed you to talk to me about them, and I had no plans to. But please , Emma, if you want me to understand, I need you to lay all of your cards on the table for me. Just like I've done for you."

Because, otherwise, Regan would never be able to wrap her mind around this. She wasn't sure she'd understand, even after.

Emma stared at Regan, that expression of desire and attraction so clearly on display, even as it was marred with obvious internal conflict.

"I would never ask you to do something that I wouldn't be willing to do, myself," Regan continued, unable to stop the words from falling out of her mouth. "I'll never ask you to bare your soul to me without baring mine, first," she promised, her voice hoarse with how much she really, truly meant it. "I know it's not as easy for you as it is for me. I know you like privacy, and I know you're scared to let people in, and–"

"If you were, somehow, a stranger to me, this would all be different," Emma broke in, her voice so soft, but so easily commanding Regan's full attention.

Confusion slid through her, and she tilted her head up at Emma with uncertainty.

"If you were a stranger I happened to meet three months ago at the café, then this would all be different," Emma elaborated, shaking her head. "A stranger that makes me laugh the way you make me laugh, that makes me feel so comfortable like you do. A stranger that has gone through these ups and downs with my family and stood by my side the entire time, a stranger that goes out of her way to visit my gram and bake with her. A stranger that took it upon herself to try to help my gram make friends?"

The look in Emma's eyes was so intense, it stole Regan's breath right from her lungs.

"A stranger that happens to be so cute when you smile at videos of animals on the internet, that it makes my heart flutter. A stranger with a mouth that makes me think such inappropriate thoughts, whose smile is like sunshine. A stranger who is not only the most attractive person I know, but who looks at me like I'm the most attractive person you know?" Emma pressed her hand to her own chest as she spoke, like she still couldn't believe what she was saying was true.

Regan fell back into the counter, her knees feeling so weak as Emma spoke. The emotion in her voice was so strong, so compelling, and Regan's head spun with it.

"If you were a stranger, I would be on my knees , begging you to give me a chance. That's how I feel, Regan." Emma finished, searching Regan's gaze with her own, her chest heaving with every breath she took. Like laying that all out for Regan had taken so much out of her, and Regan – knowing Emma – knew that it probably had.

"You don't have to beg me," she breathed, her entire body buzzing with energy. "You don't need to be on your knees–"

She cut herself off, choking on the word as the image of Emma on her knees in front of her – something new for Regan's fantasies, but something very, very welcome – took over her mind.

Shaking herself out of it, she focused on what was important. What was right in front of her. The fact that Emma liked her back?! That much!

"I'm right here. No begging required. I've already told you that I like you."

"But you aren't a stranger," Emma shot back, dropping her head back with a groan that sounded literally pained. "You're Regan. We share an apartment – an apartment that we could never truly avoid one another in. We share a best friend – a best friend that is undeniably closer to you than to me, and I don't want to risk Sutton's friendship. And I… I really like you, Regan. As a person. As a friend. As the only person in my life that isn't my grandmother that sees me , that knows my entire history. It's so much more complicated because you aren't a stranger."

Regan stared at Emma, wanting more than anything to reach out to her. To touch her, not in a romantic or sexual kind of way, but just to – to comfort that struggle evident in her face, to ease the tightness in her shoulders.

"Well, what do you want to do?" She asked, plainly. Because it was the only thing she could think of doing, now. "You know where I stand. I do think you're the most attractive person I know. I do want to touch you every time we're together, just to feel close to you. I love to look at you. To spend time with you. But…" She rolled her lips, shrugging heavily. "I can try to push past it, like I said. I mean, knowing that you have feelings for me back is going to make it infinitely more difficult. And if you meet someone and bring them home to our apartment, I might need to, like, rip out their hair or something."

Emma laughed, which then turned into a whine. "I hate that I find you so funny," she admitted, before she sighed.

A visceral satisfaction worked through Regan at that. "Well, I love that you do. Furthermore, we can work out a masturbation schedule. I'll let you know every time I'm going to really let loose, and–"

"Oh my god, please, don't," Emma cut her off, aiming a serious look at her.

"I don't know what else to do, then." Slowly, carefully – as if she were approaching a wild animal – she walked forward. And she took it as an amazing, wonderful sign that Emma didn't step back. "I get it; it's complicated. We live together. We share Sutton. We're friends."

She came to stand right in front of Emma, only inches away, and she stared up at her. Breathing the same air, feeling Emma's body warmth, and Regan shivered at the proximity. "Just one date. Give me the chance to take you on one date, and if it goes badly or we get the impression that things won't work out for us in any way, then – that's it. We're three and a half months into our living arrangement, so we're halfway through. If the date doesn't go well, then, that's that. We know that we really can't push this, and we will go back to normal."

Regan had no idea that this plea to take Emma on a date had been going to leave her mouth; she'd never even let herself think about that as an option with Emma before.

But now that the idea occurred to her, she wanted it so, so badly. It sparked something to life inside of her, something sweeping and romantic, something she'd never really felt before.

It seemed that was par for the course with Emma, didn't it?

Emma's eyes were wide and beseeching, but Regan didn't know what she wanted from her. Wildly, she thought that she wanted to give Emma anything she could possibly ask for. She just hoped that what Emma asked for was her.

Regan held her breath, unable to breathe normally with the anxiety and anticipation coursing through her as she waited for Emma's response.

It was going to be a no. Logically, she knew it. She knew that Emma didn't like to take chances, didn't like change, and –

"Okay," Emma agreed, her voice so soft. "We can go on one date. To see how it goes."

Regan's mouth fell open as the shock took her over, quickly replaced by elation. She squealed with it, hopping onto her tiptoes and throwing her arms around Emma's neck, unable to help herself. She couldn't contain this! Just earlier tonight, she'd been so convinced this would never be a possibility, that she'd downloaded SapphicSpark! And now…

"I can't wait. I'm going to sweep you off your freaking feet," she swore, her heart pounding in her chest, and she could feel Emma's pounding as well, as Emma's arms tentatively wrapped around her waist, too.

"I'm wondering if I should be a little scared," Emma whispered into her ear.

She shivered at the feeling of Emma's warm breath, chuckling at the exhilaration coursing through her. "Maybe you should be."

Maybe they both should be.

Emma squeezed her hips again, and they both froze.

Abruptly, Emma dropped her hold and leaned back from Regan, breaking their embrace. She took a small step backward. "I think you should maybe put something else on."

Her cheeks flushed, excited pleasure rushing through her as she deliberately tapped her finger against her lips, as she hummed, "Hmm? You think?"

Emma's eyes immediately flashed to watch her, which was precisely what Regan hoped would happen.

Delighted by it, she slid her fingertips down over her chin, gliding down the side of her neck, over her collarbone… Emma's eyes still followed the movement, and Regan wasn't sure she'd ever felt more alive.

Especially as she slowly dragged her own touch down the center of her chest, into the middle of her bra, hooking into the soft fabric. Her own stomach dipped, heat spiraling through her all over again, because she swore she could feel Emma's stare, adding a weight to her touch.

Emma wheeled away, a low moan in her throat. "I told you how attracted I am to you and that I have feelings for you less than ten minutes ago, and you're already doing this to me?"

"I'm incorrigible," Regan readily agreed. The full realization of this evening dawned on her all over again, and that awed feeling swept through her as she grinned up at Emma. "And you like it."

"Against my better judgment and all of my willpower… yes. I do," Emma conceded, biting her lip as she tossed another glance at Regan. Only briefly, as she turned away again. "Seriously, though. Nothing is happening before that date, and I need you to put some clothing on."

"For you? Anything," she teased, only… not.

As she did a little happy dance down the hall to her room, she could feel it well up inside of her. How very much she needed this date to go well, because she didn't think she could come back from this. The high she was on was already so intense, Regan already knew the come down would be brutal.

She had to plan the best date of Emma's fucking life.