An incredulous laugh bubbled up her throat. “You know, that’squitea scale. I’ve never heard someone ask me to rank something like that, before.”
Regan shrugged, anxiety and hope clearly written on her face as those dark eyes glinted up at Emma. “Well, I’m an individual. Someone that’s an acquired taste, that’s for sure.”
Emma stared intently at Regan, the smile on her lips fading slightly. “You are,” she agreed in a murmur.
Their evening played on a loop in a blur in her mind, and what stood out the most was how Regan had taken such care to think aboutEmmaevery step of the way.
“I haven’t really been on a date in over two years,” Emma found herself admitting. “Which you know, since you know I haven’t been with anyone since Felicity.” It didn’t make her feel any less embarrassed about it in a way she typically wasn’t.
But Emma hadn’t felt like this – desired and wanted, like she was more than a granddaughter and a friend and someone thatneeded to put her head down and bust her ass to get to the next step in her life – in the time since Felicity.
“And even then… well, the final months of my relationship with Felicity hadn’t been exactly romance-central.” Emma rolled her lips, wondering how much she wanted to confess. Normally, she wouldn’t want to say any of this to anyone.
But this was Regan, and Emma felt so utterly comfortable with her, now. Comfortable enough that shewantedto tell her everything about her past relationship.
“Nothing in my relationship with Felicity was romance-central, actually. And part of that was on me,” she admitted, accepting her role in it with a shrug. “I was caught up in her, sure, but she was very pragmatic, and didn’t think very highly of people getting caught up in anything frivolous, which included romance. She referred to it as performative, and I really bought into that.”
Emma had started dating Felicity when she’d barely been twenty, Felicity had been a few years older and more experienced, and Emma had accepted so much of what Felicity said as truth. It had been a natural leap for Emma, too, because she’d seen all of Kimberly’s relationships throughout her youth crash and burn on highs of infatuation, and she’d been so soured on the idea of being all caught up in another person. She’d liked what she’d perceived as Felicity’s realism.
Regan’s eyes searched hers, and Emma couldseehow actively Regan listened to her. Like she soaked in every statement Emma made, and it made those butterflies Emma had been trying to catch in an internal net all night trying to keep in check start to flutter again.
“So… did you feel like tonight was performative?” Regan slowly asked, nerves riddled through her tone.
“No,” Emma breathed back, and the confession felt like it really was the final nail in the coffin. The coffin that held allof Emma’s carefully-held logic and judgments and confliction about the what-ifs, and everything that could go wrong, here. “I feel like you listen to me, and care about my feelings and my thoughts. I feel like you put my interests first tonight, because you wanted to, and you wanted me to have a good time. But I felt like you had a good time, too.”
Regan’s answering nod was quick and eager.
“I feel like… I might be doing the most illogical, craziest thing I’ve ever done, but I can’t fight against it, anymore. I don’t know how I could,” she admitted with a heavy shrug. “I’vetried. Tried ignoring my attraction to you. Tried pushing it away. Tried reasoning that I just liked to spend time with you as a friend and tried to tell myself that it was enough. But I don’t think it is.”
She could hear Regan’s breath hitch in her throat, and Emma’s pulse quickened. She’d never imagined herself being able to say things like this without an ounce of self-consciousness, and maybe if she was saying it to anyone other than Regan, it would still be the case.
Emma licked her lips, dipping her gaze to Regan’s mouth.
Her throat was dry and her heart skipped a beat, and she was going to kiss Regan.Shewas going to be the one to kiss Regan this time, and there was no doubt about it.
“Maybe you are an acquired taste,” she acknowledged, her voice rasping out of her throat as she stepped closer. Putting herself into Regan’s personal space, another role-reversal first.
With a mix of anticipation, uncertainty, and conviction, she lifted her hands to Regan’s hips. The tantalizing curve of them in Regan’s tight jean shorts had been distracting her all fucking night, and she’d been so good. Keeping herself on a tight leash and making sure they made it to the end of the date.
Flexing her hands, she tugged Regan forward a few inches so their bodies brushed together. Regan tilted her head up on atrembling sigh, her hot breath washing over Emma’s neck and jaw, making her shiver.
“But youare– surprisingly but unquestionably – my taste,” she finished, ducking her head to capture Regan’s lips with hers.
Regan sighed, immediately into her mouth, and she swallowed the sound, tucking it into the back of her mind to a place she didn’t think she’d ever forget.
She felt Regan’s hands slide up her arms, her touch warm through Emma’s long-sleeved shirt, and it was the only time all night that she wished she’d been able to change out of her work clothes before the date. Because if she’d work a short-sleeved shirt, she’d be able to feel Regan’s touch on her bare skin, and she craved it. She wanted that touch so, so badly.
Groaning softly in the back of her throat, she slowly slid her tongue along Regan’s. Tasting her and that fucking vanilla ice cream she’d just had.
“You’re right,” she muttered, not breaking their kiss, just speaking into Regan’s mouth. “Vanilla goes with everything.”
Now that she’d laid everything on the line, that she’d confessed the full extent of her feelings, that she’d stopped denying herself – denying either of them – of this, she felt ravenous for more.
She hadn’t been with someone else in so long, hadn’t been touched or been able to touch foryears, and this intense neediness for Regan, specifically, far outweighed anything she’d ever experienced. It made everything feel so muchmore, and she gripped Regan’s hips tightly, guiding them a few steps until Regan’s back hit the wall.
Regan moaned – one of those low, throaty sounds that Emma had been convinced belonged to someone else the other night – and the vibration of it against Emma’s lips was intoxicating. The sound went right to Emma’s clit, making her pulse with need.
She felt Regan’s hand claw into her hair, taking a tight fistful of it, and the bite – not too hard, but enough that Emma couldfeelher – only added to her arousal.