Page 59 of Warmer, Colder

It should be so easy to draw the curtains and ignore her. It should be so easy to hate her.It should.I’ve given her opportunity after opportunity to revive my long-dead heart, only to be disappointed when it’s another false start. And, yet, here I am, my hand cramping with how tight I clutch the doorknob, warring with myself to try to resist just one more time.

When will you ever learn, Stasi?

Apparently not today. I tug the door open and cross the yard to where she sits on the bench beneath my trellis.On top of my grave.

Hands on her eyes, she’s oblivious to my presence. She hasn’t realized that I’m bearing witness to her sitting here making a spectacle of herself, making a mockery of my unacknowledged pain. She wants our tragedies intertwined? I’m happy to deliver.

“If you’re so sorry, show me.”

Becca’s hands slide down her face, revealing that she has the audacity to act surprised to see me here. Like she wasn’t desperately trying to draw me out. Unimpressed, I stand theresilently while she chokes on her sobs, trying to rein them in. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“Stasi, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I—“

“I, I, I…is it literally impossible for you not to make yourself the center of everything?” I tear a petal off one of the red roses that surround us. “What about me? Hmm?” Stepping closer, I plant my hands on the arm and back of the bench, caging her in. “Do you think what I need is your tears?” I drag my tongue up her cheek, flattening it to gather every last drop.Delicious but empty of any real meaning.

“What do you want then?” Becca’s brow furrows as she stares up at me looking so confused and pathetic.

“I want you to make an offering.” After all the sacrifices I made for her, don’t I deserve to be worshipped like a goddess?

“A—a what?”

“An offering. A tribute. Something more than your guilt-motivated sorries,” I clarify.

“Like what?” The current of fear in her voice is soothing.

“Eating my pussy is a good start.” Feeling good about my decision, I take a seat on the bench next to her and spread my legs.

Her mouth pops open in shock. “Eat? Your? Pussy? That’s what you want from me?” There’s a mix of disbelief and humor in her breathy laughs.

“To start, yes.”

Becca shakes her head and starts to lean over, but I put my hands over my lap. Her quizzical and slightly annoyed gaze makes my next statement even more satisfying.

“On your knees.” I point to the ground in front of me.

“In the mud?”

I nod. Pleased when she does it without further complaint. While she’s otherwise untouched by the downpour around us, it’s gratifying to see her knees sinking into the mess.

“Ouch,” she whimpers, then grabs something from under her leg. In the moonlight, it’s revealed to be a thorn. “I’m not doing this.”

“After all we’ve been through, you’re going to let a little thorn that feels like nothing more than a pinprick stand between you and your precious forgiveness?” Throwing down the challenge, I wait for her to take the bait.

With rushed, flustered hands, she pushes up my skirt until it’s bunched around my hips. When she hesitates, I slowly part my legs, my thighs sticking together, building anticipation as her eyes remain glued to my center. Reactively, she wets her lips. Using my knees as leverage, she presses up, fitting her body in the space I’ve created for her.Fuck she fits so perfectly.

A soft exhale coasts across my cunt as she sticks her tongue out, ready to lick me.

“Wait,” I smile as her eyes meet mine. “I told you to make an offering. I want you toworshipme.”

Becca grits her teeth. “And how do I do that?”

Her embarrassment spurs me on. “Why don’t you give it a kiss? You hurt my feelings; you know? Maybe this will make it better. It’s worth a try, isn’t it? If you’re really that sorry,” I egg her on.

Palms pressed against my thighs, she shifts them wider, then plants a chaste kiss against my pussy. My nails dig into the wood of the bench as I fight myself not to grab the back of her head and bury her face against me.

“That’s it. Just like that. Now try it with some tongue.”

Her closed lips land on my skin again and again along my center before she applies pressure with her tongue and opens me up. Flattening it, she drags it up to my clit and draws a shaky circle.

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