Page 30 of The Duet

“Lana, please,” I beg, looking her in the eye. How can she refuse me when I do that? She can’t. A finger travels upward to circle my clit.

“Argh,” I groan.

She has the most sensual lips. Her hair is all over the place. Her arm looks strong and the motion of her shoulder stirs something deep inside of me because it’s that very motion that is making me feel like this.

Lana draws a few more slow circles around my clit, then lets her finger slip down again, all the way inside.

My breath stalls as she pushes inside of me. When I look into her eyes again, it’s as though the world stops. Everything else ceases to exist. There’s just us, Lana tethered to me, to my most private spot, with her finger high inside of me.

Her finger moves. Lana thrusts inside me gently. The movement is still so minute, yet I feel it everywhere. This is the woman whose posters graced my teenage bedroom walls. This is the singer who inspired me to start my own band. The feminist who made it all look so easy while it damn well wasn’t. That very woman is moving her finger inside me while gazing deep into my eyes, as though wanting to unearth some secret from the depths of my soul.

Her finger retracts and is swiftly replaced with more. She spreads me wider. She pushes deeper. Her motion picks up speed. Her shoulder shudders as she fucks me. As she takes me. As she changes something inside me forever because how can I ever be the same after doing this? With her? With Lana fucking Lynch.

“Oh, Lana.” I need to say her name.

Her lips part a fraction, as though she might say something back, but she doesn’t. Then, it all becomes too much too quickly and I can’t keep my eyes open any longer. I give myself to the pleasure she’s coaxing from me. I give myself to her. I let her take me there. I ride her fingers until my muscles are spent and my body is all climaxed out. Until I feel as though I’ve just played three gigs in a row.

Lana lowers her forehead to mine. When she blinks, I can feel her eyelashes brush against mine. Slowly, her fingers retreat. She brings them to the small gap between our chins, then sucks them between her lips.

Holy mother of god. I’m about to spontaneously come again at the sight of her. Then, I know I’m a lost cause. Then, I know I’m already so in love with her, or this version of her, that I won’t know what to do with myself for the rest of this tour. But I wanted this. I started this. Whatever happens next, in however many pieces my heart might be broken, it will have been worth this night a thousand times over.

Lana crashes down next to me. This is no time to be bashful. Besides, I need to take all I can get from this night with her. I turn to her and curl my arm around her waist.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“More than okay.” Maybe this is the best moment so far, even better than all the spectacular ones before—this quiet, peaceful moment we’re having together now.

“Thirsty? Hungry?” she asks.

I shake my head. My hand skates a little lower, cupping her buttock. “Only for you.”

“Cleo,” someone whispers in my ear. “Hey, Cleo.” When I open my eyes, I wonder if I’m still dreaming. Lana’s face is close to mine. “Sorry to wake you, but…”

“What time is it?” It’s hard enough to keep track of the schedule, but my brain is complete mush this morning. Are we on the road today? Are we playing tonight?

“It’s early, but maybe you should go back to your room before people start waking up,” Lana says.

“Okay.” I stretch my arms above my head. Every cell in my body wants to remain in Lana’s bed. “Did you get some sleep?”

“Oh, yeah. You wore me out. A show followed by…” Lana arches up her eyebrows, as though it’s somehow difficult to express in words what we did last night. “That.”

“We had sex.” I have far fewer qualms about that. I pull her to me, not caring about how uncool that might appear. “And it was fucking spectacular.” I want to kiss her, but she pulls away.

“About that,” Lana says. “Yes, it was wonderful.” She pauses. “But, um, could we keep it between us, please?”

Is she serious? This is a tour. To keep a secret, let alone one like this with two bands plus entourage is asking the impossible. Moreover, I’m not allowed to tell anyone that I slept with Lana Lynch? “Why?” Is she regretting it already?

“Because I don’t like people talking behind my back and…” She leans closer again, rubbing her nose against mine. “We don’t know what this is yet. It’s easier to explore… this, without everyone on the tour speculating about it.”

“Okay.” I can’t really argue with that. “But, Lana, realistically, I won’t be able to keep this from my bandmates for long.” Tim will be the first to notice there’s something different about me. “This smile.” I paint on an exaggerated grin. “Will give me away in no time.”

“Just for now, please.” Lana pushes her nose against my neck. I feel the heat of her breath as she expels a deep sigh.

“We’d best not ride on the same bus today, then.” I think we’re on the road today.

“That would be a recipe for disaster—and so much gossip, we might never recover from it,” she whispers in my ear. “I find you utterly irresistible, Cleo.”

Music to my ears. To let her know I feel the same, I pull her closer again. Her breasts pressed against mine awaken my arousal.

---