Page 23 of Our Secret Summer

CHAPTER 17

“I guess this makes me woman number three,” Raffo joked, perhaps inappropriately—but this whole situation was rather inappropriate.

Luckily, Dylan chuckled, and pulled her close.

“And what a number three you are,” Dylan breathed into Raffo’s ear. “Fuck, Raffo.”

“Yeah.” Raffo had to laugh as well. It made it easier to ignore that Dylan was Connor’s mother. Besides, it was a little late to focus on that now. She should have done that before bolting out of her room earlier, before letting Dylan grab her hand and pull her into her bedroom. Before that obliterating kiss against the wall. But Raffo couldn’t stop herself. She’d lain awake, tossing and turning, after the conversation they’d had, and when she’d heard Dylan on the stairs, her body had taken over. Her feet had walked her to the door and her hand had swung it open and then Dylan had stood there, looking so fucking sexy and inviting. Then their eyes had met and now here they lay, naked in Dylan’s bed.

Dylan’s weight settled against her—leg draped over hers, head tucked into her shoulder, arm curved beneath her breasts. The press of skin against skin made Raffo’s breath catch. She stroked Dylan’s hair while, between her legs, her clit stood to attention. And Raffo was still wearing her pajama bottoms.

“For a moment there, I almost panicked because I didn’t tell you where to find the lube.” Dylan’s body shook lightly against Raffo’s as she giggled.

“No lube required.” Raffo moved her hand downward from Dylan’s hair to her back, until it came to rest on the swell of her behind. Dylan was so utterly gorgeous. Raffo had no idea what she was doing in bed with the likes of her dumped, sad self—although Dylan had said all those lovely things about Raffo tonight, greatly contributing to Raffo not being able to sleep. Either way, the pulse between her legs didn’t allow for more questions in that vein. Because theywerein bed together and Raffo had just made Dylan come and by the way Dylan’s body had convulsed beneath her, Raffo had done a spectacular job. “Not this time,” she said. “Maybe later.”

“We’ll see.” Dylan pushed herself up and sent Raffo one of her smiles. She had one of the dreamiest, sexy smiles Raffo had ever seen. It wasn’t just sunny and genuine; it did something to her face that made everything about her even more alluring. Raffo couldn’t help but mirror it every time. Dylan made her smile. Maybe it was that simple. She’d made her smile from the minute Raffo had encountered her in the house, in this very room. She undid, with an easy stretching of her lips, the corners of her mouth lifting deliciously upward, the feeling that Raffo was a first-class loser after Mia leaving her.

“We will.” Realistically, when they came back to their senses—although who knew when that might be?—they would need to limit this madness to one night only. In that case, and it was the only case possible, Raffo had every intention of making it a night she would never forget. And there was so much more she wanted to do to Dylan—things for which lube would most definitely be required.

“First things first.” Dylan locked her blue eyes on Raffo, then leaned in for a kiss. Raffo could kiss her forever. The softness of Dylan’s lips was a perfect extension of how gentle she was in life. The smiles she liked to intersperse their kisses with a perfect illustration of how lovely and caring she was as a person. There it was again. Raffo could feel Dylan’s lips stretch against hers into one of her smiles. It blossomed on her face as she leaned back, as she slid her hand down Raffo’s belly, inside her shorts. Dylan’s smile faded when her fingers slipped between Raffo’s legs.

“Oh, fuck,” Dylan said on a sigh, as though she was the one being touched like that. “You’re so wet.”

Raffo swallowed slowly. Of course she was wet. This was one of the hottest moments of her life.

“Let’s get these off.” Dylan seemed to have come to her senses again and hooked her fingertips under the waistband of Raffo’s pajama shorts. She quickly slid them off Raffo’s legs and threw them over her shoulder.

Then Raffo lay fully naked in front of Dylan. Despite being in an open relationship, she hadn’t been naked with anyone but Mia in ten years. Despite already having made Dylan come, Raffo felt vulnerable—just as naked on the inside as she was on the outside.

“Are you okay?” Dylan brought the back of her hand to Raffo’s cheek and caressed it softly. A finger lingered on Raffo’s lips and she trailed it along Raffo’s bottom lip.

“Yeah,” Raffo said as she tried to catch her breath. Yes, this was a vulnerable moment, but, because of the week they’d had together, and all those candid, fireside conversations, she felt completely safe with Dylan. In this house, Dylan took care of Raffo in a way that no one, not even Mia, had since before she was thirteen years old. It was only natural for Raffo to respond to that, as well as to all the other irresistible things that Dylan was. Endlessly kind, first of all. Someone who really listened when you told them something. Generous with her time and attention and the amount of skin on display when she pranced about the house. And, of course, an excellent bisexual.

Dylan’s hand meandered south, stopping at Raffo’s breast. She cupped it gently, her thumb lightly brushing against Raffo’s nipple. The way her hand roamed across Raffo’s body so delicately was so quintessentially Dylan—and quite different from what she and Mia did in bed—and therefore, it was perfect. Because this wasn’t Mia by a long stretch. Mia was gone. Mia would never touch her again, would never see her naked again. Mia was the past, and this was now. Raffo had no use for looking into the future, past this night. This night was all she had and it was all she needed, as long as Dylan’s fingers whispered across her skin like that.

Raffo groaned deeply when Dylan wrapped her lips around her nipple, when her tongue softly skated over it. While her tongue licked Raffo’s nipple into a rock-hard peak, her hand drifted from Raffo’s other breast to where it had been before. Dylan’s touch might be delicate, but it wasn’t less effective for it—on the contrary. A fingertip slipped through her wetness and Dylan moaned against Raffo’s breast. She let go of Raffo’s nipple and looked at her, the sexiest smile ever on her lips.

She looked into Raffo’s eyes and pushed a finger deep inside.

Raffo was not used to so much tenderness, to such delicacy, when doing this. She certainly wasn’t used to Dylan’s face so close to hers. The truth was that she wasn’t really used to any of this anymore. This slow acquisition of a new person’s body. The lying awake wondering whether they’d really been flirting or just talking a bit more openly than two acquaintances would. The befriending of someone unlikely. And most of all, for Raffo, the pure joy she felt when she worked on her painting of a topless Dylan. To feel her mojo course through her veins, pump in her blood, as though it was an inextricable part of her. It was all because of Dylan. This unlikely, extraordinary woman who was stroking inside her.

There was not a hint of smile left on Dylan’s face. Not even a tiny grin. Her face was all solemn gravity as she slipped her finger out of Raffo and replaced it with two. Despite the desire to close her eyes, Raffo couldn’t look away from Dylan’s face if she tried. Dylan looked completely entranced, like earlier, when she’d discovered how wet Raffo had been for her. Like she was riding this wave of pleasure along with Raffo instead of merely bestowing it on her.

Raffo brought her hand to Dylan’s face and, instantly, Dylan turned to suck Raffo’s thumb into her mouth. All the while, her fingers worked their magic between Raffo’s legs, and as the wave turned into an unstoppable flood, Raffo felt more than pleasure. Because only the gentlest, kindest touch could reach the grief that had settled so deep within her—and Dylan had that touch in spades.

Her thumb caught in Dylan’s mouth, those knowing fingers working inside her, Raffo felt herself cresting. The waves hit hard—pleasure tangled with an unexpected surge of emotion. Not just grief for Mia, but for everything she’d finally been able to voice in those late-night talks with Dylan. When she caught her breath again, the tears on her cheeks felt more like release than sadness.

She felt satisfied and a little beside herself and a lot like she wanted to lie in Dylan’s arms all night long.

Dylan had the sensitivity to not ask whether Raffo was okay. She just pulled her close, asking nothing and offering everything in the warmth of her embrace.

CHAPTER 18

Dylan woke with Raffo’s arm around her waist and Raffo’s cheek pressed against her shoulder. She took a breath. She tried to gauge the time by the light filtering between the curtains but the time of day didn’t matter. No one, except Raffo, knew she was here. Today would be another day they would spend together, except now, they’d slept together.

Oh, fuck.The first thought that flitted through her head was that Connor could never know about this. She would tell him everything about why she was at Big Bear, but never that she’d slept with his best friend. Her breath turned into a sigh. Spectacular as it had been, it was also complicated. Raffo wasn’t just anyone.

Dylan tried to shift in Raffo’s embrace to look at her. Raffo stirred slightly, but her arm remained around Dylan’s waist, and she showed no signs of waking.

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