Chapter Text
Maura Isles, senior Organic Chemistry major at Boston Cambridge University, leans over the bathroom sink, staring at her lips in the mirror, and draws on a fresh layer of lip gloss. The thudding sound of the base from the living room pounds through the perfunctory seal of the closed bathroom door. She presses her lips together and gives herself a cursory pucker. Her eyes scan her face, assessing for cracks in her armor. Her foundation is flawless, the dark shading of her eyeshadow is to die for and accents her hazel eyes perfectly. She is not ashamed to admit that she had always been able to find the perfect shade combination. She’s impressed and pleased with the effect all the same.
It is a clever ruse to mask the mood she’s been unable to get herself out of for weeks. Her girlfriend of two years, Octavia Van Alan, had broken up with Maura at their National Dressage Championship after Maura had ridden nude into the ring to protest budget cuts. Octavia had found the act inappropriate and uncouth. Or so she said. In return, Maura had called her an uptight prig with puritanical ideals and dry lips. Octavia had gasped rather dramatically and called her a ‘bitch’ in return.
The argument had further spiraled from there. The break up was a long time coming but it still hurt Maura all the same. She and Octavia had been friends before they had decided to try dating. The dating, as it turned out, had worked unbelievably well. Their friendship had transformed seamlessly into intimacy. Which led to a two year romance filled with laughter and companionship throughout the school year. Then followed by the unbelievable summers at the Van Alan Hamptons estate and cozy winters at the Isles lodge in Aspen.
Maura sighs and straightens. She studies her face and the rest of her posture in the mirror. There are imperceptible chinks in the armor: subtle, dark periorbital circles beneath her eyes (probably from her lack of sleep), minor redness of her conjunctiva (probably from the crying), deepening of the oral commissure lines at the corners of her mouth (probably from the general melancholy). She smiles half heartedly at herself to chase away the signs.
It doesn’t help in the slightest. She rolls her eyes at herself and scoffs. The cheap lighting in the dimly lit bathroom certainly isn’t doing her any favors.
Suddenly, there is a knock on the bathroom door.
“Maura! Babe! Are you coming out of there or what?” Her friend and fellow Organic Chemistry major, Susie Chang, slurs from the other side of the door.
“Just a minute!” Maura calls back. Maura smoothes her hands down her short leather skirt then readjusts it. She fixes the sleeves of her sheer black mesh top and pulls gently on the bottom hem that hovers overtop of her bellybutton. Maura is hoping between the crop top, the leather skirt, and the heels she’s wearing that she won’t go home alone. But she has yet to find anyone worth the chase. Though this far into the night, she is starting to lose her nerve. And her patience.
But she is here with Susie and her boyfriend Kent, the transfer student from Scotland. She should be having fun. Maura takes one last look at herself and nods once. She would enjoy herself. This is the first party she has been to this year. Senior year is supposed to be fun. Or at least, that’s what she’s told. She could let loose just this once.
Maura spins on the door, turns the knob, and flings the door open. Susie waits for her on the other side with a drink in hand. The sudden onslaught of the thundering base and the pulse of the music thumped against her cerebellum.
“I got you this!” Susie yells over the music and hands her a red solo cup filled with an unknown, sweet smelling liquid. “Drink up!” She slurs and presses the cup to Maura’s lips and tips it back. Maura takes an unintentionally large swig and holds the cup at bay and steps back.
“Oh my god, what is that?” Maura exclaims in disgust and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.
“High fructose corn syrup, citric acid, sodium benzoate, Red 40-”
“Hawaiian Punch?” Maura interrupts. Her refined palette can taste the various juice concentrates.
Susie nods. “And Sprite.”
“And vodka?” Maura adds tasting the sharp tang of rubbing alcohol. “That’s atrocious.”
“I know. It was all they had so-” Susie stops mid-sentence when Maura upends the cup into her mouth. “Ok then.” Susie says under her breath.
Though the taste is foul, the effects of the alcohol should ease her mind into that fun night she should be having. She swallows thickly.
“Ok, you need to meet people. Let’s go.” Susie grabs her hand and leads her into the throng of other students. Susie knows she had gone through a breakup. It was she that had invited her out to get her mind off of it in the first place. Susie, it seems, is intent on getting her out of her head and back in the game. Susie leads her to a small cluster of people and Maura feels the ramifications of drinking so much at once. She blinks it away as Susie introduces her.
“Guys, this is Maura.” Susie interrupts.
“Hey Maura, I’m Glen.” The particularly uninteresting looking guy to her left says to her.
“I’m Ashley.” The alt-looking girl across from her offers with a smile. Maura smiles back.
“Rachel.” The last girl offers. She doesn’t smile. Maura ignores her.
Glen starts by asking Maura’s major and what year she is. Maura answers their questions then politely asks theirs. They have nothing in common. There’s no overlap in professors nor classes. The only similarity is that Rachel is a senior as well. Maura asks what her plans are after graduation to which she replies, I don’t know.
The night is off to a roaring start. Susie attempts to carry the conversation but Glen and Ashley take over eventually with uninteresting stories that Maura wishes she wasn’t being subjected to. She discreetly looks down at her Rolex and wonders at what point it would be acceptable to leave without appearing rude.
But every dull turn in conversation, Maura rationalizes that window of escape. She cares less and less about rudeness and more about having an evening back to focus on her studies. That window of escape is becoming earlier and earlier. This is not the type of distraction that she had been hoping for and not the distraction Susie had promised. This felt more like a series of forced upon ice breakers with a team she had no interest in working with.
Just when her interest waned from the party entirely, the front door opens. Maura doesn’t care to look until a raucous welcome greets the newly entered guests. Maura glances up and notices a few athletic looking guys rise from the kitchen table and clap the newly arrived male on the shoulders. From behind their hulking bodies, Maura can’t see if anyone else is with him. Maura turns back to the absurd conversation happening in front of her. Then she hears a deep, raspy female voice from the door. Maura turns immediately in the direction of the door and the sea of masculinity parts to give Maura an unobstructed view.
“Good to see you too Hendricks. Glad you actually passed Schaefer’s class.” The girl that had just arrived jokes with one of the muscular jocks in the doorway and affably punches his arm. The jock smiles at her.
The girl wore a baseball hat on backwards, a crisp oversized Red Sox t-shirt, tight black jeans, and white Converse All Stars. Her dark wavy hair is pulled to one side and Maura blinks. She has decidedly found her diversion for the night. Maura smirks to herself and takes a sip of her ghastly drink as she observes. The girl exudes confidence in a way Maura has never seen in a woman. It is entirely intrinsic and unassuming. Maura cocks her head in assessment.
The newly arrived male has his hand on the girl’s back but drops it away instantly abandoning his date as he mindlessly follows his troop of imbeciles to the kitchen table. The girl didn’t follow. Instead she rolls her eyes and surveys the room, her dark intelligent eyes taking in the details of the party. Maura is completely struck by her. Something about her energy calls to her, entices her, beckons to her. Maura wants to know her. And just like that, Octavia is forgotten.
Surely the alcohol is affecting her mind and her eyesight. Maura tears her gaze away to refocus on the rather banal conversation that is happening among her small circle of bores. Not even thirty seconds later, Maura’s mind (and her eyes) wander back to the woman in the baseball hat. Maura finds her alone in the kitchen making herself a drink.
Before Maura makes any movement, she weighs the possibility and the likelihood of the girl’s queerness. Physically, she presents as a tomboy lesbian. She has a confident edge to her that’s not typically seen in straight women…and that swagger…the swagger is most certainly gay. But Maura can’t shake the image of that guy’s hand on her lower back when they arrived. That thought alone makes her doubt. But the alcohol is making her brave.
“Excuse me.” Maura says politely to the group of monotony before her and turns to the kitchen to size up the dark-haired girl fully. If her boyfriend (?) is otherwise occupied, Maura wants to steal the opportunity to investigate further. Armed with her empty solo cup, she steps into the kitchen and busies herself with the cooler of ice. Satisfied with the amount of ice cubes, she sidles up to the dark haired girl standing against the counter with the oversized bottle of Vodka in hand. Maura grabs the 2 liter jug of Sprint and twists off the cap.
“Hi,” Maura offers politely and pours Sprite into her cup. The girl looks up and does a double take.
“H-Hi,” she sputters in that raspy voice of hers. That confidence from earlier waned. But in that one syllable from her, Maura can already guess why. Her tone had changed entirely. Maura grins knowing that the queer-meter is tipping in her favor.
“The vodka is vile, you’ll definitely need a mixer.” Maura nods at the girl’s cup. The girl had not stopped looking at Maura and had, subsequently, not stopped pouring vodka into her red solo cup.
“Oh shit!” The girl looks down in surprise and halts the guzzling vodka abruptly. The girl looks from her cup to the bottle and back in a slight panic as if sizing up the possibility of pouring it back.
Maura chuckles. “Here, pour some in mine.” Maura offers the girl her cup.
The girl pours half the dispensed liquor into her offered receptacle. It’s at least three shots by Maura’s estimation.
“Looks like we’ll be getting drunk together then.” Maura smiles wide up at her.
The brunette smirks. “Yeah, I guess-uh,” she begins and takes a step toward her but stops herself. She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head once like she’s resetting. When she opens her eyes again, her gaze is solid and unwavering.
The girl offers her right hand to Maura. “I’m Jane.” She says in a deep voice.
Maura looks down at Jane’s offered hand and grasps it. When she looks back up, she finds dark brown eyes studying her.
“I’m Maura.” She supplies. Jane’s grip is firm but comforting and warm. She feels like security. When Jane smiles slowly at her, Maura forgets how to speak.
“Are you, uh, here with your boyfriend?” Jane asks. Maura thinks it an odd question to begin with. It snaps her out of the brief haze of being under the spell of Jane’s smile. She drops Jane’s hand when she realizes she’s still holding it.
“No. My friends. Over there,” Maura gestures to Susie and Kent sitting on the couch with a different group of people. Jane cranes her neck to look where Maura is pointing. Susie’s eye snags on Jane’s movement and her focus jumps to Jane. Then to Maura and back again. Susie smiles. Maura smiles bashfully back. Then Susie raises her drink in a proverbial cheers and returns to her conversation.
Maura clears her throat. “You’re here with yours though?” She restarts the conversation. She wants clarity on the guy Jane had brought with her.
“Yeah. Casey.” Jane shrugs with a half smile and Maura notices color rise to her cheeks. Maura raises her brows briefly. So it is her boyfriend. After only a few short minutes of speaking with Jane, Maura knows Jane isn’t straight. But the reality that Jane is still very much in the closet disappoints her. And Jane’s appearance at the party had been so promising.
“How long have you been together?” Maura asks casually, looking to at least politely extend the conversation.
“Jane! Come over here! I want you to meet some people.” Jane’s boyfriend, Casey (?) Maura supposes, calls from the table. Jane turns over her shoulder toward the table. She nods. Maura deflates. There goes her distraction. But Jane turns back to her.
“I’ll see you around, yeah?” Jane reaches out and grips her elbow gently.
Maura nods unable to speak with Jane’s hand on her. Then Jane and her hand are gone. Maura rounds on the makeshift bar and pours more Hawaiian Punch into her cup to deaden the impact of the three shots of vodka Jane had poured in.
Maura watches Jane meander over to the table and stand beside Casey. He wraps an arm around her waist. Maura wonders fleetingly what it would be like to feel Jane’s waist beneath her hands. Her eyes widen in shock at the sudden unbridled trail of her thoughts. She leaves the kitchen promptly to find her friends.
As Maura sits quietly on the arm of the couch beside Susie, her thoughts turn back to Jane. Maura considers her micro actions from the kitchen, her interest in knowing her, and her general presence as a beacon of queer energy. Maura bites the inside of her cheek in thought. Maura remembers the way she stumbled over herself when Maura said, hi. Then the way she kept leaning in, kept trying to get close to her. And her touch. Oh, her touch was something that still had Maura reeling.
With Jane in the picture, Maura has suddenly found her reason to linger at the party. Perhaps Maura can encourage that side of her to come out. She wonders then how apt Jane is to stray from her date. Maura takes a swig of her drink. Her eyes drift back to Jane across the room. Just as Jane’s eyes find hers.
Maura smirks and bites her bottom lip but pointedly shifts her focus to the conversation in front of her. She hears none of it as her mind shifts and wraps itself around Jane’s attention. She wants to feel her eyes on her, she wants to feel her touch again, she wants to see how far she can manage to get Jane to pursue her. With single-minded determination often reserved for class and experiments, Maura’s entire being is now focused on being perceived by Jane and how successfully she can draw her in.
Maura runs a hand through her hair and takes another sip of her drink. Her eyes flash to Jane’s again from behind the cover of her cup. Jane is watching her. Maura pretends not to notice and watches Kent as he talks about applied physics.
“Who was that in the kitchen with you?” Susie leans into her and asks under her breath.
Maura leans down casually. “Her name is Jane.” Maura grins.
“She’s hot. But isn’t she with that guy?”
“Yes.” Maura says it like it’s a surmountable obstacle. Maura’s running hypothesis is that it is.
“Are you going to go for it?”
Maura sighs. “I’m going to try.”
Susie smiles. “Good luck.” She says good-naturedly.
Susie jumps back into the conversation and Maura pretends to listen. Some time later, the conversation winds down and some participants get up to find other conversations or more interesting things to do. Maura turns to Susie and Kent and the conversation turns to classes and their plans for graduation.
Maura lets herself get lost in the discussion knowing full well it’s better to have the distraction and not obsess about getting Jane’s attention again. But as soon as Maura forgets herself in talks of her upcoming medical school program, Jane’s clan decides it’s a perfect time to yell about going to play corn hole in the yard. Maura is fairly certain they’re referring to the bean bag toss game she saw in the yard when she arrived.
Maura tracks Jane across the living room with her band of men as they pull open the balcony door and hop (rather athletically) over the railing of the balcony into the yard. Maura watches the male group with derision. However, seeing Jane’s athletic abilities is significantly more appealing.
Once out in the yard and standing between the two corn hole boards, she notices Jane laughing and goofing off with the boys. Though more interesting is what she does not see. She does not find Jane interacting with Casey overmuch. Had Jane not said they were together, Maura would never have thought they were. Maura takes another sip of her drink.
Maura decides then to bide her time. She’ll allow their interactions to be organic, it was still fairly early by party standards. She could be patient. In the meantime, she needs to be busy. She needs to be distracted. She needs to find something to do. A small group of people are crowding in the living room and swaying their bodies to the beat of the music.
“Come on, Maura! Let’s dance!” Susie leaps up from the couch.
“Oh no, I don’t dance.” Maura replies, holding her hands up in resistance.
“Drink the rest of that and get that stick out of your ass!” Susie grabs one of her upraised hands. Maura rolls her eyes, drinks the last of her swill, and rises to her feet. When she stands, she immediately feels the effects of her drink choice (and Jane’s subsequent top off).
But she let’s the beat of the music take her anyway, swaying and bouncing to the beat as she joins the fray. She’s not particularly coordinated and she finds her hips moving out of sync with the music but as her head sways around, her hair moving into her face, she stops caring. She’s thankful for the distraction from Octavia, from the absolute potential bore of the night, and more recently, from distracting thoughts of her new interest.
The night moves ahead at breakneck speed then as the alcohol finds every joint and every curve of her body leading to less worry about looking like a fool and more about having a good time. Each song drifts into the next. Then, without warning, a cacophony of celebratory male hollers pervades the apartment as the group of jocks from the lawn disperse in search of drinks.
They come through the front door this time and crowd into the kitchen while they shout, ‘SHOTS!’ unnecessarily loudly at the top of their lungs. It breaks Maura’s reverie just enough as she unconsciously searches for Jane.
Jane is leaning over the bar top on the outside of the kitchen, one ankle crossed in front of the other and she’s watching Maura over her shoulder. Maura grins and looks away again. But she can still feel Jane’s gaze on her. She wonders if she can get Jane to pursue. Maura’s eyes flick up to Jane’s again and her suspicions are confirmed, she’s still watching her.
Maura finds her way to the balcony and away from the noise, hoping Jane will follow. As she leans against the railing and takes a deep centering breath, she hears the door open and someone join her. She turns over her shoulder.
“Nice night.” A male says.
Mhmm, Maura mutters and turns back around uninterested.
“Not having a good time, I take it?” He asks.
“What gives you that impression?” Maura asks blandly and doesn’t make eye contact.
The male and his overwhelming musk of Axe body spray finds the railing beside her. She glances sidelong at him.
“You’re not in there taking shots with the rest of the jarheads.” He explains.
She turns to him and narrows her eyes, not understanding.
“The yelling boys club in there are all ROTC.”
“Ah,” Maura nods. Maura had thought they were athletes of some kind. But future soldiers felt just the same. But she’s not interested in carrying this conversation. She does not offer anything more than the brief acknowledgment. It does not seem to deter the male from looking at her.
He leans in closer. “So, what year are you?” He asks. Maura sighs just as the balcony door opens again.
“Hey, Maura, can I get you another drink?” Jane’s deep voice casually asks from the door. Maura turns to her with a relieved smile.
“Yes. In fact, I’ll come in with you.” Maura vacates her once quiet spot and follows Jane back into the apartment.
Jane leans into her, brushing her shoulder against Maura’s. “You looked like you needed a rescue.” Maura’s whole body comes alive at the touch.
“I could have managed thank you very much.” Maura challenges playfully.
Jane laughs under her breath. “I don’t doubt it.”
Maura doesn’t reply. She can’t through her smile. Jane leads the way into the kitchen. Jane stops in front of the whole of the drink offerings. Maura steps in close beside her. The alcohol in her system, however, demands her arm brush against Jane’s first. If Jane cares, she doesn’t let on.
“So, what can I get you?” Jane asks and gestures to the whole of the bar. She turns over her shoulder to look down at her.
“I don’t know if I can handle any more Hawaiian Punch.” Maura says in something close to fear as she stares at the menacing jug of red juice. Jane laughs.
“Ok, then do a shot with me.” Jane offers instead. Maura looks up at her. Jane is grinning.
“Didn’t you just do one?”
“Yeah, but I’d rather do one with you.”
Maura can feel heat rise to her cheeks. She nods. And Jane grabs two new solo cups from the stack then grabs the permanent marker from the counter. She writes her name in block letters on the side of the first cup then picks up the other cup and writes ‘Maura’ with a small heart beside the ‘A’.
“Did I spell it right?” Jane shows her the cup.
Maura nods. “Perfect.” She doesn’t have the nerve to ask her about the heart.
Jane nods in satisfaction and sets the cup down to grab the overlarge bottle of vodka. She pours them each an estimation of a shot.
Jane slides Maura’s portion over to her. Maura picks it up and looks into Jane’s dark brown eyes.
“Cheers,” Jane holds out her cup.
“Cheers.” Maura taps hers against Jane’s.
Then they toss back the atrociously cheap liquor.
“Ugh,” Maura makes a face of revulsion. Jane laughs again but her face is also contorted in a grimace.
“Here, here, chaser.” Jane hastily wraps her fingers around Maura’s cup as it’s still clutched in her hand. Her fingers overlap Maura’s as Jane pours lemonade from the nearest bottle into their cups. She lifts Maura’s drink to her lips. “Drink, it helps.” Jane adds. Maura drinks dutifully.
Maura’s never had a chaser before. Most alcohol she’s consumed never needed it. Superior, well-made liquors are smooth enough to be savored on their own. But as she drinks down the lemonade, she has to agree: it helps.
Jane tosses back her shot of lemonade as well once she’s content in Maura’s participation. Maura’s mind is already feeling cloudy as she finds Jane’s dark eyes again. Jane smiles at her unabashedly. Beneath Jane’s close gaze, Maura feels certain now that something is definitely happening between them. Maura takes a step closer to her and Jane doesn’t back away. Her mind buzzes either from the alcohol or Jane’s proximity. Her breathing quickens.
But then she hears her name being called.
“Paging Doctor Isles!” She hears again in a sarcastic tone from behind her. Maura rolls her eyes and turns toward Kent, where he has appeared from the doorway of the dining room. He’s leaning out to catch her attention. “We’re playing beer pong!” Kent waves her into the dining room. She nods and waves at him in acknowledgement.
When she turns back to Jane, Jane is watching Kent closely. She looks back at Maura.
“See you around.” Maura says huskily and grips her forearm. She needs the breather from Jane’s unwavering gaze anyway. She can’t think straight when Jane is that close, when she’s smiling down at her. Maura finds the dining room and rounds to the opposite side of the dining room table.
“Do you want to play?” Susie asks.
“Sure.” Maura agrees. She’d agree to anything for the distraction, for the breath of fresh air. Kent sets out red solo cups in a triangle shape on each side of the table. Kent instructs Susie to start pouring beer into each cup. Susie cracks open the beer and begins pouring into the cups on her side. Susie looks up then as if struck by realization.
“Oh, you need a partner.” Susie tells Maura.
“I’ll be your partner.” Jane materializes beside her. Maura looks up startled. Jane rounds the table and stands beside her.
“Th-thank you.” Maura stumbles. She has not had enough time to recenter herself after the moment in the kitchen.
“Do you guys know how to play?” Jane asks the table.
“You just toss the ball into the cups?” Maura offers.
Jane chuckles quietly. “Almost. But there’s a skill to it.”
“Ok…” Maura is a good student. And she would very much like for Jane to teach her…just about anything.
“The point is to get the ball into the cups on the other side. Each team gets a turn to get a ball into a cups. If you do, the other team has to drink the beer that’s in that cup. Do that until all the cups are gone. Once the cups are gone, you win.” Jane instructs succinctly.
“It sounds like the point is to get the other team drunk.” Maura comments.
Jane chuckles warmly. “Yeah, that too. The drunker they get the worse they are.”
Maura and Susie both nod. Susie opens another can of beer and approaches her and Jane’s side of the table then begins dispensing it.
Jane grabs the can from Susie’s hand as she pours an unchecked amount into a single cup. “Whoa, not that much. Unless you want to get us hammered. Which is a fair play.” Jane smiles. Maura smiles with her. Susie blushes and pours a lighter amount of beer into the other cups. Jane pours the excess into another empty cup. Once complete, she returns to her side of the table beside Kent.
“Is there a tactic to throwing?” Susie prompts innocently. She glances at Maura. Maura knows immediately what Susie is trying to do. The term, ‘wing-woman’ jumps to mind.
“Yeah, it’s all in the wrist.”
Maura cocks her head trying to wrap her head around the movement. Jane looks between her and Susie.
“Here, stand here. I’ll show you.” Jane lays her hands on Maura’s hips and moves her bodily to the stand centrally behind the beer pong table. Maura’s entire body ignites and her cheeks flush with Jane’s hands on her. She glances up at Susie who is biting back her smile. She can feel Jane standing behind her, her body is not quite touching hers but it’s close enough that her lips are inches from her ear. Jane’s one hand hasn’t left her hip.
“Now, elbow up.” Jane’s gentle hand slides down Maura’s tricep and lifts her arm into the air. “Bend your elbow back then flick your wrist.”
“Like this?” Maura pantomimes the wrist flick movement to gauge her form. She turns over her shoulder to look up at Jane. Jane purposely doesn’t look down at her. She’s only assessing her wrist. Maura’s pulse races.
“Just like that. Send it.” Jane commands gently.
Maura obediently flicks her wrist and launches the ping-pong ball across the table. It lands into the cup in the back corner with a clatter. Maura’s relief is palpable. She was certain the ball would end up across the room from the distraction alone.
“Perfect form!” Jane exclaims and steps away from her. Maura feels like she can breathe again. But she craves her touch all over again.
Jane explains then at that point, Susie or Kent would take a drink because she sunk a ball into the cup and the game would commence from there. If no one gets the ball into any cups, they keep rotating until someone does. Jane confirms all three of them are comfortable with the rules and gives permission for a few practice throws. Once they feel at ease with the form and the trajectory and the rules, they begin.
It still takes her and Susie a few rounds to get into the movement of throwing the ball, despite her lucky first throw. But after Kent makes three consecutive ringers into their cups, Jane makes Maura drink all three. Then she loosens up significantly. Maura finally makes one. Jane celebrates like she won the round for them. It bolsters her and gives her the confidence to perfect her aim.
Maura is not so lucky on any other turn. But Jane is at least keeping them in the game with her expertise. But Susie and Kent are ensuring Jane takes her fair share of drinks by sinking balls into their cups. Sooner than Maura realizes, they have one cup left. Her and Jane both are suitably buzzed. Or drunk - Maura has never been clear on the levels of inebriation.
Either way, her inebriation is making her reach out and touch Jane far more than she ever would sober. It’s a hand on her arm or her shoulder or full on hugging her in excitement when Jane sinks a ball into the second to last cup. Jane’s hands linger on her just the same. She leans over her shoulder when she’s about to toss the ball across the table and whispers into her ear about aiming. It makes goosebumps erupt all over her body feeling Jane’s breath on her.
Now, they’re staring down table at the last, lone cup that stands between them and victory. Jane insists she take the shot. Jane leans into her, her shoulder, and most of her body aligning against Maura’s side. Her head rests against Maura’s.
“You have to get it into the hole, Maura.” Jane whispers teasingly as some of her vowels slur.
“I know how to put things in holes, Jane.” Maura whispers back with a bite. Jane turns to her quickly. Maura locks eyes with her.
“Do you?” Jane challenges quietly. Her face inches from Maura’s.
“Would you like to find out?” Maura tilts her head in challenge. When Jane doesn’t back down Maura raises her throwing arm and bends her elbow without breaking eye contact. Then tosses the ping-pong ball across the table. And sinks it into the single open cup with a splash. Jane’s attention whips around to the final cup that Maura has just cleared.
“Holy shit! Fuck yes!” Jane exclaims and wraps her arms around Maura’s waist and lifts her into the air. As Jane spins her in celebration, Maura wraps her arms tight around the back of her neck and tucks her face into her shoulder.
When Jane returns her to the floor, Maura’s hands don’t quite leave Jane’s shoulders. Jane’s grin is so wide and enticing that for the first time all night, Maura considers the possibility of kissing her. Jane’s eyes dart to Maura’s lips like she’s had the same thought. Maura’s pulse quickens again. But when Jane suddenly averts her gaze and pulls away, Maura drops her hands hastily not entirely sure what had happened.
“I’m going to get another drink.” Jane murmurs and she’s gone before Maura can reply. Maura blinks in her wake. Well, something had definitely happened but Maura has no idea what. She looks at Susie in question, who shrugs simply.
Maura raises her brows in resignation but leaves the dining room in pursuit of another preoccupation. She needs movement. Especially after Jane has left her reeling. Jane’s abrupt evasion has Maura wondering if she had misread the signs. But no, Jane had definitely been looking at her lips. And she had certainly found every chance to touch her.
As Maura exits the dining room, she eyes the kitchen and living room, looking for someone to strike up a conversation with. Without the barrier of sobriety, Maura is unafraid to find a stranger. She finds another girl leaning up against a wall, watching the party progress. Maura narrows in on her prey and approaches.
“Hello,” Maura says and leans against the wall beside her. The girl is moderately pretty but plain.
“Hi,” the girl says bashfully.
They exchange further pleasantries and Maura tries a few times to find a suitable topic to distract herself…and find a way to make Jane notice Maura’s diverted attention. It’s petty and Neolithic but Maura also knows it to be incredibly effective.
After some false starts, Maura finally stumbles onto a topic that leads the girl to launch into a lengthy dissertation on class availability. As the girl prattles on distractedly, Maura uses the opportunity to scan for Jane in the crowd. The party has started to grow, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to pick out anyone at all.
But when the sea of college students part, she eyes a confident posture, dark, wavy hair and a backwards baseball hat on the other side of the room. Jane is talking to one of her jock friends (ROTC friends?). Maura watches Jane smile half-heartedly at her friend before Maura redirects her attention to the girl in front of her. When Maura reenters the conversation and picks up the thread, Maura realizes the girl has shifted to BCU professors. Maura mentally checks back out and her gaze flicks back to Jane. Jane’s dark eyes find Maura’s without hesitation as if they already knew where to look. Maura feels pinned by Jane’s attention as her gaze roves down Maura’s body.
Beneath Jane’s distant scrutiny and the full effect of the alcohol, Maura’s single-minded determination craves to get Jane’s attention more overtly. She didn’t fabricate Jane’s interest in her. She can feel it meandering down her body. She can feel it in the darkness of her stare.
So Maura runs her hand through her hair and casually turns her chin in Jane’s direction. When she is sure Jane is watching, she bites her bottom lip slowly. Wantonly. When Jane’s lips part, Maura tosses her hair over her shoulder exposing her waiting neck (again, a primitive invitation but possibly, hopefully, an effective one) and returns her focus to the girl in front of her.
Knowing she’s still being studied, Maura leans into the girl and touches her arm casually. She nods and smiles emphatically pretending to be entertained. But more than anything, she needs Jane to take the bait. She isn’t sure how much more subtle she’ll have the patience to be if she doesn’t.
But off the corner of her eye, Maura notices Jane withdraw from her conversation and wade through the sea of students as she makes her way across the room. Maura’s jaw clenches as she becomes aware of Jane moving toward her. Maura purposefully does not look at her, does not look away from the mild girl before her. But her mind becomes a hazy buzz of anticipation. She’s no longer hearing anything other than the steady thud of her heart beat. Jane disappears briefly.
Then she appears suddenly at Maura’s side. She reaches her arm out to brace her hand against the wall behind Maura and bends at the waist to press her lips against Maura’s ear.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Jane rasps. She doesn’t pull away as she waits for her response.
“Yes.” Maura nods, agreeing without thinking.
Maura excuses herself from the girl, interrupting her mid-sentence, when Jane grabs her hand and leads her to the door. Maura looks from their clasped hands to Jane as she follows her to the door. If Jane is straight, she’s very bad at pretending to be.
“Babe! Where you going?” Casey yells from the kitchen table. He had apparently found his companions and had taken up the table again.
“Just out. I’ll be back later.” Jane dismisses, waving him off, as she pulls open the front door. She does not let go of Maura’s hand.
And she doesn’t let go of her hand until they’re in the parking lot. Jane picks a direction for their impromptu stroll and they set off on their walk. Maura’s relief at being able to distance herself from the pounding of the music and the general commotion of the party is palpable. She takes a deep centering breath of the night air. If nothing else, she’s thankful to Jane for the reprieve.
Maura takes her phone out of her pocket and texts Susie quickly that she’s going on a walk with Jane and that she’ll see her later. Maura tucks the phone back into her pocket before waiting for the reply then quickly matches stride with Jane who is oddly silent. Maura’s thoughts run in a million directions as she tries to narrow on a topic of conversation. But it was Jane’s idea for the walk. Maybe she had a topic in mind. Maura bites her tongue and waits.
Jane and Maura meander down the sidewalk outside the building and around toward other buildings in the complex. They’re walking for some minutes, their building of origination long out of sight, when they pass in front of a grassy courtyard with a gazebo. Jane diverts them toward the gazebo and steps onto it. Maura follows. Jane turns to her, her lips are pursed but her eyes are intent. Maura pauses.
“Maura, I’m going to kiss you, ok?” Jane says quietly.
Maura nods. “Ok.” She manages to get out. But her breath hitches in excitement.
Jane closes the distance, her footfalls echoing on the hollow bottom of the gazebo. Then her lips are on Maura’s. She’s cupping Maura’s face so gently, Maura can hardly correlate her tenderness of this moment with the gruff yet flirty tomboy she had been earlier.
Maura takes a sharp intake of breath at how soft Jane’s lips are. She lays her hands on the small of Jane’s waist, her oversized t-shirt bunching beneath her fingers. The kiss is singular but intentional. Jane doesn’t escalate it further (despite Maura wishing she would).
Then all too soon, Jane is retreating. But she’s biting her lip and as Maura stares at the dimple her incisor is making in her lip, Maura has the overwhelming desire to bite it too.
Jane’s chest is heaving as she watches her, measuring her response, weighing any trepidation. Maura can’t fathom how Jane seems unsure about that kiss. Maura wants to put her mind at ease.
“Jane,” Maura breathes. “I’m going to kiss you again, alright?”
Jane’s eyes widen, a playful grin grows slowly up the corners of her mouth. Maura takes the three steps forward and presses her body against Jane’s as she grips onto Jane’s shirt and pulls her in.
This time, Maura escalates their kiss immediately. Her mouth opens and Jane’s head tilts as her hands grip tight onto Maura’s hips. Maura holds onto her tighter, encouraged by Jane’s response. When Jane’s tongue sweeps across her lip, Maura’s tongue responds and comes out to play.
Maura’s hands reach up and wrap around the nape of Jane’s neck as their tongues slowly weave and dance together. Jane pulls away to reposition and kiss her again, her lips barely leaving Maura’s for half a second before finding them again. Maura tips into the kiss further, her hands moving south to grab onto Jane’s shirt again.
If the heat Maura feels between her thighs is any indication, Jane is exceptionally good at kissing her. Then Jane’s fingers are reaching beneath her mesh shirt and touching her skin and Maura is suddenly riveted by the idea of finding out what else Jane is good at. Maura lets out something between a sigh and a moan into Jane’s mouth.
And she abruptly remembers Jane is off limits.
Maura breaks the kiss at once and steps back. She covers her swollen mouth with her hand. “I don’t understand.” Maura says breathlessly.
Jane is equally winded. “Which part?”
“The part where you have a boyfriend.”
Jane runs her hand through her hair. “It’s complicated.”
“Uncomplicate it for me.” Maura says simply.
“I’m going to break up with him. It’s…he’s…suffocating.” Jane says with regret and looks away.
Maura considers and assesses her for sincerity. It’s all there. Jane’s honesty, her sadness. And when Jane looks up at her, her hope. Maura doesn’t want to pressure her. After all, she isn’t expecting a relationship with her. She’d settle for another heated kiss and her number. Studying Jane now, Maura is more sure than ever that Jane won’t be warming her bed this evening. There are too many variables and far too much standing between them and a quiet place to fuck in private.
A smile quirks up the corner of Maura’s mouth. She’s resolved to let her plans for the evening slide. She is having pleasant enough time just playing with Jane on this late summer night.
“Should we walk?” Maura asks finally. Despite ending up right where she had wanted to be with Jane (at least half way there anyway), Maura would rather get to know Jane in this moment.
Jane agrees. They step off the gazebo and back onto the sidewalk. After a moment, Jane brushes her shoulder into Maura’s.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jane says with a smile.
“You have not.” Maura nudges her back.
“I have! Ever since you said ‘hi’ to me in the kitchen.” Jane grins wide.
Maura chuckles at the memory. “I thought you were going to pour the whole bottle of vodka into your cup if I didn’t stop you.”
“I probably would have!” Jane says through a laugh.
As they walk their earlier reticence subsides and they talk. They get to know each other. They share both trite and intimate details of their lives as they are, what they were, and what they hope they’ll be. Jane is a Criminal Justice major with a minor in Social Work. She hopes to be a district attorney in Boston one day. Maura is an Organic Chemistry major with a minor in Forensics. She is headed off to medical school next year with dreams of becoming a Medical Examiner.
Their conversation turns to graduation and all the things they’ll miss about BCU…and things they won’t miss. Which spirals into one hilarious recollection after another of mishaps and misgivings about classroom conditions and various staff members. Each memory piles onto another and leaves them bent over with laughter. Maura discovers that she very much likes to laugh with Jane.
When they’ve made two circles around the complex, Maura looks at her watch. It’s getting late. She pulls her phone from her pocket. She has three messages from Susie and one from Kent.
The first two from Susie are general exclamations of excitement with far too many exclamation points. Maura chuckles all the same. The latest message is from ten minutes ago. She is announcing their intention to leave the party soon and they wanted to know if Maura was finished ‘getting it on with Jane’. Maura clicks her phone off hastily hoping Jane hadn’t seen the message.
Maura glances sidelong at Jane who had most certainly seen the message. Her smug smile says as much.
“I should be heading back.” Maura says and turns toward Jane fully.
Jane turns to her and steps closer.
“Can I see you again?” Jane asks warmly. She reaches out and curls their fingers together.
“Jane,” Maura warns but she makes no move to step away.
“Maura,” Jane insists and steps closer still. Maura purrs hearing her name on Jane’s lips.
“Why don’t you call me when you break up with Casey.” Maura says matter of fact but she’s trying to bite back her smile.
“What if I wanted to call you before?” Jane replies temptingly as she steps closer, her body pressing gently against Maura’s. She grips Maura’s chin between her thumb and the knuckle of her forefinger.
“What if he catches you?” Maura asks in a low tone.
“It’ll be doing me a favor.” Jane kisses her then. Her lips are confident and sure. Maura melts into her, kissing her back with the intensity of someone unsure whether she’ll see this woman again. If the spell of the evening breaks as soon as she walks away, she’ll at least have this moment with Jane. This kiss.
When Maura breaks the kiss again, Jane pulls her back in hungrily like a woman intent on getting her fill. Maura wraps her arms around Jane’s waist as Jane cups her face. When Jane relaxes her hold on her but doesn’t step away, Maura peers up at her. Jane’s dark brown eyes look almost black in the dim light of the street lamps. Maura is a mere inch from her lips, she could close the distance if she wanted to. And oh, does she want to. She bites her lip instead.
“Give me your number.” Jane demands softly with a smirk.
Maura smiles wide. Then nods.
“Give me your phone then.” Maura retorts. Like they’re challenging each other to a duel with no stakes. Jane extracts her phone from her back pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to Maura.
When Maura reaches for it, her fingers graze Jane’s. She doesn’t bother to look up to see Jane’s reaction. It was intentional. She types her number onto the keypad unconcerned, assigns it a name, then gives her phone back.
“‘Maura: the hot Organic Chem Major’?” Jane reads the name Maura had just typed from her phone.
“I don’t know how many Maura’s you know but I do know all the Organic Chem Majors at BCU and I am fairly certain no others would fall under that category.” Maura says haughtily. Jane laughs.
“Of that, I have no doubt. And you’re the only ‘Maura’ I’m interested in knowing.” Jane replies cheekily.
Maura rolls her eyes. But she’s chastened by Jane’s easy flirtation. She has never been able to exchange quips so easily with someone. No one has been able to keep up with her so seamlessly. Maura smiles and doesn’t stop until they get back to the apartment party.
Casey swarms them when they step through the door and Maura’s face falls. She glances up at Jane. The playful and charming woman she’s been getting to know for the last hour disappears in an instant. Maura retreats to Susie’s side. They make their escape a few minutes later. As they leave, Maura tries to catch Jane’s eye, make one last connection with her before leaving, but she’s under a barrage of Casey’s reprimands. Jane doesn’t look at her. Maura follows Susie and Kent out into the night air. She tries not to be disappointed.
* * *
An hour later Maura tosses and turns in bed. Jane hadn’t looked at her when she left but Maura can’t get the feeling of Jane’s lips off her mind. Nor the feeling of her hands on her waist. Nor the way she left Maura craving more of her. Even without that last connection, Maura’s center pulses at the thought of feeling Jane against her.
She considers taking her vibrator from the drawer under her bed but thinks better of it. Instead, she reprimands herself for not getting Jane’s number. Jane had taken hers but Maura’s phone is still frustratingly void of Jane’s number and she hasn’t received a text or call from an unknown number since the exchange.
Just then, as Maura initiates a spiral of frustration, someone raps on her door quietly. It doesn’t sound like the typical drunken knock of someone finding the wrong room. It’s quiet, hesitant. Maura furrows her brow and checks her bedside clock. It’s two in the morning. Maura looks at the door again wondering if she even heard correctly. Just as another knock sounds again.
Maura steps out of bed and pulls her silk robe from the hook. She slides her arms through the sleeves but doesn’t bother to tie the front. The front panels drape carelessly over top of her breasts. Her silk nightdress underneath hardly leaves anything to the imagination. Maura doesn’t bother to find something more suitable. She fully expects to find a stumbling, drunken mistake waiting for her on the other side of the door. She’ll be able to dismiss them and go back to her ruminations. But when she opens her door, she doesn’t find a mistake on the other side.
“Jane,” Maura says in surprise as she studies the woman at her door. Jane has discarded the baseball hat and the Red Sox t-shirt for a black t-shirt and a black leather jacket. “H-how the hell did you find my room?” Maura manages to get out. Jane’s hands are braced on the outside frame of Maura’s door. She’s out of breath. She looks up at Maura from beneath her lashes.
“That’s what you wear to bed?” Jane teases but her eyes sweep down her body with desire. Were it a more timely hour, Maura might have closed her robe. As it so happens, it is not a timely hour. She leaves herself open to be examined.
“I asked you first.” Maura insists. Jane sighs.
“You told me your room faces the library and you were going to miss watching the sun rise over the books. That way you can scope out your favorite study spot on the third floor. Which…places you in Macmillin Hall on the west side and either the 2nd or 3rd floor.”
“You’re not studying to be a detective by chance, are you?” Maura says flatly though she’s impressed by both her ability to listen and her skills of deduction.
Jane chuckles then drops her hands from the doorframe and steps closer. “I knocked on a lot of doors.” Jane admits softly with a shy smile.
Maura can’t keep the smile from her lips at the admission. She relaxes her hold on the door handle and slides her palm up the edge of the door.
“And yes, Jane, this is what I wear to bed.” She assesses Jane again. “Like it?” Maura can’t help but flirt with her. She is finding it borderline pathological. Despite her misgivings.
“I love it.” Jane says flippantly. “I want to take it off of you.” She adds suggestively in a low voice and steps imperceptibly closer. Maura holds up a hand to keep her at bay.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” Maura asks darkly. She still remembers Casey crowding Jane with hostility at the door when they walked back into the party.
“With his buddies. I don’t know, he didn’t tell me. And I really don’t care.” Jane’s tone is rough and gravelly and nearly impossible to resist. Maura recalls Jane’s lips on hers again. She remembers the way her lips felt, the softness and the assertiveness. The possession. Maura’s lips part instinctively.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Maura says but she’s watching Jane’s lips.
“Then tell me you don’t want me to come in.” Jane rasps.
“I-I can’t do that.” Maura replies softly. She had never been able to lie. But she wouldn’t have even if she could.
“Then I have a proposition.” Jane steps into the threshold. Maura doesn’t back away. Which Maura discovers quickly is a mistake. Jane is only inches from her and staring down at her hungrily. Maura’s resolve is becoming paper thin. Much like the silk barrier of her nightgown. She can feel her nipples harden against the fabric.
Jane continues. “You let me come in and spend the night. If you never want to see me again after I’m finished then you can tell me to fuck off and that’ll be the end of it.” Jane says smugly.
“You’re awfully confident in your prowess with pleasing a woman for someone dating a man.”
“You’re really not going to let that go, are you?”
Maura shakes her head slowly with a smirk. “Not in the slightest.”
Jane grins wide and steps into her room completely then presses her body against Maura’s as her hands reach up to cup her face. Maura releases her hold on the door and it slides closed behind them. Maura’s hands find Jane’s waist beneath her leather jacket as Jane backs her into the room. And Maura’s resolve shatters.
Then Jane’s lips are on hers and Maura is clutching Jane to her. Her lips are just as soft as she remembers. Jane’s lips part and Maura opens to her. Maura swallows Jane’s breath thirstily like she’s never had anything so delicious. Jane backs her against the bed and she collapses back onto it.
Jane stands above her with a smirk as Maura leans back on her palms. Jane runs her hands up Maura’s thighs then spreads them wide. Her nightgown rides up her thighs to her hips. Jane leans over her and kisses up the inside of one thigh as her gentle touch caresses up the other.
Maura’s eyes close as her head tips back and her mouth drops open. Jane kisses up the crease of her thigh, then to her hip, her abdomen. She pauses before her breast and Maura looks down at her as Jane’s eyes find hers. Jane’s hand grips her ribs gently and her thumb grazes the underside of Maura’s other breast as if asking for permission. Maura nods vigorously.
Jane’s mouth closes over Maura’s nipple over top of her silk nightgown. Maura can feel Jane’s tongue lapping over the tight bud. Maura breathes thickly, her body alight with Jane’s sure touch. Then Jane pulls on the bodice of the dress, revealing her breast entirely and Jane closes her mouth around her nipple, her tongue languidly rolling back and forth. Maura’s resulting moan at having Jane’s mouth on her finally is completely visceral after her earlier ruminations. When Jane bites down gently, then her tongue sweeps back over to sooth the impact, Maura sucks in a breath through her teeth. But the result is pulsing between her thighs unrelentingly.
Maura grips onto the collar of Jane’s leather jacket and hauls her upward. Jane releases her only to drop her parted and waiting lips onto Maura’s. Maura fists her fingers into the collar of the jacket holding Jane closer. In the next breath Maura releases her hold and pushes the jacket from Jane’s shoulders. She will no longer be needing it. The impact has been made.
Jane sits up halfway and pulls the jacket off completely and tosses it to the floor. Then Jane is reaching for Maura and pulling her up to a sitting position. She deftly slides her hands beneath the lapels of the robe and pushes her hands down Maura’s arms beneath the sleeves. The robe falls off Maura’s shoulders and onto the bed. Once freed, Maura pushes her hands into Jane’s wild hair just as Jane finds Maura’s lips again and lays her back onto the bed.
Jane kisses her ravenously, her tongue making a broad stroke into her mouth. Maura’s converges across the expanse of their mouths and meets Jane’s vigor with fervor. One of Jane’s hands moves languidly down her body, sliding down the side of her breast, down her ribs, her hip, then rounding to her center as her fingers reach beneath the hem of her silk nightdress. Maura spreads her legs to admit her. Jane’s fingers are careful as they spread her open. Jane suspends their kiss to watch her instead, as if she is seeking the pleasure of watching her break. Maura looks into her eyes unflinchingly. The tips of Jane’s fingers slide around the perimeter of Maura’s labia majora, she doesn’t touch the sensitive (pulsing) bundle of nerves at the apex. Maura suspects that’s on purpose.
Jane’s fingers expertly dance around Maura’s outer lips until Maura’s chest is heaving and her hips thrust desirously into Jane’s hand. Jane’s fingers dip down into Maura’s wet center and circle her opening tantalizingly. Maura’s brow furrows as she mewls in want. Jane holds her gaze and doesn’t let go as her fingers swirl at her entrance. Maura’s mewls turn to whimpers. She wants, no, needs more.
As if hearing her demand, Jane’s torturously circling fingers find their way up Maura’s center and over Maura’s clit where they meander over and over her. Maura’s eyes shut as she throws her head back and moans with the blessed relief of her touch. Jane’s fingers whirl overtop of her clit in slow even strokes. It’s absolutely torture and yet it’s already getting Maura close.
Then Jane’s fingers are gone and she’s moving away from her, Maura watches Jane move down her body and settle between her legs. She looks up at Maura and Maura has no words. Her mind screams yes, yes, yes, yes but her open mouth only has room for her ragged breath. When Jane smirks, Maura bites her bottom lip in anticipation.
God yes, please, Jane.
She closes her mouth over top of Maura’s clit and makes a long torturous, glorious, pass over the now very activated bundle of nerves. Maura moans again. She’s making no effort to quiet herself. She doesn’t have a roommate and she doesn’t particularly care for her neighbors. Let them hear her having a good time.
Jane’s tongue does wonders over her clit, making even strokes and slowly increasing her pace with every passing moment. As Maura’s breathing increases, so too do Jane’s ministrations. What seems like abominably long minutes later, Maura’s at the precipice of her orgasm. Jane’s fingers tighten on her thighs as her tongue beckons that climax to tumble over the edge.
Maura’s body shakes with the imminency of it. Her breaths are coming in sharp, high pitched cries. Jane’s tongue presses against her more firmly and swipes with intentional voracity. It’s enough. Maura’s orgasm crashes through her with a vengeance. Her hips buck into Jane on reflex, her back arching, but Jane holds her steady as she continues measured pressure against her clit. Maura’s orgasm carries and carries until finally it subsides and her hips drop back to the bed.
When Jane doesn’t relent, she pushes her away gently. Jane chuckles and releases her. She leans the side of her face against the inside of Maura’s thigh. Maura tries to catch her breath. She pushes a shaking hand into her hair in an attempt to regain her sense of composure. She has absolutely none left.
Jane turns into her thigh and plants a lingering (wet) kiss there then gets up and pulls a tissue from the side table and wipes her chin. Maura watches her closely, studying her face, the line of her shoulders, the way she moved within her space. Jane turns to her and tilts her head with a smug grin as if coming to a conclusion.
“Do you want another one?”
“Mmm,” Maura hums with a satisfied smile. “Perhaps. But you first.” Maura props herself up on her elbows. Jane inclines her head and her smug grin turns feral. She takes a step toward the bed and Maura holds up a hand to stop her. Jane halts. Maura’s Cheshire grin widens.
“Shirt.” She says succinctly. It should be removed.
Jane hesitates and cocks her head in challenge. “What if I make you take it off me instead?”
“Then this will be a very long night because I believe I asked you first.”
“You just said, shirt. That’s not a question.” Jane objects.
“The request was implied.” Maura fires back.
“How about a trade?” Jane counters.
“I’m listening.”
“You take my shirt. I’ll take my pants.”
“Alright, I accept.” Maura sits up and swings her legs over the side of the bed. She spreads her knees out wide letting Jane see the results of her work between her thighs. Jane’s eyes dive to Maura’s open, soaked center.
Maura lets her stare for an extended moment before prompting her. “Come here before I change my mind and make you take everything off yourself while I watch.”
This snaps Jane out of her reverie. She prowls forward and bends at the waist, leaning into Maura’s space, as she plants her hands on the bed just outside of Maura’s hips. It’s takes every ounce of Maura’s control not to close the centimeters between them and kiss her.
“You think I’d give in that easily?” Jane rebuts in a low tone.
“I think you might if it gets you what you want.”
“Maybe all I wanted was to hear you come.” Jane retorts with a grin. The deep timber of her voice and the words hear you come makes Maura’s center clench in renewed arousal. But Maura hears the statement for what it is and she’s surprised to find that despite the playful nature of their banter, Jane’s actually being truthful. She’s content with only getting Maura off.
“Then I concede.” Maura cannot win if Jane already got what she wanted. But Maura hasn’t gotten what she wants. She presses a hand against Jane’s shoulder to give herself room as she stands. In concession and adherence to their little agreement, Maura lifts Jane’s shirt from her body. Jane’s sports bra poses an interesting barrier as Maura is intimately familiar with the difficulties of removal. Maura tosses Jane’s shirt over the back of her desk chair.
Jane steps back and unbuttons and unzips her jeans. She catches Maura’s eye and pushes them from her hips. They drop to the floor in a heap. Jane waits. Something about Jane’s stance, about the way she’s watching her, says she’s simply allowing Maura take the lead. Maura is not in control. And she’s surprised to find that she does not wish to be.
In spite of herself, Maura smirks and grabs for her waist. Jane steps forward into her embrace and Maura kisses her again. Jane sets the pace as if it’s a compulsion to do so. Maura follows willingly and enthusiastically. When Jane’s lips open, so do Maura’s. When she tilts, taking the kiss deeper, Maura follows. Then Jane is pushing her back onto the bed. Maura lies against the disheveled sheets as Jane leans over her and reengages their make-out. Their breaths mingle, tongues collide, then Jane’s hand is traveling again, sinking lower along Maura’s body. Maura grabs her wrist quickly.
“It’s my turn.” Maura says against her lips then nips at Jane’s swollen bottom lip.
Jane grins but doesn’t move. Maura pushes against her shoulder and Jane let’s herself be prodded. She falls onto her side as Maura presses herself up from the bed to lean over Jane. Maura kisses her again then kisses down her chin, her neck, her chest, her stomach until she reaches the waistband of Jane’s boy shorts. She lifts the fabric and looks up at Jane: a request. Jane grins and lays her head back to the bed. Maura proceeds.
She pulls the boy shorts from Jane’s waist, pushing them down her thighs where Jane kicks them off the rest of the way. Jane tents one leg, her knee upraised and Maura runs her nails down the offered inner thigh. Jane hisses through her teeth in pleasure. Maura wraps her hand around the outside of Jane’s thigh then kisses down the inside.
When her lips meet the crease of her leg, she laps up the already formidable wetness she finds along the outside of her labia majora. Jane makes a whimpering sound from deep in her chest. Maura smiles to herself and proceeds.
Her tongue makes a trail along the outside lip but doesn’t tip inside. Until Jane’s upraised knee falls away, her other leg arcing outward, leaving Jane open and waiting. Maura knows an invitation when she sees one. She closes her mouth over Jane’s center and licks a long line upward. Jane’s groan of pleasure is like music to her ears. Maura circles her clit only a few times before dropping down into Jane’s wet heat and sinking her tongue as far as it will go inside her.
Jane arches off the bed and moans again. Maura’s grip tightens around her thighs as she rounds back up and around her clit. Maura would like to say she is patient and as torturous as Jane was with her. But she is not patient, not with the taste of Jane in her mouth. She wants to hear the sound of Jane’s undoing just as voraciously as Jane had apparently wanted to hear hers.
Her tongue whirls around her, motivated by every sigh and moan from Jane’s lips. Maura at least remembers once or twice to slow the pace, to redirect her tongue’s attention to other sensitive places along Jane’s center. But Maura is always right back where Jane responds most. Her tongue dances merrily over Jane’s swollen clit as Maura can hear her orgasm near with every surging breath.
When Jane’s back arches, Maura presses her tongue against her, swirling her tongue wildly, seeking to push her over the edge. Jane’s panting becomes hurried and urgent. Maura doesn’t relent until Jane cries out abruptly with her release. Jane’s hand closes around the back of Maura’s head and fists into her hair. Which only spurs Maura on. Maura grips on tighter, her fingers dimpling into Jane’s thighs as she continues her attentions.
Jane’s climax finds new heights and launches off again, her cries becoming more high pitched than Maura thought possible. And she likes it. She likes to hear the shrieks that she has compelled out of the tough, tomboy beneath her.
Then Jane’s body goes slack and a rabid Maura must be pushed away. Maura hums deep in her chest in satisfaction but relents. She rolls onto her side and pulls a tissue from the bedside table to wipe her chin before rolling into Jane’s side.
Jane wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her against her. They lay like that for long minutes. Perhaps longer than Maura even realizes as she opens her eyes and looks up at her bedside clock. It’s almost three in the morning. She sighs deeply and nestles back into Jane’s side, getting comfortable.
“Oh no, I’m not finished with you yet.” Jane sits up and rolls Maura onto her back so she can lean over her.
“Jane, I couldn’t. I’m too tired.” Maura laments. But her clit is already pulsing, her core thrumming.
“Ok, try to go to sleep then.” Jane dares her as she drifts down Maura’s body. Maura’s legs separate of their own volition and as Jane positions herself between her thighs again, she meets Maura’s eye then licks a long, self-indulgent line up her center without looking away.
Maura’s head tips back as if pulled on a string of arousal and moans rather loudly. Jane doesn’t stop. And Maura doesn’t go to sleep for another two hours after Jane has left her panting and utterly spent from two more orgasms.
When they both collapse onto the bed hours later, Jane interrogates her about whether she had earned the right to stay the rest of the night. With a chuckle, Maura agrees that Jane had been correct, she was proficient…and tireless. And had duly earned the privilege of the sleepover. After they clean themselves up, Maura crawls back into bed beside Jane and tucks herself into her side as Jane wraps her arm around her. Then proceeds to have the best sleep of her life.