Split the Aces Read online

  “Was it like last time, when I saw you?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Barely a whisper.

  “Tell me.”

  It didn’t matter that they should be talking about Kel’s offer, the band, the possibility of Cori’s moving, or what waited for her if she did. All she needed was Rae’s confession.

  “I thought about leaving. It was too loud, too smoke-filled, too crowded.”

  Rae’s reasoning didn’t ring true. She worked in that exact environment every night and loved it. There had to be more to her wanting to leave than she was sharing.

  “Go on,” Cori prompted.

  “Then I ran into…” A long pause, then a cautious, “Do you want to know her name?”

  The careful consideration, a lesson learned, touched Cori. “Yes, tell me.”

  “Sharon. She was there with her girlfriend, Dar.”

  “Describe them.”

  “Dar has a shaved head. Sharon is tall. Fake California tan. Long blond hair. Tiny waist and perfect gravity-defying tits.”

  Probably also fake. “Did you touch them?” Cori asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What did her girlfriend do?”

  “Watched.”

  “Tell me.”

  “We found a room, the three of us, and barely made it inside. Dar half stripped on the way up the stairs. She had Sharon’s shirt open and her panties off before I could close the door behind us.”

  Cori laid back, her head on the arm of her couch, and pulled her T-shirt up. Her nipples were hard.

  “Sharon had on a black lace bra,” Rae said. “I wanted to bite my way through it, but I was behind her, kissing her neck. I squeezed and pinched her nipples. The lace was soft.”

  “Did she like it?” Cori pictured Rae’s fingers working her own nipples to straining attention. “Did you like it?”

  “She moaned.” Rae’s breathing accelerated. “I like your breasts better. They’re soft and real. I wish I was there now with my mouth on you. I’d suck you until you screamed.”

  “Did you kiss her?”

  “Yes.” Rae groaned. “Fuck-me red lipstick. I smeared it. Her lips tasted sweet from too much wine. I prefer yours. Yours are luscious. I could kiss you all day and taste your breath and never get enough.”

  “Did you fuck her?” God, Cori didn’t want to know the answer but she needed to. She squeezed her breasts, rolling the nipples between her thumb and fore finger. “Was she wet?”

  “Dripping. But I didn’t fuck her. I wanted you, not her.”

  Cori growled. The memory of Rae watching her the first night in Vegas was hot in her mind, urging her hands lower. She could feel Rae’s breath on her thighs as she breathed her in. The desperation. “Did you leave her wanting?”

  “I held her open and stroked her clit while Dar tongue-fucked her.”

  “Oh, God.”

  “I was behind her. Sucking her throat…biting her ear…talking to her. And her girlfriend was on her knees, knuckle-deep inside her, licking her clit and jerking herself off at the same time.”

  Cori worked her clit, flicking her fingers over it with driving relentless rhythm. Rae’s voice and her own knowing touch had brought her dangerously close to climax. “What did you say?”

  “I don’t remember. I wanted you, my hands on you, your tongue in my mouth, your sweat on my skin.”

  “Are you touching yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you come with her?”

  Rae’s answer came swiftly. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “She wasn’t you.”

  “Are you coming now?”

  “Yes,” Rae gasped.

  Cori exploded. Rae’s soft groans matched her own. The color in the room seeped to black, then swirled into focus in a hail of pinpoint light. Rae’s ragged breathing held Cori, their only connection through the phone.

  “How do you do that?” Rae sounded spent.

  Cori laughed, proud of herself. “You’re easy.”

  “Pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

  Cori was. Earlier that night, Rae had been alone with two willing women. They couldn’t make her come like Cori could with only a few words, some shared memories, and several hundred miles between them. Sadness filtered in, replacing the warm afterglow. Was this what life with Rae would be like if they tried to be together in Las Vegas? Rae’s transgression followed by confession? Was Rae capable of commitment and exclusivity? Or would Cori be resigning herself to a life of better-than-what’s-her-name fucks? That wasn’t good enough.

  “Cori, I really miss you,” Rae’s voice was hoarse.

  It seemed the only thing left to say between them.

  “I know, Rae. I miss you, too.”

  Cori ended the call without a promise to speak again. She couldn’t continue like this, barely recovering only to tear the scab off and open herself to the loss all over again.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cori choked down a handful of aspirin, her answer to the thrumming in her head. God knows, she deserved the killer headache but that didn’t mean she had to embrace it. A simple glass of water before she fell asleep would have held it at bay, preventing the alcohol from dehydrating her body. But rather than getting up after talking to Rae, she’d lain there until she fell asleep. Her body throbbed with a satisfying after-orgasm hum, but her heart ached with loss.

  This was ridiculous. Rae couldn’t give her what she wanted. Even if she did accept the gig and move to Las Vegas, Rae wouldn’t stop being a party-hard playgirl. That would never be enough to satisfy Cori. She needed to move on. Her cell phone blinked at her. Someone had left another voice mail while she was on the phone with Rae and too busy to switch over. Cori wanted to crawl back in bed and hide from the day. Instead she pushed the button to collect her message.

  “Cor, it’s Julie. If you don’t call me soon, I’m going to assume you’ve been kidnapped by aliens and report it to the National Enquirer. Seriously. Call me.”

  Cori dialed and held the phone a few inches from her ear. The grating ringing noise hurt her sound-sensitive head.

  “You’re alive.” Julie greeted her far too cheerfully.

  Cori pressed her fingers to her temple. “Easy does it. I’ve got a thumping headache.”

  “That’ll do. What are you doing tonight?”

  Cori had planned to stay in, call it an early night, and catch up on reading and sleeping. Not necessarily in that order. “Nothing much.”

  “Come out with me on a double date.”

  Cori groaned. “No, I hate blind dates.”

  “I know, but I’ve dated Lisa a few times and met her friend Gretchen. She’s nice. Totally your type. It’ll be fun.”

  Julie’s version of totally Cori’s type meant single and breathing. To her, any available lesbian was a good one. It didn’t matter if she was psycho-stalker crazy woman known to have U-Haul on speed dial. In fact, the trait rated higher on Julie’s scorecard than commitment-phobic players like Rae.

  “Come on, Cori.” Julie’s voice bordered on whiny. “It’s a low-pressure evening. Dinner, that’s it. Maybe karaoke afterward. Please.”

  “Julie…”

  “You can’t say no. Lisa already told Gretchen you’ll be there.”

  “Fuck.”

  Cori thought about hanging up. Fuck Lisa, a woman she didn’t know. And fuck her unsponsored promise to Gretchen, a woman she didn’t want to know. But if she stayed in tonight, she was destined for a repeat of last night. Too much rum and Rae talking her through a shattering orgasm. Wallowing wouldn’t help her get over it. She needed a distraction from the fairytale and Julie was offering a night out.

  “Is that a yes?” Julie pressed.

  “Yes, all right. Fine. What time?”

  *

  The doorbell sounded as Cori ran the brush through her hair one last time. The light sundress she’d chosen would not be enough to fight off the cool April air, but her heart, which was still in the desert, wou
ldn’t let her choose another outfit. She settled a sweater around her shoulders and answered the door with a forced smile.

  A woman with short, sandy brown hair held out a bouquet of white daisies wrapped in crinkly red paper. “Hi, you must be Cori.” She grinned, dimples and all. “I’m Gretchen.”

  “Thanks.” Cori took the flowers and invited her in. “Let me just put these in water then we can go.”

  “Cool. Julie said you like flowers. I hope these are okay.”

  “They’re beautiful.” Just not from Rae. And not tulips and lilies. Perhaps that was a good thing. Daisies sent a different message: Keep it simple. “It was very sweet of you to think of it.”

  “No problem.” Gretchen pushed her hands into the pockets of her baggy Levi’s while she waited.

  Cori moved the flowers to a vase with minimum fuss, not taking the time to trim the stems or arrange the blossoms. The niceties could wait until later, when she didn’t have a North Face–wearing, outdoorsy dyke watching from her living room.

  “That’s it. We can go.” She ushered Gretchen out, pausing briefly to lock the deadbolt. “What’s on the agenda?”

  “Dinner at The Wildrose. We’ll see from there.”

  The suggestion in Gretchen’s voice was not lost on Cori. It was clear that, in the brief minutes they’d known each other, Gretchen had decided sex was on the menu if Cori was interested. Cori stiffened when Gretchen’s hand landed gently on her back as they made their way to the car.

  The drive to The Wildrose was short and quiet. Cori was grateful. Small talk with Julie was one thing, but she wasn’t up for playing nice with strangers. What had she been thinking when she agreed to come out tonight? She made sure she walked a few steps away from her “date” as they approached the familiar venue.

  “Have you been here before?” Gretchen asked as she held the door for Cori.

  “Of course.” Every dyke in Seattle had been to the Rose.

  “I love this place.” Gretchen offered a devilish smile that only made Cori miss Rae more.

  “Yeah,” Julie chimed in from among the women gathered just inside the entrance. “The food is awesome and the service is great.”

  She wasn’t wrong about the service. It was still early on Saturday night and before the door closed behind them, a menu-carrying hostess greeted them and led them to an open table in the corner. It was secluded with taper candles providing the limited light. Cori ordered rum with ice and a dash of lime. She needed all the help she could get to loosen up and make it through the night. A fruity umbrella drink just wouldn’t cut it.

  “Straight rum?” Julie nudged her. “Rough week?”

  Cori shrugged. “I saw my parents on Wednesday. Still trying to recover.”

  Gretchen squeezed her knee. “That does it for me every time.”

  The restaurant offered a simple menu, with smoked ham and mac, a popular favorite according to the waiter. Cori craved pizza with fresh basil and rosemary, dough tossed new for every order. She smiled, agreed to the pasta, and asked for another rum. The first one would be gone all too soon.

  The conversation stalled uncomfortably between placing the order and dinner arriving.

  After several minutes of silent contemplation of her lime wedge, Cori asked, “So, Gretchen, what do you do? Julie didn’t say.” She might as well try to have a good time.

  “I own Hike N Dyke. You ever hear of it?”

  With the exception of one memorable visit to the Hoover Dam, Cori was not much for the outdoors. “No, what do you do there?”

  “Sell hiking and camping gear, as well as coordinate lesbian-only camping trips. You should come some time.”

  “Yeah, it’s a blast.” Lisa kissed Julie. “You’d like it, hon. Making love under the stars.”

  Thankfully, the waiter arrived with their food so Cori didn’t have to hear Julie’s views on sex in the wilderness.

  “Remember what happened last time?” Gretchen smiled.

  For the first time her face was filled with genuine happiness instead of the polite lesbian-on-the-make grins Cori had witnessed so far. She could be friends with someone with a smile like that. She swirled her rum, tuning out the conversation around her. Once lesbians got talking about wilderness adventures, the anecdotes never stopped coming. She didn’t really care what happened when the skunk wandered through camp, sending everyone into a panic.

  One hour, a plate of cheesy pasta, and three rums later, dinner was blissfully over. Gretchen’s stories—each including at least one reference to her dog, a tent, and a pair of hiking shoes—appeared to be winding down. Still, Cori was caught off guard when Gretchen asked what she did for a living.

  All eyes were on her and she thought hard about her uncertain future. “Oh, I’m a massage therapist. I work with Julie.”

  Gretchen looked pointedly at her hands. “So, you know how to use your fingers?”

  Cori barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. Somehow, the same lines Rae had used were offensive here in the real world. Or maybe it was the delivery. Or, more likely, the deliverer.

  “Fortunately, I’m not the best one to ask about that.” She smiled mysteriously, hoping Gretchen would let it go at that.

  “Yeah, you should have seen Cori in Vegas.” Julie had to go there. “First day we’re poolside and she has a local dealer falling all over her.”

  Lisa pushed her plate away. “I love Vegas. Even if you don’t gamble, there’s so much to do.”

  “What was your favorite part, Cori?” Gretchen asked.

  This question gave her pause. The real answer—her favorite part was the time she spent with Rae—was not the answer others were looking for. She shrugged. “I enjoyed all of it.”

  “Cori tried out for a band.” Julie tipped her glass toward Cori. “Tell ’em about it, Cor.”

  “I think you have a better memory of it than I do. I’d had way too many of those blue drinks by the pool.”

  “You’re a singer?” Gretchen asked.

  Cori cursed herself for not being open to this woman. So far she’d been a perfect date. She brought flowers, opened the door, asked polite, probing questions. She’d made more than one suggestive overture, but they were adults. Women over thirty were known to have sex occasionally. Sometimes, if they were lucky, they made it with each other. She couldn’t fault Gretchen for making her wishes known. Yet, despite all the apparent pluses, she could not find any enthusiasm for Gretchen’s company.

  “I sing sometimes,” she replied damply, hoping the topic would lose its charm for her companions.

  “You never did tell me what they said about the audition,” Julie said. “They were supposed to get back to you.”

  The waiter dropped off the check, thankfully creating a diversion. Cori didn’t know what she was going to do with Kel’s offer, so why dwell on it?

  “What kind of music do you sing?” Lisa asked.

  “Oh, you should have heard this one song.” Julie fished her wallet out of her pocket. “What was it? The Nina Simone song?”

  “‘Since I Fell for You.’”

  “I love that song.” Gretchen slipped her card into the holder with the bill. “You should sing it for us.”

  Did Gretchen even know who Nina Simone was? Chalk up another reason to like her if she did. Julie was right. Gretchen might very well be perfect for her.

  Lisa squealed and clapped. “Yes. You have to. They have karaoke until nine. I bet you could get in.”

  Cori gulped down the last of her rum—her fourth—filling time until the waiter returned with Gretchen and Julie’s cards and receipts.

  Gretchen rose and offered her hand. Cori let herself be led into the lounge, pushing back thoughts of the last time she sang this song, with Rae huddled in the corner, trying not to be noticed. Cori had been surprised when Rae commented on it; her memory of the audition was hazy. But when she thought back now, she could picture the glow of a cigarette in the dim light. A lean figure in the shadows. Rae, watching her.

/>   Gretchen finished talking to the DJ and joined Cori at the table. “I can’t believe they actually have it. You’re up next.” After a brief hesitation, she took Cori’s hand.

  Cori smiled, letting her fingers lie limp in Gretchen’s. “Great.”

  Far too soon, the woman on stage finished dismantling “She Thinks My Tractor’s Sexy” and Cori was propelled to the front amidst good-natured hoots and whistles from her table mates. She stood, microphone in hand, willing the music not to start. Of course, it did and she surrendered to it. She couldn’t look at Gretchen as she sang. It seemed calloused and harsh to look at one woman while singing about another.

  She poured herself, her confusion, her desire, her burned out heart, into the words. When she finished, the room was silent. No clinking glasses. No rowdy bar laughter. Nothing. Every face stared up at her, mouths slightly open in beer-enhanced awe. Gretchen broke into the moment, her loud whistle piercing the tension.

  “Damn, you can sing,” she enthused as she walked Cori back to the table and held out her chair.

  Cori didn’t sit. “I need to go.” She gathered up her belongings and made apologies. “I’m sorry. I just remembered I have an early morning. You all stay. I’ll catch a cab.”

  She didn’t give them a choice as she rushed through her departure. She needed to get away, be alone with her thoughts of Rae. She didn’t want anyone else, so why even try?

  Gretchen chased her to the door. “Cori, wait.” She put her hand on her arm. “I enjoyed tonight and I’d like to do it again. Call me, okay?” She produced a business card and scribbled a number on it. “That’s my cell.”

  The look on Gretchen’s face said she wanted more than a hasty kiss on the cheek, but it was all Cori could manage. The parking lot was full of dykes out for a good time. Cori looked up at the night sky. The neon lights of Vegas seemed as far away as the stars above her, out of reach no matter how high she jumped.

  Rae’s love, Cori knew, would always be like that, just outside her grasp. Cori would drive her away, not draw her closer. Women like Rae couldn’t handle a lover who was desperate and clinging, and Cori could see herself hanging on that way. Not trusting that she was loved.