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Authors: Harper Bliss

BOOK: Summer's End
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“Yes, time…” Marianne repeated. “The one thing we don’t have.”

It was a difficult subject. One that Emily did’t even know should even be broached. The facts were simple and clear. The rest far from it.

“Do you ever go back to the UK?” She considered it a fair enough question, not too inappropriate.

“Only when I really have to, which is not very often.” She sipped from her beer before continuing. “Not more than once a year, just to check in with my family. To let them know I’m all right. People need to see for themselves once in a while, you know, otherwise they don’t believe you.”

Emily thought about the vast amount of unanswered e-mails from her mother in her inbox. She should e-mail back later today. She didn’t feel as resentful anymore.

“When was the last time?” She secretly hoped it had been more than a year.

“January. I usually go when the weather is most miserable. Just to wallow in it a bit. To feel really cold for once.” Marianne had been staring out into the horizon when speaking, but she now turned to face Emily. “What will you do when you get back?”

The unavoidable question. Emily had, first and foremost, run away from the fall-out of her failed engagement, but also from her professional future, which had been mapped out since the day she was born. “Become the solicitor I’m supposed to be, I guess.”

“You don’t sound very convinced.”
 

“It’s just such an inextricable part of the life I had to get away from for a bit. Not necessarily a part I hated, but everything is so intertwined. My family and Jasper’s family, they live and work and breathe in the same incestuous circles in London.” She hesitated before speaking next. “But I guess it’s too early for me to retire to a Thai island.”

“You’re so young, Emily. You literally have your entire life ahead of you. This is only the beginning…” A sadness had taken hold of Marianne’s voice.

“You’re only forty-one yourself. You have a whole lot of life to live too.” Emily didn’t take her eyes of Marianne. “Do you really plan to stay here for the rest of your days?”

“I wasn’t really looking ahead so much as to the past.” Marianne shrugged. “And what would I do? Go back to investing people’s money?” She shook her head. “When I was your age I believed money was everything and I became really good at making tons of it, until I realised it didn’t mean a thing.”

“Maybe, um, you could find another reason to go back?” Emily tried, her voice sounding smaller than she wanted it to.

Marianne managed a small smile. “Maybe I could.” She finished her beer, tossed it to the side and delved into the cooler for another. “Would you like one?”

Emily quickly drained hers, feeling as if she needed it, and nodded.

“I sold everything I had in the UK. Got rid of everything and bought the Lodge. Life is so cheap here, I could easily stay until the day I die and still have a nice sum left.” She was staring in front of her again, continuing in a musing tone. “What better way of life is there when you really think about it? No stress. No pressure. Sun. The ocean. No questions asked.”

Emily wondered if that was a request, but ignored it anyway. “On the surface, maybe. But don’t you want something more… meaningful?”

Marianne sighed before fixing her gaze on Emily again. “Not until now.” She swallowed hard. “Not until you came along.”

Heat crackled underneath Emily’s skin. It was what she had wanted to hear. It didn’t change anything fundamentally—nor practically—but she was melting again. “I, uh,” she stuttered. “I mean, you make me feel like the person I’ve always wanted to be. I know we’ve only just met, but, I just, I don’t know…”
 

“You wonder if there could be something more between us than a few romps on the beach?” It sounded almost cruel when Marianne put it like that.

“Oh, I’m utterly convinced it’s already much more than that.” Emily didn’t back down. She felt ready to fight, as if she had no choice, really.

“Look, Emily.” Marianne turned her entire body towards her. “I can fully see why it would feel that way. I mean, look at our surroundings, and yes… we’ve shared things. You opened up and so did I, and that’s incredibly valuable to me—probably more so than you’ll ever know—but we must be realistic.”

“Yeah… and what does your reality look like?” Emily tried to steel herself, tried not to feel Marianne’s words cut through her like a knife.

“This.” She opened her arms wide to the ocean. “This is my reality, and from where I’m sitting, it doesn’t look too bad.”

“So, if I understand correctly, when I leave, I will just have gone and you’ll forget about me.” Emily’s stomach started to knot. She took a few long gulps from her bottle, all but draining it in one go.

“No. I won’t forget you. Gosh, how could I?” A mist covered Marianne’s eyes. “But you can’t possibly believe we have a future together.”

MARIANNE

Marianne witnessed Emily’s expression change from bravely optimistic to defeated in a split second. But was it not her job, as the older, wiser one, to curtail the enthusiasm of youth in this matter?

“I’m glad I could be of service to you then.” More anger crossed Emily’s face. She looked around but she had nowhere to go, nowhere to run.

“I’m sorry.” Maybe Marianne had been too harsh. She had been out of this game for a long time—and for good reason it seemed now. “But what do you suggest? That I fly back to London with you and we live happily ever after?” It sounded so ludicrous.

“No, of course not… it’s just painful to be dismissed like this.”

“I’m not dismissing you, Emily.” Marianne brought a hand to her heart. “I feel it too. I do. I can feel this beat again,” she tapped her chest, “because of you and what you’ve awakened in me.” She felt it all too much, which was the biggest problem. Marianne started to miss the wall she’d built around her and that Emily had started to pick apart. “But I can’t possibly, realistically, conceive of the notion of us together in,” she curled her fingers into quotes, “‘real life’. Not because you’re leaving in two days and not because this doesn’t mean anything to me, but because of where you are in your life.” A chuckle seemed the best way to go.
 

“Hypothetically, say that I were to go back to London. Regardless of what I’d do there or any of that, do you really think that, in the long run, this could work? I’m your first. And, of course, that feels life-altering. But you have so much else going on. You’re not even out. You haven’t even started your first job yet. As cliché as it may sound, and I’m just saying it because I feel as if it needs to be said, we are in totally different places in our life.”

Tears streamed down Emily’s cheeks and Marianne wanted nothing more than to take her in her arms and tell her everything would be all right, but it would be a lie.
 

“I can’t help how I feel,” Emily whispered.

“Oh, I know.”
So very well.
 

Despite herself, she inched closer. Because she couldn’t bear this sadness and the sheer unhappiness contorting Emily’s pretty face. She couldn’t stomach being the source of such misery—again.

“Come here.” She crawled over to Emily, on her knees like a toddler, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders.

“What if you did, though?” Emily asked. “What if you tried?”

Marianne chose to kiss away the words. She had no choice. She didn’t want to be the cause of more disappointment and she didn’t want to lie, so she surrendered to the magnificent physicality that being with Emily represented.
 

Marianne had been forced to accept the impossible years ago. It wasn’t so hard for her now.

She let Emily push her down into the sand, let her run her hands over her already sizzling flesh, but she did it with such unexpected tenderness, her fingers barely grazing Marianne’s skin—her actions seemingly so much more considerate than Marianne’s—that it reduced her to tears in seconds.

“What a mess,” she said into Emily’s hair. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Emily planted gentle kiss after gentle kiss on her collarbone, then her cheekbone, her eyes moist but fierce. “It wouldn’t be so powerful if it wasn’t much more than you make it out to be.”

Marianne lay there nonplussed for a second. Where did this girl get all this truth? “You don’t give up easily, do you?”

“Not if I really…” She kissed Marianne on the lips. “Really…” The palm of her hand brushed against Marianne’s nipple. “Really want something.” Her hand trailed down. “And I want you more than anything or anyone I’ve ever wanted in my short life.”

The urgency Marianne had displayed earlier when touching Emily stood in complete contrast to the restraint Emily exercised now.

“And it looks like…” Her fingers trailed along the upper edge of Marianne’s pubic hair. “I’m going to have to teach you what a slow fuck is really like.”

Maybe Marianne had met her match? Maybe the girl that had swooped in on her own with her over-sized backpack really was meant to come into her life? To change it dramatically.

Emily let her fingers merely dangle between Marianne’s legs. “Because let’s be honest…” She curled her lips into a smile as she looked down at Marianne, who surrendered willingly. “You don’t seem to be very good at that.”

Emily fixed her gaze on Marianne while her fingers roamed across the expanse of her skin and, despite the heat, left a field of goosebumps in their wake.

“If you don’t want this…” She cupped Marianne’s left breast in her hand and squeezed gently. “In your future.” Her hand moved more swiftly now, traveling quickly from Marianne’s chest to the back of her thighs. “Or this.” She angled her hand in a way that made her thumb trail an inch from Marianne’s pussy lips. “Well, that’s up to you, but…” Her fingers drew circles around Marianne’s entrance. “I would appreciate it greatly…” One tip inched closer to tease, then withdrew. “If you let me come to my own conclusions.” And again. Marianne’s entire body was reduced to a shivering mess, at the mercy of Emily’s haunting fingertips. “Speaking of which…” She gave a light chuckle. “Coming, I mean.” The blue of everything around them was reflected in Emily’s eyes. “Let’s see how long that will take.” With that, she entered Marianne slowly with one finger, feeling her way in.

“Oh god,” Marianne moaned. She was on the verge already, and it wasn’t because Emily added another finger—although that helped—but because of what she said, and how she delivered the words with that unflinching gaze that set Marianne’s blood on fire.

EMILY

Emily had yet to encounter a more marvellous sensation than sinking a finger into another woman’s wet folds. It was so new, yet familiar and, most of all, so incredibly intimate.

As Marianne groaned herself through climax below her, her body twitching to the rhythm Emily dictated with the thrusts of her fingers, a brand new sense of power descended upon her. To be able to cause Marianne this much pleasure, was such a rush, and the intensity of it all made every sexual encounter with Jasper pale in comparison.

This was much more love-making than she and her ex-fiancé had ever accomplished.

She let her fingers slip out of Marianne gently and brought them to her lips, inhaling Marianne’s essence. That, too, made up a brand new, vital experience for Emily. She licked Marianne’s juices off her fingers while she kept her gaze fixed on the other woman and she could clearly see the shift in Marianne’s eyes. She had surrendered. Maybe only in that moment, but Emily was certain she had seen a glimpse of a future together.

“You.” Marianne shook her head. “What are you doing to me?”

Making you feel alive, Emily thought, but she didn’t want to push it. Instead, she shot Marianne a smile before planting a kiss on her forehead.

Marianne pushed herself up on her elbows. “I need to cool off for a minute in the sea.” She scrambled to her feet. “Alone, if you don’t mind.” She grabbed Emily’s hand, squeezed and brought it to her lips to kiss her palm. “Okay?”

Emily understood. She watched Marianne jog towards the water, her shoulders already heaving from the tears she couldn’t hold back.

Emily grabbed another beer and waited patiently for Marianne to process her emotions alone, in the water, where her tears could go unnoticed.

Despite the sudden distance between them, Emily was certain of one thing. She’d never felt as deeply about anyone before in her life. And maybe that was foolish, and purely hormonal, and unrealistic, but so what if it was?

They watched the sun set together, beer in hand, a light buzz glowing in Emily’s veins. She wanted to bottle the moment and label it happiness, however fleeting it was. They’d both said their piece and made their point, now they had two days left to mull it over.

Emily had no intention of letting her last two days of holiday go to waste. She wanted to explore every inch of Marianne, wanted to find out as much about her as she was willing to share.

But for now, she remained silent. She allowed Marianne to experience the moment alone but together.

She spent the next two nights in Marianne’s bed, discovering erogenous zones she never dreamed she had. She didn’t push, nor ask for anything untoward. She gave as much as she could, while enjoying her new-found sexuality, in this little spot of paradise, with this woman who had turned her world upside down.

But on Monday morning, two hours before a taxi was scheduled to pick her up and drive her to the airport, she had to ask.

They’d barely slept, the urgency of Emily’s approaching departure keeping them awake between fitful bouts of half-sleep and mindless, excessive groping at each other. Wanting it all, but knowing full well it was all about to slip away.

“Tell me honestly.” Emily turned on her side and watched Marianne stretch out like a cat. “Will I ever see you again?” Her heart beat nervously in her throat, thrashing about like a petulant child who is denied her favourite piece of candy.

“Yes, of course. I just—I don’t know when.” Marianne brought a finger below Emily’s lip and stroked her there. “I’ll plan a visit to London really soon, I promise.”

Emily wanted to protest and hug Marianne at the same time. As the last two days had progressed, her desire to fight had been eclipsed by the emptiness that had expanded inside her chest as the moment of her departure came closer. It wasn’t as much acceptance as it was sheer dread. The fear of losing something so important so quickly.
 

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