Burning for her

Chapter 8

Clara

I was fucking buzzing with excitment. I was so ready to lift her off my lap and get her on the table. But I was good. So good. And stopped myself from rushing things. Even if the thought of getting between her legs again, alone was enough to make me so wet I was afraid I would come on the spot.

"So what's the deal with your mother?" She played with the end of my hair, while I caressed her thighs.

"What do you mean?" Her eyebrows frowned as her blue eyes looked into mine.

"You didn't come out to her?"

"I didn't really come out to my family." She lifted herself off my lap, walking to her cherry coke can on the other side of the table.

Her fridge was full with it, but when I was here last time, I didn't see any of that. But I didn't really have time to properly look around.

"Like, Addie knows. Obviously. But my parents or anyone else in my family... they are different."

"Why?" I watched her nervously running her fingers over the edge of the can.

"They are perfect and religious... I don't want them to think of me any differently and I don't want to piss them off."

"Love, you won't piss people off by being who you are." My head tilted to the side.

"In this case, I would." She leaned against the table, her arms crossing in front of her chest. "Why aren't you coming out?"

"What?" I watched her with a confused expression. I realized that I touched a nerve with this subject.

"You haven't exactly come out either." She pointed it out.

"I'm not trying to argue with you, love." Back then, when she was with Clara, I remember she told me that Abby had a temper, and even though we weren't arguing... I hope... I could see that she really had a temper.

"I'm not arguing." But she was somewhat angry. "I'm just asking."

I breathed in deep, trying to somehow save the situation, make her less mad at me. "I didn't come out, because I don't feel like it. I don't define myself as straight and I don't define myself as gay. I sleep with whoever I want, whenever I want." I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket, but ignored it in the last thirty seconds, but took it out now, standing up from the chair. "Shit." I would press ignore if it was anyone else, but it was my assistant from the ballet studio Abigail was dancing in. We had a comfortable agreement that he would only call me if there was an emergency. Anything else was easily discussable at the weekly meetings we did on every monday.

I let it ring, putting it back into my pocket. "Look, love." I took a step closer to Abby, touching her arms that were still crossed in front of her chest. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn-" She tried to protest.

"I did, and I'm sorry." She let her arms fall next to her body and my hands came up to her chin.

There was a light redness on her cheeks, making her skin shine a little. I wanted to kiss every part of her, every freckle she had on her pretty face.

"I'm just... I just get upset quickly when I have to talk about my mother and my sexuality. I didn't want to kill the mood."

"I think your mother arriving when I was between your legs was enough of a mood killer." I grinned and watched as heat started to cover her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." Abby pulled away, burying her face in her palm, her shoulders shaking with laughter.