Chapter Text
It was an incredible, gorgeous summer night, and Carson had Greta pinned against a tree. She was kissing Greta’s throat, tasting a heady mix of sweat, bitter perfume, and smooth, hot skin. Greta’s head tipped back when Carson found her pulse with the slightest touch of teeth—not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make a promise. Greta’s hands slid down to Carson’s ass and pulled. With a moan, Carson lifted up on her toes, shifting her hips against Greta’s thigh. It felt so good, so fucking good. The only thing she wanted was to push closer, press Greta back harder, hold her where Carson could reach every glorious inch of her. She found Greta’s mouth and kissed her again, chasing the swirling heat of her tongue, panting softly against Greta’s lips.
Which was when a sweep of headlights passed, and a car engine backfired out on the street.
Greta froze. Carson slumped, her forehead falling against Greta’s shoulder. No. No, no, no. Not now.
“We should go in,” Greta whispered. She wriggled slightly under Carson’s weight.
Carson turned her head and buried her nose against Greta’s nape. Her whole body pulsed with frustrated arousal. “It was just a car. They’re gone,” she said, without much hope.
“Yeah. But it’s getting late.”
Carson pulled in a deep breath, determined not to say anything about being left high and dry. Well, not dry, fucking hell. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” She let out a shuddering sigh, and pressed one last open-mouthed kiss to Greta’s collarbone. Only the knowledge that Greta had to be suffering as much as she was allowed her to step back. Greta brushed past her and escaped. They walked back to the house in silence, Carson a half-step behind Greta, tormenting herself watching the sway of Greta’s hips in her tight red skirt.
By mutual agreement, Carson climbed the porch steps first. She could feel Greta’s eyes on her every step of the way. Her cheeks burned despite the cool night air. The short walk from the woods hadn’t slowed the rushing skip of her heartbeat in the slightest. If she had her way, she’d have kept Greta trapped against that tree all night, or at least until they’d managed to finish what they’d started.
Instead, she opened the front door as quietly as she could. She didn’t bother heading upstairs to her room. She couldn’t stand the thought of climbing into bed without Greta pressed against her. Once, they’d had a bed. One goddamn time. And Carson couldn’t stop thinking about it. Almost every night when they managed to sneak away, Greta would whisper all sorts of filthy suggestions in Carson’s ear of what Greta would do to her if she could, and exactly how Carson could touch herself while imagining it was Greta’s mouth instead.
Driven by desperation, Carson had tried it more than once, but it wasn’t the same as Greta’s lips, Greta’s hands sneaking under the waistband of her skirt, inching lower, almost, almost—
Fucking car.
And when it came to…well, finishing, on her own, there just wasn’t any privacy to be had in the house. Shirley was the world’s lightest sleeper and she always wanted Carson’s reassurance when she woke up. Carson had nearly been caught with a hand inside her panties more than once, right on the edge, which was almost more maddening than when Greta called a halt to their midnight groping sessions two minutes too soon. Carson couldn’t even take five minutes in the bathroom without someone knocking impatiently. And the kitchen and living room were always busy with people, not that Carson would try anything in the open.
Carson closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it. It wasn’t even curfew time yet. Music poured out of the wireless. Cupboard doors banged in the kitchen—Ana and Terri were on KP duty, drying the dishes. Sitting on the couches around the coffee table, Jess, Lupe, Esti, and Maybelle were all laughing over their poker game.
Carson flung herself down on an armchair near the window. Her knee jittered as she stared at the front door, waiting for the moment Greta walked in. They’d done this often enough that Carson knew Greta would look perfectly put together, lipstick fixed, hair falling in those elegant curls, her blouse and skirt somehow, magically, unwrinkled. Carson knew she looked every inch like a woman who’d been kissed senseless. Her green sweater was untidily untucked, her hair was a disaster. She could only hope her blush didn’t show.
Clearly, it did. Jess cursed at her cards, said “Fold,” and tipped a knowing glance at Carson. “My luck is shit tonight. You want to go somewhere?”
Carson stared at her wide-eyed. There was only one place Jess could possibly mean, and it still didn’t feel like Carson was allowed to know that the bar existed, let alone be invited to go. “Uh—”
Lupe raised a skeptical eyebrow at Jess. Jess widened her eyes and shrugged in Carson’s direction. Lupe gave Carson one long, considering look and let out a scoffing laugh. She slapped down a straight flush and scooped in the pot. “Yeah, all right. Let’s get out of here.”
“¿Vas a ir a algún lugar sin mí?” Esti asked.
“No es para niñas,” Lupe snapped. She tucked her half-empty packet of cigarettes into her breast pocket and stood up. “Let’s go.”
Esti pouted, but Maybelle patted her shoulder. “I think it’s time we were listening to our show, hey kid?” She tapped the cards back into a crisp deck and snapped out a quick shuffle. Her stake money disappeared into her brassiere with one careless tuck. “You girls be safe out there, won’t you?”
“‘Course,” Jess said. “Carson?”
“Uh,” Carson said again. Her eyes snapped to the front door when it opened softly. Greta stepped inside, looking absolutely beautiful and not at all like the wrecked mess Carson felt like. Greta met Carson’s gaze for a split second, her eyes widening when she saw her with Lupe and Jess. Without a word, Greta turned away and disappeared upstairs. Carson sucked in a breath and clenched her hands tight around her pocketbook. “Yeah,” she said firmly. “Let’s go.”