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Heat waves shimmered above the asphalt ahead, rippling the slick-looking mirage of shine that slid off the road as she got closer. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and on either side of the road, bare and dusty cotton fields stretched as far as she could see.
Carol had read somewhere that the sky accounted for eighty-percent of your view in West Texas. She hadn’t believed it, but now, driving across this god-forsaken parched hellscape, she reckoned the percentage was actually higher than that. It might not have been so bad if the sky had at least been a pretty shade of blue. Perhaps straight above her it was. But through the windshield, the sky came up from the horizon in the palest orange, almost white, so bright and it actually looked gritty, to the point that Carol genuinely wondered if it would be safe to breathe the air outside.
She was on her way back to Albuquerque after attending a cousin’s wedding in Louisiana. When she RSVP’d, driving hadn’t seemed like a bad idea. She did enjoy the occasional road trip. But Texas was a big place—the kind of big where you could drive from sunup to sundown and still be in Texas. And even though she’d split the drive there into two days, she’d been so miserable among her family that she was determined to get back home as quickly as possible, even if that meant an almost 13 hour drive, not including pit stops.
That determination had led her to take an alternate route that her phone app had offered up as a way to stay out of Lubbock, which would mean less traffic and fewer turns. Unfortunately it also meant limited cell service. At some point, Carol had taken a wrong turn, and she hadn’t realized it until the GPS on her phone screen refused to show anything but a flat gray grid—which was honestly more appealing than the actual landscape.
From the sun, which was getting lower in the sky ahead of her, she could tell she was at least still heading west. But for all she knew, she might end up in Roswell before she even figured out what road she was on.
There was a loud POP and the wheel suddenly jerked to the right in her hands. Carol cursed and held on, immediately letting off the gas and then gently pressing the brake as she eased the old Subaru to a halt on the narrow dusty strip between the road and yet another barren cotton field.
“Fuck,” Carol muttered, as she leaned her head against the wheel. So much for making it home today. A frustrated growl rose from the back of her throat until she yelled, “Goddamnit!” She lifted her head and banged her hands against the wheel. Then she sat back in her seat with a huff.
Of course her phone still didn’t have any service. She was on her own.
Carol turned off the car. As soon as the A/C stopped, she could feel the outside heat start to seep in. When she opened the door, she was immediately assaulted by hot unmoving air. She let out another growl as she slammed the door and then traipsed around to have a look at the rear passenger side tire.
It wasn’t just flat—it was shredded. She looked down the road in the direction she’d come from and saw bits of black rubber trailing out into the heat waves.
“Fine,” she said, lifting her arms in a half-shrug so the universe would know she didn’t fucking care. “That’s just… yep.”
She popped the back hatch and shoved her duffle bag out of the way. She was fairly sure she knew how to put on the spare. The owner’s manual in the glove compartment probably had directions, if she ended up needing an assist.
But then she lifted the floorboard cover and found the spare tire looked like a soggy squished donut.
“FUCK!”
Carol dropped the cover and stepped back. She slammed the hatch and tried to take a deep breath but she couldn’t seem to fill her lungs. Whether it was anger, anxiety, the actual poor air quality, or all three, she couldn’t say. But it didn’t seem to matter anyway. She walked back around to the side of the car and stared at the shredded tire, as if she could somehow glare it into putting itself back together. She dragged the toe of her white sneaker through the dirt, and put her hands on her hips, glaring down at the earth almost as harshly as the sun was.
“I guess I’m just gonna die out here.”
“Howdy.”
Carol startled and turned to her right. She landed with a thump against the rear of the car and blinked as she looked out over the field at a figure approaching on horseback.
Had the heat waves already cooked her brain? Carol couldn’t do anything but stare.
The horse was almost white at a glance but upon closer inspection, she could see streaks of light reddish brown in its mane and tail and freckled all throughout its coat, giving it a light pinkish-orange tint. The woman riding it wore faded blue jeans and scuffed brown leather boots. Her blue chambray shirt had the top few pearl snaps undone, revealing a ribbed white tank top underneath, and there was a buttery-yellow bandana tied around her neck and tucked just inside the collar. Her short dark hair was covered by a light straw cowboy hat, and when she looked down at Carol her eyes were the color of warm black coffee.
“You lost?” The woman slid off the horse and looked past Carol at the shredded tire. “Or do you just want a hand putting the spare on?”
Carol opened her mouth, closed it again, trying to remember what words were.
“It’s, uh, I mean, I—the spare is, uhm, it’s flat.” She waved uselessly toward the back of the car and then added, her voice stronger, “I’m fine though. I don’t need any help.
The woman nodded once and studied her for a moment. Then she turned and pulled a bottle of water from a bag looped around the saddle horn.
“Here.” She stepped closer and held out the water. “I don’t know how long you’ve been out here but you should hydrate. You’re looking a little…”
With her free hand she gestured at Carol, who suddenly remembered just how warm she was—and she was already feeling the heat too much even before this gorgeous super model from her dreams rode up on a literal (almost) white horse, apparently to save her.
“Thanks…” Carol reluctantly accepted the water. But then she gulped down almost half the bottle. With one last swallow, she swiped the sleeve of her loose white button down across her lips and gazed at the woman again. “I don’t have any cell service out here,” she said. She pulled her phone from her back pocket to double check and then slipped it back in before she could hurl the useless hunk of metal down the road. “I don’t suppose you do?”
The woman smiled and shook her head. “It’s hard to come by this far out.” She blinked and looked around. “We’re only about four miles from my house though, and I’ve got a landline.”
Carol’s stomach dropped. She squinted against the bright sun. “That’s going to be a long walk.”
“You can ride with me. Mango can carry us both.” The woman gestured back at the horse, who waited patiently, evidently unbothered by the heat.
“Mango?” Carol raised an eyebrow. The horse lifted his head with a snort.
“Technically he’s a strawberry, but you know,” the woman said with a shrug, apparently as an explanation. And no, Carol did not know. “I’m Zosia, by the way.” She held out her hand.
“Carol.” She shook Zosia’s hand, surprised to find it soft, despite a few callouses. She eyed the horse and said, “I think I’ll just wait here and you can maybe… come back and get me in a car or something.”
Zosia shook her head again. “It’ll take almost an hour to get to the house. It’s too hot to leave you out here alone for that long.”
“I can just… wait in my car, with the A/C on.” Carol shrugged and gestured back at the vehicle. She wasn’t getting on a horse.
“So you run out of gas and then you’re in even worse shape?” Zosia shook her head. She reached for the half-empty water bottle Carol had been turning in her hands. After stashing it back in the bag, she swung herself up on the horse. “Come on, Carol. How ‘bout it?”
After turning Mango around, she leaned down, again offering her hand. Carol frowned at it, looked back at the busted tire, and then sighed. “Fine…”
Zosia pulled her boot free of the stirrup so Carol could step in and boost herself up. On the first try she almost fell, but Zosia had a strong grip on her arm, and after a moment Carol managed to hoist herself up behind the woman on the saddle.
It was not at all comfortable. Zosia had to use both stirrups so Carol wasn’t sure what to do with her feet, and the slightly upturned back part of the saddle pressed between her legs in a way that felt—
Carol let out a surprised huff as the horse started moving. She almost slid off and had to throw herself forward, wrapping her arms around Zosia’s waist as she tried to regain her balance.
“You’ll get used to it,” Zosia said, and Carol could hear the smile in her voice. Was the woman capable of being anything other than cheerful?
“You said it takes an hour to get to the house?” she mumbled, her sweaty cheek still pressed to Zosia’s shoulder.
“About that.”
The horse was plodding along at a steady pace across the flat, empty field of dirt.
“Does this thing have more than one speed?”
Zosia laughed. “You’re going to have to hold on tighter.”
Carol rolled her eyes as Zosia patted one of the hands Carol had pressed across her stomach. Then the woman made a gentle clicking sound with her tongue and kicked one of her heels. The horse snorted and took off at a trot—and Carol found herself twisting handfuls of Zosia’s shirt in her fists as she tried her best to stay upright. No matter how fast they could go, this was going to be a long ride.
*
When they finally reached the edge of the field, Carol realized why she hadn’t been able to see a house in the distance. They had apparently been on a plateau of sorts, and some trick of the light had made the fields beyond seem to be an extension of the ones they’d just ridden across—until they approached the edge, and then it almost looked like the ground was dropping out from under them.
Zosia gave the horse free rein and he started down a trail he clearly knew well, following switchbacks down a slope dotted with dry brush and plump cacti and short scraggly trees.
Carol loosened her grip and lifted her head to look around, surprised by the strange beauty of the place.
As if she’d read Carol’s mind, Zosia said, “Hard to beat this view.”
The sun was almost directly in front of them, just a few hours from setting. Wispy white clouds streaked the horizon below it, and out across the scrubland Carol could just make out the long line of a train in the distance.
Without much thought, she said, “Man, I love trains.”
Zosia turned her head enough to look at Carol sideways. Her mouth was of course quirked up in a smile and she raised an eyebrow.
“There’s just something about the sound of a train horn,” Carol said. “You know?”
“What about it?” Zosia asked.
Carol allowed herself a small, sad smile. Why was she even telling this perfect stranger such a random thing? “It is… the loneliest sound in the world.”
She heard and felt Zosia’s hum in response. Very faint and far away, the train horn sounded. One of Zosia’s hands drifted across one of Carol’s, still gripping her shirt. She gave her a quick, reassuring squeeze before taking up the reins again.
“We’re almost there.”
When they reached the bottom of the slope, Zosia took them first to the barn. Carol tried to dismount gracefully but ended up on her ass on the dusty floor. Zosia chuckled as she alighted, with more grace than Carol thought was necessary, and immediately bent to grab Carol’s hands and pull her to her feet again. Carol grumbled and tried to brush the dirt off her own jeans but didn’t say anything. Instead she watched as Zosia quickly pulled the saddle from the horse. She set it aside and removed the reins, the bridle, and the bit. She spoke quietly to the animal as she worked, words Carol couldn’t make out, and in response he made soft snuffling noises and gently stamped one of his hooves. It only took a few minutes and then she turned him out into a paddock where water and feed was already waiting.
“Come on.” She smiled at Carol and tilted her head as she turned. Carol followed a few steps behind, studying Zosia as they walked the short distance to the house.
The woman felt familiar to Carol in a way she couldn’t quite grasp. Certainly they’d never met before. And she was unlike anyone Carol had ever seen—at least in real life. Maybe the woman really had stepped out of her dreams. Maybe they knew each other in another life, or in an alternate universe. There was a worn-in toughness about her, and she was surprisingly strong for such a lithe creature, but there was also a gentleness to her that made Carol feel safe enough to apparently follow her anywhere.
Now that she thought about it, she felt a bit stupid. For all she knew, this woman could be a serial killer. They were in the middle of nowhere, no easy way to contact the rest of the world. It was a perfect place to get rid of the bodies. Carol might as well be a mouse headed for a trap.
Zosia stepped up onto the porch, pulled open the screen door, and twisted the knob to open the front door, which had been left unlocked.
“You live here alone?” Carol asked.
Just inside the entry, Zosia stopped to take off her boots and looked at Carol, who stood awkwardly holding open the screen door.
“I do,” Zosia said. “Why? Are you planning to kill me and steal my truck? I’m pretty sure I could handle you if you try anything.” A playful grin danced across her features as she took off her hat and hung it on a peg near the door. “Come on in,” she added, as Carol just gaped at her. “I don’t bite.”
Carol scoffed and stepped across the threshold. “Really?”
Zosia looked back at her. “Not unless you want me to.”
For a moment she simply held Carol’s stunned gaze. Then she giggled and shook her head before turning away. Carol tried to laugh but only managed a wary smile.
It was surprisingly cool inside. The house was small but tidy, the living room and kitchen open to each other, with big windows draped with gauzy curtains that softened the bright glare of the sun. The front porch wrapped around to the side of the house, so its awning provided extra shade over the west facing windows. There was a small sofa and an armchair around a low coffee table, facing a TV that was old enough to be square and have rabbit ears sticking up from the top.
Carol reluctantly toed off her dirty tennis shoes as she watched Zosia move around the kitchen. After washing her hands, the woman filled two glasses with ice water and set one of the island for Carol as she sipped from the other.
“The phone is on the wall there.” She pointed toward the back door, at the end of the counter. On the wall beside it hung a faded beige plastic handset with a long, coiled and kinked cord. Something in Carol’s expression made her add, “It’s reliable, I promise.” From a small stack of papers and books on the counter beside it, she pulled a slim phone book.
“Wow,” Carol said as she finally approached, “what year is it again?”
Zosia chuckled as she flipped through the yellow pages. “Listen, this might be hard for a city slicker like you to understand, but some of us like living this way.”
“If I’m a city slicker, what does that make you?”
Zosia ran her finger down one page, then flipped to the next. “Well, the usual opposite of that would be a shit kicker. But this is a cotton farm, not a cattle ranch, so I guess maybe that makes me… a dust bunny?”
She grinned down at Carol, who hadn’t realized how tall the woman was until they were standing almost shoulder to shoulder, both flat-footed in their socks.
“Or a dirt devil,” Carol muttered. She was determined to hold her own and not let Zosia continue to rattle her. Deep down she could feel that Zosia was safe, but their playful, easy banter set Carol on edge. She was starting to feel a little too comfortable with this woman, and that was not conducive to her goal of getting back to Albuquerque as fast as possible.
Zosia laughed. “I guess I’ll let you be the judge of that. But I rode up on an almost-white horse to save you—that has to count for something.”
Carol pursed her lips and stared up at her hard. “Fine,” she said. “Sure, that’s… not nothing.” Her gaze dropped to Zosia’s mouth before darting back up to her eyes.
“Robert is who you want to call,” Zosia said, tapping the book on the counter. Carol looked down. “He’s the only one around with a tow truck, but he also does odd jobs here and there, so depending on where he’s at right now, it might take him a while to get here.”
While Carol made the call, Zosia moved around the kitchen, pulling things out of the fridge and cabinets to make some kind of dinner.
“What do you mean ‘in the morning’?” Carol snapped. “I have to get back to Albuquerque tonight!”
“Sorry, Carol,” Robert said, the line crackling between them. “I’m at least ninety miles away and still have a few more deliveries to make before sundown. But I’ll come to Miss Zosia’s first thing tomorrow.”
“I—you can’t just—” Carol huffed. “Fine. Yep, okay, that’s fine. Tomorrow.” She hung up the phone with a little more force than was probably necessary and turned to face her apparent savior.
Zosia’s smile was at least sympathetic this time. “Do you like omelets?”
*
After they had breakfast for dinner, Zosia showed Carol to the bathroom, where she’d set out fresh towels, a change of clothes, and a new toothbrush.
“Help yourself to anything in the shower,” she said. “There’s toothpaste in here.” She indicated a drawer to the side of the sink as she stepped out of the room. “And if you want to drop your clothes just outside the door here, I can run them through the wash.”
Carol looked down at herself and realized she was a bit worse for wear. Her button down was streaked with sweat and dirt, and the white tee she wore underneath had stiffened as it dried out after she’d come inside. And she was pretty sure she smelled like a horse, even though Zosia didn’t seem to mind.
“That’s, uh… yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks.”
Zosia gave her one last smile and pulled the door closed, leaving Carol to it.
A shower had never felt so good. Carol let the hot water ease the tension in her lower back as she lathered up her hair with a woodsy scented shampoo followed by a matching conditioner. When she emerged, she wrapped herself in a towel and used her fingers to comb through and slick back her short blonde hair. She used some moisturizer she found in the cabinet, as her face had definitely dried out in the heat—and was a bit sunburnt too, and then brushed her teeth. After that, she donned the clothes Zosia had left for her, which turned out to be a soft pair of gray sweatpants and—
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Zosia looked up at the question as Carol padded back into the kitchen. She grinned at the sight of Carol wearing a light blue t-shirt with a faded image of Elmer Fudd and the words “IT’S WABBIT SEASON!” emblazoned across the chest.
“I knew that color would look good on you,” Zosia said with a wink. “It really brings out your eyes.” As she stood from the barstool she’d been perched on at the island, she continued, “I’ll move your clothes to the dryer and then get my shower. Please, make yourself comfortable.” She gestured to the living room, and Carol rolled her eyes as she sat down on the sofa with a huff and crossed her arms tight over her chest.
As she listened to Zosia moving around the house, Carol looked around the room. Zosia had turned on a couple of lamps and some very faint ambient music was coming from a bluetooth speaker on a bookcase. Most of the bookcase was stuffed full with all kinds of novels, poetry collections, and nonfiction subjects ranging all over the place—Carol saw titles about gardening, psychology, astronomy, pottery, biology, and meditation, among others. And the novels ranged from the classics, like Jane Eyre and Frankenstein to an array of more modern works by authors like Donna Tartt, Kathy Reichs, and Sarah Waters. After her eye caught on a worn copy of Tipping the Velvet, Carol noticed lots of sapphic romances scattered among the collection.
“Okaaay…” she said to herself, settling back on the couch again.
She’d been wondering if Zosia was just messing with her or if she might actually be flirting. She was now inclined to think it was the latter, and wondered how she felt about that. Carol wasn’t exactly out and she still struggled with trauma from her early life that made it difficult to put herself out there and even think about dating a woman. The idea that this woman, living in what was probably one of the deepest red parts of Texas, might be queer was almost unimaginable.
But maybe that was one of the reasons why she lived alone, in the middle of nowhere. As much as Carol struggled with being herself, she still needed to be around other people. Not necessarily socializing with them but just… even something as simple as going to the grocery store and wandering the aisles with strangers could sometimes make her feel a little less alone in the world.
Ten minutes later, Zosia emerged looking fresh and bright, her face smooth and clear and her dark hair falling in damp waves that just brushed the tops of her shoulders. She wore a pair of bright blue joggers and a white tank top—with no bra, Carol couldn’t help but notice.
“May I get you anything?” she asked.
“Nope, I’m fine, thanks.”
“Whiskey?”
Carol considered that. “Sure.”
Zosia went to the kitchen and returned a minute later with two glasses. Carol took one and watched as she sat on the opposite end of the couch. She drew one knee up and turned to face Carol.
“Cheers,” Zosia said, lifting her own glass across the small distance between them.
“Oh, uh, cheers.” Carol clinked her glass and took a sip. It was surprisingly smooth, no doubt top shelf stuff. “Don’t you have, like, evening farm chores to do or something?” She shifted to mirror her position and made a vague gesture toward the door.
Zosia shook her head. “I took care of everything while you were in the shower. Mango is all set for the night, and it’s just him and me out here.”
Carol hummed and tried not to squirm under Zosia’s soft gaze.
“So why are you in such a hurry to get to Albuquerque?”
“What do you mean?”
Zosia chuckled. “I mean, is it home? Is there… someone waiting on you?”
Carol shook her head. “It’s… where I live. But no, it’s just… me.” The less logical part of her brain wondered again if Zosia was a serial killer trying to find out if anyone would miss Carol once she was gone. Sadly, if she disappeared it would probably go unnoticed for weeks, if not longer.
“So why are you in a hurry?”
“I just… I’m on my way back from a trip I should never have taken,” Carol said. “I wanted to sleep in my own bed tonight, that’s all.”
Zosia started to say something but Carol cut her off.
“How long have you been doing this… cotton farming or whatever?”
“Most of my life,” Zosia said. “It’s my family’s farm, but it’s just me now. I sold off a lot of the land when my parents passed, but I kept enough to keep me busy, to work and live on.”
Carol nodded. “And it’s just you and Mango? Doesn’t that get lonely?”
Zosia smiled, looked down into her glass. “Sure, it gets lonesome sometimes, but we do alright.”
Pretty much from the moment she’d first spoken to her, Carol had been trying to place the woman’s accent. There was a bit of southern flair to it, yes, especially the way she had a particular kind of drawl at the end of certain words or turns of phrase. But there was something more foreign underneath it that lent an alluring intrigue to her voice.
“And has your family always been around here?” Carol tried to keep fishing.
“We came over from Poland when I was five. We didn’t have much, but my parents found ways to get by. They were migrant workers for a while, but they had steady jobs and eventually saved up enough to buy a little bit of land. And things just kept growing from there.” Zosia waved her hand as if there was nothing more to the story, but Carol was fascinated.
She wanted to know more, but also didn’t want to pry. They’d only just met and it seemed likely that tomorrow Carol would get her car towed to a shop, have a new tire put on, and be back in Albuquerque before dinner. She might never see Zosia again.
Did she want that?
“And what do you do, Carol?”
Carol gave herself a slight shake. “I’m a writer,” she said. “Or I’m trying to be one.”
Zosia’s face lit up and she set her drink on the coffee table. “What kinds of things do you write?”
“Oh, it’s… kind of silly, I don’t know…” Carol had a vague idea of a fantasy world, of a woman who captained a ship, which maybe sailed on sand, she wasn’t sure yet, and of a pirate out to steal the captain’s heart. In her mind, that pirate looked a lot like the woman in front of her, but she wasn’t sure if that had always been so, or if Raban was just clearer to her now.
Maybe she could make it a western, turn Raban from a pirate into a lawless bandit with her own secret heart of gold. The captain would be a sheriff then, afraid to admit she’s falling for the woman she’s been sent out to bring in, dead or alive. Carol felt a familiar twitch as inspiration flexed through her fingers.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Zosia said. “But I read all sorts, as you might’ve noticed!” She pointed her thumb at the bookcase over her shoulder.
“I did, you’ve got… quite the varied collection.”
“I love to read. Better entertainment than the TV.” She glanced at the box in the corner.
Carol snorted. “You know they make them thinner now, they’ve got flat screens and everything.”
“Oh, how lucky I am that you came along and made me aware of the latest technology.” Zosia giggled and brought her arm to rest along the back of the couch, her hand shoving playfully at Carol’s shoulder. Her dark eyes were sparkling and Carol found herself leaning closer.
With a soft sigh, Zosia went quiet again. Her hand drifted to Carol’s hair now, plucking at one damp wave and twirling it around her finger. Her voice was low when she spoke again.
“And what would you have done, pretty little city slicker, if I hadn’t come to your rescue today?”
Despite herself, Carol rolled her eyes and gave her a wry smile. “Who are you calling ‘pretty’?”
“You.”
When Carol tried to lean forward, Zosia’s hand slid down to cup her jaw and effectively held her back.
“I mean it.” Her tone was indeed serious. “What would you have done?”
Carol huffed and pulled away. She downed the rest of her whiskey and put the empty glass on the table. “I’d have managed. Somehow.” She hoped she sounded more defiant than she felt. There was no doubt in her mind now that Zosia was toying with her. Carol wasn’t sure whether to give in or give up—if there was even any difference between those two options at all.
“Really?” A sly smile tugged at Zosia’s lips now. Carol stared at her hard.
“No, I guess not. Probably I’d have died of heat exhaustion. Thank god a dirty little dust bunny found me in time.”
Zosia sat back and looked to the ceiling for a moment, pretending to be offended, even though she still smiled. “Wow, so you think I’m dirty?”
“I dunno—are you?” It was Carol’s turn to smirk now. She felt like she might be getting the upper hand for once. She should’ve known better.
Zosia met her gaze again and said, “Keep playing and you’ll find out.”
Something inside Carol finally snapped and she threw herself at Zosia. Carol kissed her hard and Zosia met her eagerly, opening her mouth to Carol’s persistent tongue. When Carol decided to straddle her, she realized Zosia’s hands were already on her hips, pulling her and turning them both until she was on Zosia’s lap.
Slightly above her now, Carol threaded her fingers into the dark hair at the nape of Zosia’s neck and pulled to tilt her face up. Now that she’d had a taste, Carol didn’t want to stop kissing her—and she silently thanked all the stars in the multiverse that Zosia didn’t seem to mind. Hands roamed down her back and cupped her ass, pulling her closer before settling on her hips again and holding her back. Zosia was still teasing her, denying her the friction so desperately wanted. Carol was about to complain but then Zosia sucked at her lower lip, and whatever she’d been about to say turned instead into a whine that Carol couldn’t bother to be embarrassed by—especially when Zosia cupped her face and sucked at her lip again.
Carol settled into it, tried to slow herself down and let Zosia lead. She didn’t really care what happened next as long as Zosia stayed close.
After a few minutes, Carol started to feel a little lightheaded and knew she needed to slow her breaths. Of course that’s exactly when she felt Zosia’s hand drift lower, dipping beneath the hem of that ridiculous t-shirt before tugging with the force of a question mark at the drawstring of her sweats.
“This okay?” Zosia murmured against her lips and Carol let out a needy sound as she pushed her hips forward.
“God, yes, please don’t stop,” she panted. “Please—I need you to touch me…”
At that she felt Zosia smirk and instead of moving all the way in, she kept her fingers just under Carol’s waistband. Carol wasn’t even wearing any underwear, her own clothes still in the laundry, and Zosia was so close to where she wanted her.
“You didn’t strike me as the begging type,” Zosia said. “This could be even more fun than I was imagining…”
“Zosia, I swear to god, if you don’t—ah, fuck—”
Carol’s useless threat was cut off as Zosia finally dipped her hand down, dragging two fingers through Carol’s wet folds. But she still wasn’t giving Carol what she really needed.
“I know this isn’t quite what you meant, baby,” Zosia whispered close to her neck, “but it’s what you’re gonna get for right now.” She bit at the soft skin where Carol’s neck met her shoulder, then covered the spot with her mouth, sucking just hard enough to make Carol insane.
Deciding to speed things up herself, Carol pulled back enough to yank her own t-shirt off and tossed the annoying garment aside. Zosia laughed and leaned back in, grazing her teeth over Carol’s collarbone. The hand that wasn’t in Carol’s pants travelled up the ladder of her ribs to cup one of her breasts, and Carol sighed as she pushed her hips forward again.
Zosia continued to stroke her long fingers between Carol’s legs with an amount of restraint that Carol would’ve thought was absurd, had she been able to think much at all. Carol pushed her to lean back, bringing her face up again so Carol could get lost in her kisses once more.
She gradually became aware of Zosia’s hand slowing down, the tips of her fingers pressing close to her opening but still teasing.
“Tell me what you want,” Zosia husked.
“I want—fuck, I want you inside me, now.” Two fingers immediately slipped in, too easy since she was practically dripping at this point. Carol pressed her forehead to Zosia’s and whispered, “More.”
Zosia smiled as she added a third finger, twisting her hand just so and letting her thumb barely brush over Carol’s clit. Carol moaned and spread her legs a little more.
“You wanna know what I want?” Zosia’s voice was sweet and thick like honey, and Carol was ready to give her anything.
“What?” she breathed.
“I want you to ride me.”
Carol groaned and bucked her hips forward. Her head fell back and Zosia went for her throat again, sucking hard at her pulse point while Carol pressed down and ground herself onto Zosia’s hand. With every thrust Zosia’s thumb slid against her clit and Carol was already too close.
“Zosh–fuck, Zosia, I’m…”
“It’s okay, Carol, I’ve got you.”
Zosia’s free hand went to Carol’s lower back, steadying her movement as Carol arched into her again and again. When she came, her hands clutched at Zosia’s shoulders while the rest of her clenched around Zosia’s fingers. Carol let out a shuddering breath and pressed her face to Zosia’s again, kissing her in between the aftershocks Zosia set off when she switched to two fingers, lazily curling them deep inside as she guided Carol back down.
When Carol opened her eyes, Zosia was already looking at her.
“I hope you don’t think I’m done with you yet,” Zosia said, a mischievous grin curling across her mouth just before she nipped at Carol’s lower lip.
Carol laughed. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“I mean… don’t I get a turn?
Zosia smiled. “You will.” She kissed Carol’s cheek and scooted forward, forcing her to slide off her lap and stand up. “But first, I want to take you to bed,” she stood too and started backing Carol out of the living room and down the short hallway, “and I want to taste you.”
At the foot of the bed she stopped and pushed the sweatpants down Carol’s hips and then nudged her onto the bed before pulling them the rest of the way off. Carol lay completely naked and a little dazed by the turn things had taken. Albuquerque suddenly felt like a dream, or like a distant memory of some place she might want to visit again someday. Zosia crawled up her body, pressing languid kisses in random spots as she went.
When she reached Carol’s lips she murmured, “Howdy,” and Carol wanted to laugh but then Zosia kissed her slow and deep, licking into her mouth until Carol was a writhing, needy mess all over again.
Carol’s hands slipped under Zosia’s tank top, one stoking up her back while the other palmed one of her small breasts. Zosia hummed against her lips and then broke the kiss long enough to rid herself of her tank top—and she kicked off her own pants while she was at it. When she covered Carol again, Carol moaned at the feeling of so much warm, soft skin pressed against her own.
As Carol’s hands roamed, she found that she wanted to explore every inch of this new land that was Zosia’s body. The gentle curves of her felt like warm and lazy summer afternoons and the firm planes of muscle felt like the comfort of a steady and familiar strength. Carol wanted to catalog every expanse, to touch and taste and lick and kiss and take notes about what made her moan a particular way or arch her back just so. Carol wanted to find out if she could make Zosia beg too.
But at the moment, Zosia still had other plans.
She left Carol’s lips and kissed her neck, softer this time, and with the kind of slowness that made Carol feel both wild with desire and overwhelmed with sweet affection. There was a reverence to the way Zosia treated her now, as if Carol were worthy of worship. No one had ever made her feel like that before.
Zosia started to slide lower, nudging Carol’s legs open with one knee—but before she could move between them, Carol pressed her own thigh up to Zosia’s center and hummed as she felt the woman’s arousal slick her skin. Zosia said something that sounded like a curse and lifted her head to catch Carol’s lips again. Carol’s hands went to her ass, pulling their bodies even closer together, and Zosia gasped into her mouth as she let her hips fall into a slow rhythm.
“Carol… I told you—fuck…”
“I’m not good at waiting—you might’ve noticed.” Carol grinned up at her, sure she had the upper hand for once. Zosia’s eyes fluttered closed and her head fell forward as she pushed herself more firmly against Carol. Apparently she’d decided to give in and chase her own pleasure. Carol’s mouth found Zosia’s neck and she licked up the side of it before sucking ever so lightly—
“Harder,” Zosia growled. Her hips moved faster and she hissed out a “yessss” as Carol complied, sucking and biting just enough to leave one mark, and then another. Zosia braced herself with one hand while her other went to Carol’s throat, pushing her back down before crashing their lips together again.
Carol whined and let Zosia take what she needed, allowing her own hands to wander again. She pinched at one nipple and then the other, harder when Zosia’s hips stuttered, and Carol was ridiculously pleased with herself and Zosia stopped kissing her long enough to smile and whisper, “God, that’s good…” Carol let her short nails scratch across Zosia’s chest and up into her hair and down her back, grabbing at her ass again and pulling her firmly down.
Zosia came with a whimper, her body spasming several times before she collapsed against Carol, panting and murmuring again in a language Carol didn’t recognize.
“What is that?”
“Polish.”
Carol hummed. “Well, I don’t know what you’re saying, but I still like it…”
Her hands caressed Zosia now, soft and light, and Zosia sighed, apparently pleased with the contrast, and nuzzled against her. Minutes passed, Carol wasn’t sure how long, but her own breath evened out and she would’ve been content to stay just like that.
“I’m still not done with you,” Zosia murmured. Almost as if she’d read Carol’s mind. Carol had noticed she was good at that. Zosia pressed her lips to Carol’s shoulder and once again nudged her legs apart, this time shifting so her own hips settled between them. She started kissing down Carol’s chest, then paused and looked up at her. “That okay?”
Carol nodded, then found her voice again. “Yes, that’s…” She swallowed hard. “I don’t ever want you to be done with me.”
Zosia smiled, then dipped her head to lick at one of Carol’s nipples. With the tip of her tongue she traced light circles all around before flicking at the rosy bud. Carol huffed and unsubtly arched her back.
“You want me to think you don’t like to be teased,” Zosia said, and Carol could feel the smile against her skin. “But I think maybe you just don’t want to admit—”
“I’ll admit to anything you want if you would just—”
Zosia effectively cut her off by finally sucking at her breast. The push and pull of suction and release made Carol crazy, and when Zosia brought a hand up to palm her other breast, circling her thumb around before squeezing gently, Carol almost wanted to cry from the perfection of the feeling.
After switching sides, repeating the actions but slower, winding Carol up until she felt ready to come undone, Zosia started making her way lower. She licked across Carol’s stomach, paused to suck a mark near her left side. Carol gasped and tried to hold back a laugh. The mix of ticklish pain made her squirm, and it felt so good that she could admit—at least to herself—that she really didn’t mind being teased by Zosia…
Even so, as Zosia worked lower still, Carol started to get restless. She could feel herself dripping onto the sheet and she was almost embarrassed to realize the mess she was making.
“Zosia, please, I need you to…”
“Need me to what, baby?”
Zosia was busy kissing a line down the dip of her right hip, over the top of her thigh, and down toward her center—which she carefully avoided, moving instead to lick across her left inner thigh before sucking another mark into the soft skin. Carol huffed and pushed her hips down. Zosia ignored her and instead settled with Carol’s legs over her shoulders as she continued to drop a mix of kisses and nips along her thighs.
“You’re making a mess,” Zosia said.
“Well, then maybe you should do something about it.” Carol rolled her eyes and dropped her head back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. After a moment she realized Zosia had stopped moving. She lifted her head again, and said, “What’s—”
As soon as they made eye contact, Zosia leaned in and pressed the broad flat of her tongue to Carol’s center. Carol groaned and one hand immediately pushed into Zosia’s hair, hoping to keep her close. But Zosia still refused to focus her attention. She licked at Carol slowly, alternating between long, wet strokes and lighter teasing flicks. She sucked at Carol’s lips, kissed her there the same way she kissed her mouth, and when Zosia hummed with her pleasure, Carol was sure she could feel the vibrations racing through every part of her own body.
Carol lost track of time. Just when she thought Zosia couldn’t possibly work her up any higher, when she felt she would surely explode, Zosia somehow managed to keep her steady, to slow down just enough that Carol couldn’t complain about being teased because everything just felt so. fucking. good.
When she started babbling nonsense while writhing on the bed, pushing her hips desperately into Zosia’s mouth, Zosia seemed to finally take pity on her. One hand slipped over and under to press low on her belly while the other slipped first two and then three fingers deep into Carol’s cunt, filling her up as Zosia’s tongue rapidly flicked at her clit.
The orgasm took her by surprise, and Zosia softened her mouth, sucking at her clit and holding her firmly to draw the feeling out. Carol couldn’t control her legs as they spread wider at first and then clamped around Zosia’s head. And she couldn’t form a coherent sentence to save her life—there was only fuck and oh god and Zosia…
Somehow she drifted down. Zosia gave her a few slow licks before making her way back up Carol’s body, dropping the softest kisses along the way. When she was close enough, Carol grabbed her head and pulled her into a fierce kiss. The taste of herself on Zosia’s lips left her wanting more but she didn’t think she could move enough just then. Zosia chuckled as Carol licked across her chin and into her mouth. Their tongues met lazily and Carol didn’t ever want to stop kissing her, except—
“Come here,” Carol whispered. Her voice was rough and she realized she must’ve been louder than she thought.
Zosia gave her a curious look. “I am here.”
“No, I mean—” Carol laughed. “I mean scoot all the way up here.” She pulled at Zosia’s hips and tipped her head back.
Zosia immediately sat up and did as she was told. As she settled over Carol’s face, Carol let her hands find Zosia’s waist. And then she tipped her head back again and opened her mouth like she was about to receive fucking communion.
When Zosia lowered herself to Carol’s mouth, Carol wasted no time. The taste of Zosia mixed with her own in a way that was indecently good, and Carol raised her head as much as she could to press closer. Zosia must’ve liked getting her off, because she was so wet Carol could already feel her arousal dripping down her chin. Above her, Zosia groaned and gripped the headboard. Carol could feel that she was restraining herself, and Carol wanted to make it last for her, but then… they had all night. And Carol was pretty sure she’d need to be pried off Zosia with a crowbar if either of them were going to get any sleep.
So she went all in to get Zosia off as quickly as she could—because she already couldn’t wait to do it again after that.
She slid one hand down and spanked her—not hard, just enough to get her attention. Zosia gasped and looked down at her, and Carol managed to say, “Don’t hold back,” before pressing her mouth to Zosia’s dripping cunt again.
Zosia moaned and one of her hands found Carol’s head, holding her in place. She began to roll her hips, slowly at first, but then Carol spanked her again, harder this time, and Zosia let out something between a giggle and a growl as she started grinding against her mouth harder. Carol moaned and let her hands rest over the tops of Zosia’s thighs. She didn’t want to guide her, she wanted Zosia to take whatever she needed, but Carol didn’t know how she’d ever be able to keep her hands off this woman.
It wasn’t long before Zosia’s hips lost the rhythm, and as her orgasm took her over, she spoke again in a language Carol didn’t know but somehow still understood.
Zosia managed to scoot back before collapsing at Carol’s side. She was still for only a moment before rolling over to kiss Carol again. After a few minutes, she sucked Carol’s lower lip as she pulled away. Carol sighed and looked over at her as she settled on her own pillow.
“Hey,” Carol whispered.
“Hi.”
When Zosia looked at Carol now, her smile was almost shy, and Carol was struck again by just how curious this woman was—and by just how much Carol wanted to know more about her.
“Where are we?” Carol asked suddenly.
Zosia furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
Carol laughed at her own ridiculousness. The whiskey might’ve loosened her up a bit earlier, but now she was only fuck-drunk. “I mean I just realized, I don’t even know… how far away is Albuquerque from here?”
“Uhmm… not quite six hours.”
Farther than Carol had thought—she must’ve been really lost when Zosia found her.
“Why?” Zosia’s expression was guarded now, the first time Carol had seen her look uncertain.
Carol leaned over and kissed her, soft and sweet, just enough to make her relax, before pulling away.
“Because I was thinking… earlier today I was so mad I thought if I never saw Texas again, it would be too soon.” She turned onto her side and scooted closer to Zosia. “It’s too hot and dusty out here and there’s too much sky, like you just… I don’t know how you live with that much sunshine.” She laughed again and Zosia chuckled along with her, though still clearly not sure where Carol was going with this. “But now…”
“Now?”
“Now I’m thinking… it might be nice to visit Texas again. Especially since there’s apparently a dirty little dust bunny out here I kinda like…”
Zosia’s smile was more relaxed now. “And what if I wanted a pretty little city slicker to show me around her town some time?”
“I could do that.” Carol thought for a moment. “We could meet in the middle sometimes too—what would that be? Roswell?”
“We could go to the UFO museum!” Zosia lit up. “Fun fact! Some people theorize that aliens actually visited earth in ancient times, and that those encounters helped shape human history!”
Carol laughed. “We could also go to the regular museum. They have an O’Keeffe I wouldn’t mind seeing…”
“They also have a planetarium! It used to be considered the largest one in New Mexico.”
“How are you a cotton farmer?” Carol asked around a giggle.
“Oh come on,” Zosia said. “Surely you don’t still think that’s all I am.”
Carol kissed her again, harder this time, pushing Zosia onto her back and moving on top of her.
“I think there’s more to you than I’ll ever be able to know,” Carol said. “But I still wanna find out as much as I can…”