I don’t know what I expected Megan to say. I know what I wanted her to say, but that’s totally different. I certainly didn’t expect her to get all tongue-tied and stumble over her response.
“I… you. I…,” Megan stammered. The only thing that kept me from freaking out that I’d somehow ruined everything was being able to feel just how shocked she was. “Yes!” She finally blurted out.
The word hit me like a ton of helium balloons. At the same time I felt knocked over and like I was being lifted up, like a huge weight of doubt and anxiety had been blown away. I blinked twice while trying to parse the emotions. That delay let my autopilot cheat me out of deciding how I reacted: I found myself leaning in to kiss her before I realized what I was even doing.
It was so. incredibly. weird.
I mean: it was nice. It was really nice. Megan’s lips were soft, and it felt like they molded against mine somehow. She leaned into it after I started it, and her leyline radiated happiness and pleasure.
But it was still Megan.
And that incongruity was enough for me to regain control of myself. I broke the kiss off sooner than I would have if I’d kept running on autopilot. I didn’t try to caress her lips with my tongue or any of the things I’d learned from Emma. I mean: what if Megan recognized what I was doing and called me on it? I pulled back, blushing fiercely at having been so forward. Oh my god, I thought in shock. I just kissed Megan. This had to be some sort of bizarre, twisted fantasy. And if I knew anything about how those went, Megan was about to lose interest in me, and she and Emma were going to start making out any second now. Which was probably good, because if I kissed Megan again it was probably going to be about like Emma did, only with less experience.
After all, everything I’d learned about kissing I’d learned from Emma. Well… and I guess Hans and Benjamin. And maybe sort of a little bit from that one time with Melvin.
Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god. I’d just started kissing people in the last week. So how the hell had I wound up already having kissed so many?!
I was only saved from starting to babble by the fact that Megan let me go and turned to Emma. Just as expected, I thought in relief.
“She asked me!” Megan exclaimed instead of asking Emma if she wanted to go somewhere without me and do truly erotically indecent things. Okay. So, that isn’t exactly as expected.
Emma leaned her head all the way back so that she could look up at Megan instead of me. “Yes,” Emma agreed dryly. I felt a spike of panic. Had I offended her somehow? Then she let her expression go and I realized she was just teasing Megan by pretending to be underwhelmed. Her smile lit up. “And I’m very happy for you,” Emma added.
Extremely not as expected, I thought, still stunned.
Then Emma got up and leaned in and kissed Megan, too. I would have heaved a sigh of relief except I was still sort of in shock. There we go. That’s more like it, I thought. This was the script I was familiar with. Except then Emma pulled away. She fixed me with her gaze, and instead of telling me to give her and her girlfriend some privacy she said: “You get the other cheek.”
I didn’t have time to formulate a coherent response, even though it would’ve just been the one questioning word if I had, because then Emma leaned in again and kissed Megan on the cheek. Oh, I realized. I leaned in and kissed the other one. Megan squeaked. I could feel her tremble. Moreover: I could feel the heat under my lips swell as she flushed under our attention.
That was… also weird. But really fun.
I’m making Megan blush, I realized, and my worldview took another huge knock over the head. I was making Megan blush. I was making Megan blush! That… that… That is not the way things work!
I pulled away again. A couple of seconds later Emma followed suit. Megan was left breathless: speechless and glowing. Emma laughed throatily. “Oh yeah,” she said. “This promises to be fun.”
For my part, I still felt like my world was spinning. Probably because all of the anxiety I had over the whole to date or not to date Megan thing had been whisked away and my brain was trying to fill it back in, but not really getting further than: ‘What. What? What?!‘
Emma leaned back in to start kissing Megan again, but I still hadn’t reconciled Megan with ‘someone I kiss.’ “Wait!” I blurted. Then, desperate for a reason, my autopilot supplied: “Don’t we still need to have the whole ‘what is everyone comfortable with’ talk and stuff?”
Emma tensed in frustration, lips poised just before pressing against Megan’s skin again. Then she pulled back and gave me a disgruntled eye. “Well, you both know what I’m comfortable with,” Emma said bluntly. “So that’s done. And since unlike Hans I am dating Megan, I really have no problem with her joining in on things without asking first. You?”
Oh right. We talked about that just a few days ago. And she used to date Megan, so of course she’s already talked about that with her, too. “I…” I fumbled for a reply. “I don’t know,” I said.
The corner of Emma’s mouth lifted. “You’re still new to all of this dating stuff,” she said like she was repeating something — and I belatedly realized she was probably paraphrasing something I’d told to her in the past. “So you’re open to most things but if it’s something new we should ask first, and if we want you to stop something we should tell you, and if you want to stop something you’ll tell us?”
“Um.” I said. This was turning out to not be as much of a distraction as I thought it would be. It didn’t help that I was so off balance from Emma’s impatient aggression. I was supposed to be the ravaging barbarian between us. “Yes?”
Emma looked at Megan, who still appeared to be a little dazed. “Megan?” Emma asked.
“I… Yes,” Megan said. She seemed to realize she wasn’t saying anything sensible, because she blushed harder and her eyes darted back and forth between us. “I mean: I liked that. And I’ve been with you, Emma, so you know I’ll speak up about anything I’m uncomfortable with. And I’ve told you about almost everything I’ve ever done with anyone, Abby, so you should have a pretty good idea, too. And I… I’ve never actually had a three-way before,” she admitted quietly. “But I’d really like to.” She abruptly blushed again.
My mouth felt very, very dry. My tongue felt thick and unwieldy. “I… I meant we needed to talk about safety stuff,” I stammered. “Like: I shouldn’t be allowed to feed on either of you. Especially Emma. And I shouldn’t do anything with either of you when I’m thirsty because thirsty me is a real piece of work. And… um…” That was most of it. Wasn’t it? I was pretty sure diseases didn’t enter the picture since I was undead and Megan’s body was a super-reinforced glamour. Emma was the really vulnerable one, and…
My eyes widened. “Emma!” I blurted. “Your aura. I know how to fix it. I mean: I can’t because that would just get my curse all over you again, but maybe Megan or someone can? Megan, can you see this?” I tried to focus on Megan’s leyline and direct it toward one of the patches in my soul, but since I wasn’t dormant I couldn’t discern where exactly they were — or even where exactly I was focusing Megan’s leyline.
I tried as hard as I could, but to no avail. Megan just looked at me blankly and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re trying to get me to pick up,” she said. “It’s just a jumble of emotions.”
I groaned and sat back on the bed. “Someone just shoot me so I can show this to you,” I complained.
“I don’t think we should do that!” Megan protested in alarm.
“I don’t know,” Emma opined. “She did almost kill me the other day. Getting some of my own back might be a little cathartic.”
Megan stared at Emma with wide, disbelieving eyes. Emma didn’t notice because she was watching me. The expression on her face made me think that she was joking. Probably. Actually, I wasn’t sure. I did not have a lot of experience with angry Emma.
“I think we’ll keep on as we have,” Megan said firmly. “Jack said that ongoing pushing of aura into Emma would see her mended in a few days and it’s already been one, so there’s no reason to mess with that method now.”
“Oh… okay,” I stammered.
Emma sighed grumpily. Faux grumpily? “Alright,” she agreed. “Which brings us back to the question of what we’re going to do next. And since I am really tired of not being able to do anything, we are going to do something.” She got up and looked back and forth between Megan and I as though considering the options.
Don’t worry, Megan suddenly thought at me. I know it wasn’t what you were trying to show me, but I can see that even though you want to be dating me you’re still grappling with how that changes things. I’m letting Emma know that I’m not up for that threesome… tonight.
The thought brought me relief and disappointment in almost equal measure. Given how conflicted I felt, that probably meant Megan had made a good call. Thank you, I thought. I want… I mean… Yes. You know.
I do, Megan thought back. We’ll take it slow until you’re ready for fast.
“I’ve decided,” Emma abruptly announced. “Megan, since we’ve already had reunion sex you are excused. But since you aren’t comfortable straying away from me, feel free to watch.”
I felt my eyes turn into saucers. I should have been wondering what Emma had decided and what Megan was excused from, but my dirty imagination was too busy filling in all the possible scenarios pertaining to the phrase ‘reunion sex.’ Holy fuck, that must have been hot.
It really, really was, Megan psychically shot back. Then she gave me a kiss on the cheek as though it wasn’t her fault I was now blushing twice as hard as I would have been otherwise. And then she got up and kissed Emma on hers. “Okay,” Megan said. A plush chair materialized in the corner of the room and Megan plopped down into it. She smiled at both Emma and I. “Need anything else?”
Emma considered. “The bed will do for now,” she said to Megan. “If there’s anything else I’ll let you know.” Then she addressed me. “Abby, since you did almost kill me and I am kind of pissed about not having been able to do anything while everything was happening over the past few days and you have been beating yourself up over it for just as long as I’ve been out of it — no, don’t deny it. I saw some of your aura when Megan was sharing in front of those other vamps.” She glared at me until I closed my mouth again. I hadn’t even realized I’d opened it. Although, now that it had been pointed out I realized that I wasn’t going to deny it so much as I was getting ready to apologize again.
“So, anyway,” Emma continued. “Since Megan is good but I’m still feeling that ‘near brush with death omfg must have all of the sexing ever’ thing, how do you feel about really, really good apology sex?”
For a second I didn’t realize what Emma was asking. Then, for a couple more, I didn’t realize why she was asking. Then realization dawned. Wait. Did she really just ask Megan to sit out so she could have sexy fun erotic play time with me? And once more my ability to form conscious decisions was short-circuited. This is not what my fantasies have taught me about how it is supposed to work! I psychically protested.
Then I felt Megan’s laughter in my head. I didn’t share that, she thought at me. But I will tell you that fantasies and reality are often very, very different. Although I think you already know that.
Well, yes, I did. Because in my fantasies I was not the object of desire. Like it should be.
“I don’t know,” I blurted. “I’ve never been involved in it,” I added in a babble. “But we can totally find out,” my autopilot added.
Emma grinned hungrily at me. “Wrong,” she said flatly. “Abby, If you’re gonna fuck me, it had better be because you want to fuck me. Not because you’re feeling sorry for something. Got it?”
“I… Yes,” I answered.
“Good,” Emma replied. “So.” She waited a couple of seconds, during which she looked me up and down. “Do you want to fuck me, Abby?”
Words had abandoned me again. All I could do was nod fervently. Emma grinned in response. “That’s good,” she declared. “Because I really want you to, too.”
“Megan,” Emma then called over her shoulder, “would you be so kind as to undo the glamour I’m wearing?”
My eyes stretched a little bit wider. Emma’s clothes flowed off of her in rivulets of shadowy faerie essence that disappeared into the air. I’d guessed right, earlier. She wasn’t wearing anything under them — not even her old clothes from when we’d arrived in Archarel’s kingdom.
And she looked amazing. And she looked at me with an expression that said she knew it.
Emma sauntered forward. She had far, far more confidence than I’d ever seen her have while we were alone. No, she wasn’t sauntering forward: she just was forward. Even more so than she’d been on that first night at Club Luminescence. I wondered if it was because Megan was watching — oh my god oh my god oh my god, when did I go into porn?! — or because Emma was being driven by anger and frustration instead of insecurity and need.
“So,” Emma said dangerously. “Abigail. I see you’re wearing one of my tops. Arms up.”
Without even thinking about it I raised my arms. Emma leaned in close and kissed me. While she did her fingers found the bottom of the top I was wearing. Then, when she pulled back from the kiss, she shimmied it up, peeling it over my head and off of my arms.
“Very good,” Emma purred. I was still reeling. But I’m supposed to be the aggressive one! I protested. Except, if I were to pin Emma down and have my way with her, wouldn’t that undermine the whole ‘Emma gets to be the one doing things’ thing? I didn’t know what to do, so I didn’t do anything. But I did feel that same sort of warmth and incongruous security and want that I felt when Hans pinned my arms and took advantage of me. Was that what Emma had been like before Mr. Salvatore had broken her? All confident and aggressive and demanding?
Whoa, Abby, don’t panic, Megan thought at me. You’re overthinking it. And Emma is a bit of a switch, Megan added. Along with the thought came the clear impression that she was enjoying the show so far, which made me blush that much harder. But it did help me get a grip. Most of the time Emma is more on the submissive side, Megan confirmed. Especially in private. But every once in a while she does want to top.
Oh, just great. I was just about back in control of myself and now I had that mental image further fueling my libido’s conquest of rational thought.
I want her so much right now, I realized. Which was confusing as hell because I wanted her just as much when I was the aggressive one, which didn’t make any sense because this was the opposite of that! Does that make me a ‘switch,’ too?
M-hmm, Megan agreed. I’d say so — although, really, no one gets to decide what labels you apply to your sexuality except you.
But I didn’t get to respond to — or even think about — that. Emma leaned in and kissed me again, once more wiping out my ability to think about anything except how good it felt and how excited it made me. This time her bare skin pressed against my bare skin and despite the sheer illogic of it the warmth sent chills running up and down my spine. Goosebumps broke out on my arms. The rest of me was somehow just so incredibly warm. I didn’t want her to stop. Oh god: what’s she going to do when she stops kissing me? I recognized the fear that came with the thought: it was the sort of fear that was indistinguishable from anticipation.
Maybe it wasn’t fear. Maybe it was just anticipation. The wordless, amused, happy feeling that I picked up from Megan seemed to imply that it was.
Then Emma broke the kiss not by pulling away, but by placing one of her hands on my chest and pushing me back until I was laying on the bed. My legs dangled off the edge, trapped between hers. She leaned over me. Her hand remained on my chest, fingers splayed across my collar while her palm pressed between my breasts. Her other hand ran down my side, drifting up briefly to follow the curve of my stomach before reaching the waist of my jeans.
I stared up at her. My mouth opened, then closed without forming words. My fangs scraped my bottom lip as it did. When did those descend? I wondered for just long enough to realize I didn’t care.
Because even though I was the supernatural apex predator it was Emma’s eyes that glinted dangerously — and I felt exquisitely helpless. My brain kicked off a string of oh my god oh my god oh my god that was almost as effective as just being blank. Then, randomly, it interjected: Is this really happening?!
This isn’t how it’s supposed to happen. That was just about all I could comprehend while I was caught up in the rush of the moment. This wasn’t how it had happened before. This was not how it went in any of my fantasies. This was like when Hans pounced on me! Except it was Emma! So instead of having a wolf threatening to eat me alive, it was like the cute and adorable bunny I’d been learning how to hunt had abruptly turned around and revealed that it was packing a machine gun. And hand grenades.
Wait. No. That doesn’t make sense. Bunnies don’t have thumbs to use those. Shut up, brain!
“And now,” Emma growled softly, interrupting my thoughts. Abruptly I lost track of them entirely. I was pretty sure they didn’t matter, anyway. Instead, all of my focus came to bear on her and the question oh god oh god oh god what is she going to do with me next?!
Emma answered by smiling. It was a distinctly predatory smile. “I also see that you’re wearing a pair of my pants.“