Chapter Thirty-Two

Leslie stared at herself in the mirror, wondering why she didn't look different this morning. She certainly felt different.

Would anyone know? Would anyone know she'd spent the last two days in another woman's bed? She gripped the countertop hard, still not used to the flood of desire that stole over her every time she thought of Casey making love to her, and her loving Casey. Just once more, she'd begged Casey.

Just once more.

One more kiss, one more touch. But it was never enough. And Saturday turned into Sunday while they explored every inch of each other, finding the secret places, driving each other over the edge again and again.

And it was still not enough.

She turned on the faucet, splashing her face with water, remembering every kiss, every touch, every time she screamed out Casey's name.

" Good Lord," she murmured. Even now, she could still feel her desire, could still smell Casey, taste her. Could still imagine her fingers as they slid into her wetness, stroking her, making her come again and again.

She turned the water off, again staring at herself. How was she ever going to get through the day? When she saw Casey, how was she going to stop from touching her? How was she going to be able to look at her and not want her?

Why hadn't they discussed it? Had they even talked at all? No, not really. Certainly not about Michael. They didn't have to. Casey had touched her finger where the ring had been. There was no need to bring Michael into their weekend.

But the rest? No, they'd not talked about it. Like Casey had said once, it was very scary. But what do they do now? They acknowledged their attraction, yes. They acted on that attraction. Now what?

Panic and fear crowded in at once, nearly choking her. Was that it? One weekend? Was Casey satisfied? Or would they date now? Or would Casey think that they needed to see other people?

Does she think I want to see other women?

She took deep breaths, wondering why everything suddenly seemed so complicated. So they had sex. It was just a natural progression. They were attracted to each other, so they had sex. Nothing more, nothing less.

Right. Then why did her insides feel all jumbled up? Why was her heart lodged in her throat? And why was she hiding out in the ladies' room at seven thirty in the morning?

Before an answer came to her, the door opened. She looked up, catching the reflection in the mirror. In that one glance, her fears subsided as quickly as they'd come. Because the look in Casey's eyes was the same look she'd seen all weekend. Desire. Understanding. And the barely veiled look of longing. She turned slowly, absorbing the warmth and affection she found there, surprised she was able to stop from flinging herself into Casey's arms.

"You okay?"

Leslie nodded, afraid to speak.

Casey let the door close behind her, then came closer. Too close. This time Leslie couldn't stop and she moved her hand, capturing Casey's fingers with her own.

"We probably should have talked," Casey said, her lips hinting at a smile.

"Yes. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to act this morning."

They stared at each other, their fingers still touching. Then Casey finally did smile, squeezing her fingers before moving away. "We'll be fine," she said. "We're partners." She went to the door, then stopped, turning back around. "I had a fantastic weekend. How was yours?"

Leslie laughed, feeling the tension leave the room. "Yeah. It was a wonderful weekend."

"Good." Casey stepped out, then stuck her head back inside. "Maybe we could do it again? Soon?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

"Good." Then she winked at her. "See? We've talked about it."

The door closed behind her and Leslie turned back to the mirror, meeting her own eyes again. There was a different kind of fear in them this time.

I think I'm falling in love with her.

Of course, considering how she just spent the weekend, she hoped it was more than just lust that had kept her in Casey's bed for two days.

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