want to pretend it didn't happen?"

"I can't pretend it didn't happen, Jill. I've thought of little else since then. But if I don't

leave and do something—like get you a towel—then I'm going to kiss you again. And then we

will definitely have a problem."

It was an out. Jill could let her go, could let her escape into the cottage. They could avoid

the subject, they could even have lunch. But Jill's grip tightened on Carrie's arm. She

didn't want to let her go.

"Kiss me again," she whispered.

But Carrie shook her head. "No. No, I won't be the one." She stepped away, arms at her

sides.

"I want... I want you to kiss me," Jill said again.

Carrie tilted her head, her eyes looking into Jill's very soul. "Then come kiss me," she

whispered.

It was a command Jill couldn't resist. She took a step closer, feeling the electricity in the

room, seeing the anticipation in Carrie's eyes. She was surprised at the pulse that beat

rapidly at Carrie's throat, surprised at the difficulty she had breathing, surprised at the

need she had to kiss Carrie.

She felt Carrie tremble as she slid her hands up Carrie's arms. Then her own hand shook as

she reached up, her fingers lightly touching Carrie's face. She dropped her gaze from

Carrie's eyes to her lips, watching in fascination as they parted, watching as Carrie's

tongue came out to wet them. The tightening in her chest and the breath she couldn't take

told her all she needed to know. She would surely die if she didn't kiss her.

s o h w e i r r a C , m e h t n e e w t e b e c a p s e h t d e s o l c o h w e i r r a C s a w t i , d n e e h t n i t u B d e m i a l c s p i l ehers with such urgency, such passion, that Jill felt her knees quake from it all.

Her eyes slammed shut as she moaned, her mouth opening as she clutched Carrie's

shoulders. The tongue that shyly, slowly met hers drove out all rational thought. She felt

Carrie's arms slip around her, let herself be pulled flush into her embrace. A feeling like

none she'd never experienced before took hold of her and she let it have full rein. There

was to be no denying it.

That's why—when Carrie stepped away, when they stood there both breathing heavily,

when Carrie tugged on her hand and led her into the cottage—she didn't try to stop, she

didn't try to pull away.

Because there was no denying it.

She stood there silently, the drapes causing shadows to dance upon the bed. There was no

hesitation, no apprehension... there was only nervousness she couldn't quell. But when

Carrie unbuttoned her blouse, exposing her lacy bra... when Jill saw those blue eyes darken

with desire, even the nervousness left her. She let her blouse fall to the floor,

unconcerned with its fate. The wool slacks she'd donned that morning slid smoothly down

her legs. But when Carrie's hands reached for her bra, Jill stopped them.

"Take it off," Jill whispered, tugging at the bulky sweater Carrie wore. Her breath caught

as Carrie pulled the sweater over her head. She wore no bra. Her breasts were small, her

nipples hardening quickly as Jill stared. She finally raised her eyes to Carrie. "We're going

to make love."

Carrie nodded. "Yes, we're going to make love."

Her hands were sure as she reached out to touch Carrie. The skin was soft under her

fingers, soft and smooth, and she realized she had dreamed of this moment since the day

she'd first looked into Carrie's eyes.

She wasn't afraid when Carrie guided her to the bed, wasn't afraid when she pulled Carrie

to her. Instinctively, her hands moved across skin, knowing where to touch, how to touch.

But when Carrie's hands spread her thighs, when Carrie settled between her legs, Jill

wasn't prepared for the way her body reacted to her touch. Her hips rose, melding with

Carrie's, and she felt a flood of wetness soak her. Then Carrie's mouth was there, silencing

her moan, taking the breath from her. But then that mouth pulled away, moving lower.

Jill shuddered when soft lips covered her breast, when a warm tongue raked across her

nipple. Her body pulsed, moving wildly against Carrie's. She ran her fingers through

Carrie's short hair, holding her tightly against her breast. Then a hand moved between

their bodies and she felt Carrie shift, felt that hand slide over her hip.

She wasn't certain what she expected to feel when Carrie touched her, but the jolt of

desire that pierced her soul was not it. Fingers slipped into her wetness and she cried out,

her head tilted back, eyes slammed shut as Carrie entered her. Her hips jerked, taking

Carrie inside, moving with each stroke of her fingers.

Then she felt Carrie move, felt Carrie's wetness as Carrie straddled her thigh. Blindly, she

reached her hand out, wanting to touch Carrie, wanting to feel her. But the instant her

hand moved between their bodies, the instant her fingers felt Carrie's wetness as Carrie

slammed down on them, the instant she touched Carrie, she climaxed with such wild

abandon her throat ached from the scream she tried to contain. Her body nearly convulsed

as she came but she was coherent enough to feel Carrie's orgasm, coherent enough to feel

her fingers enveloped by Carrie's wetness, coherent enough to hear her name leave

Carrie's lips as she came.

Coherent enough to know what they'd just done.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

She filled the wineglass for the third time, noting absently that the bottle was nearly

empty. Numbly she set it aside, moving slowly along the deck, staying out of the drizzle

that had been falling all day.

Craig was not home and she had no idea where he was. Angie was up in her room doing

homework. And Jill paced nervously on the deck, her mind racing, thousands of thoughts

crowding in as she tried to determine how she felt. It stood to reason she should feel

guilty. After all, she'd just been intimate with someone other than her husband.

But surprisingly, she was able to push the guilt away. What they'd shared today was

inevitable. Jill couldn't have stopped it any sooner than she could have stopped a speeding

train. She knew when she went there what would happen. She knew it in her heart... she

knew it in her soul.

But what it all meant, she had no idea. There hadn't been time to talk, time to savor their

intimacy. Carrie had asked her to call in, had asked her to stay the afternoon with her but

Jill couldn't think of an excuse to give Harriet.

So in the end, she'd fled, her blouse and suit jacket a wrinkled mess, a testament as to how

she'd spent her lunch hour. As it was, she was twenty minutes late but Harriet didn't

comment. She simply raised her eyebrows as Jill hurried into the ladies' room. And she

nearly cried when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Hardly a hint of makeup remained

and her lips, still swollen from their lovemaking, were unnaturally red.

She looked frightful.

And it was just a blessing she didn't have to face Craig because she had no idea how she

would react when she saw him, no idea what her eyes would reveal. Would he know? Would

he suspect? And the next time he kissed her, would she pull away, would she shy away from

his touch?

His touch. How could she ever allow him to touch her after what she'd just shared with

Carrie? Carrie's touch couldn't have been more different than Craig's, yet her hands upon

her skin made her body come alive, made it tingle with want, with need. It was like Carrie

knew exactly how to touch her, when to touch her... where to touch her.

She paused, the wineglass nearly to her lips but she lowered it again. Yes, Carrie knew how

to touch her. Carrie knew exactly how to touch her.

"Oh my God," she whispered.

She's been with a woman before.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Jill sat in her car for a long moment, actually nervous about seeing Carrie. She wasn't sure

what to expect. She didn't know how she would react, she didn't know how Carrie would

react. Would they hug? Would they kiss? Would they have lunch like normal?

Or would they make love again?

Jill closed her eyes, aware of the trembling of her body at just the thought. Is that what

she wanted? To make love again? To touch Carrie? To have Carrie touch her? Was this the

start of an affair ... an affair with another woman? Or was it a one-time thing? A one-time

lapse in judgment?

She shook her head. She didn't know what it was, not yet. But she did know it was not a

one-time thing. Her body told her that. So she opened the door and got out, the rain that

had lingered overnight and into the morning had dissipated, giving way to colder

temperatures but clearing skies.

The low heels she'd slipped on that morning clicked loudly on the driveway as she hurried

around back to the sun porch. As expected, Carrie was standing inside waiting. And as

before, Jill stopped, her eyes colliding with Carrie's through the windows. Again, she didn't

know what she expected, but not this rapid hammering of her heart and weak knees. Only