“No, I wanna do yours first. You have nice hair. Besides, you have to give those nails another minute or two to dry.” The older woman obliged, turning around so her back was to Rose. Blue eyes fluttered shut at the feel of gentle fingers sinking into her hair. The soft, melodic voice drifted in. “So thick and long. I don’t know how you manage not to spend hours brushing it.”
“I talented,” Ronnie said with a grin. “And I have a damn good hair dryer,” she added.
“It’s very pretty,” Rose whispered, pulling her fingers through the sable strands. “When the light shines on it, some parts seem almost jet black while others seem lighter, like a chestnut.”
“It does get a little lighter in the summer. I figure it’s from all the chlorine in the pool.”
“Mmm.” Rose began to twist the hair into a braid. “I bet you were happy to have the pool last summer. Albany was absolutely scorching.”
“Does yours get lighter? I bet it does.”
“Yeah, it becomes so pale that it’s almost saffron.” Small fingers continued to twist the dark hair, careful to keep the braid straight. They kept up the chit-chat but Rose’s concentration was on what her hands were doing, not what they were talking about. When she reached the end and tied it off, her fingers automatically landed on the broad shoulders before her. She experimented by squeezing gently and was rewarded with a deep groan. “Sounds like you could use a massage.”
“I’d love one,” Ronnie replied, leaning into the pressure. “You’ve got a great touch.”
“Thank you.” She slipped her fingers and thumbs under the neck of the T-shirt and began kneading the muscles hidden under warm flesh. Rose moved as far as the opening would let her giving a gentle tug on the shirt.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know, I want to.” She gave another tug. “It’s not like there’s anyone else here to do it, and besides, if I can’t give my best friend a backrub, who can?” She moved her hands out of the way as the light gray shirt was removed.
“That’s nice,” Ronnie murmured.
“What’s nice?”
“Best friend.” She turned to meet soft green eyes. “That goes both ways, you know. I’ve never had anyone I could talk to like you.” On impulse she pulled Rose into a hug.
At first the young woman was startled but then she relaxed against the warmth of the bare skin. With her face buried in the crook of Ronnie’s neck, she inhaled the mixture of perfume, soap, and the older woman’s own scent. As the embrace continued, she became cognizant of where her forearm rested against the swell of bared breasts. She had never touched another woman’s breasts before and found herself curiously focused on the new sensation. They were soft, warm…for a brief instant she had the urge to cup one in her hand, to feel its weight, but Ronnie’s body shook with a chuckle and the spell was broken. “What?”
“I said I know I’m soft but you can’t sleep there,” the dark-haired woman teased.
“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s just…I um…” Rose’s face colored and her mind refused to offer up any excuses.
“You felt like you were drifting off and I figured your pillows were better than my boob.” Ronnie turned away again and sighed as the backrub resumed.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Rose replied, moving her fingers down the length of her friend’s spine. “Looks like you have plenty to make a pillow out of.” She surprised herself with her boldness and quickly tried to laugh it off. “Not that I’m particularly lacking in that department myself.” Her eyes fell upon a small triangle of skin darker than the rest just below Ronnie’s shoulder blade. “Did you know you have a birthmark right here?” She poked the area in question.
“So I’ve heard. Never seen it myself.” Rose continued to trace the mark with her fingertip, unaware of the effect her touch was having on Ronnie’s senses. “It’s um…not in a good position, even with mirrors.”
“Hmm, it’s very pretty. It’s just a little thing, no bigger than my fingertip. It’s just below your shoulder blade.” Her eyes studied the landscape of her friend’s back, noting every freckle and beauty mark. Where her eyes went, her hands followed, splaying out and running up and down.
“You have a strong back, Ronnie.”
, she silently mused.. She leaned over and spied the large hand resting on the Ronnie’s thigh.She never realized her hand had moved and was now gently stroking up and down a well-defined bicep.
“Um…I think that’s good, Rose.”
“Hmm? Oh.” Rose pulled her hands back and watched Ronnie put her T-shirt back on.
“Okay, your turn. Scoot forward.”
Long, dexterous fingers moved through her hair, against her scalp, massaging while braiding. Rose didn’t know when her eyes closed or when Ronnie started humming. She gave up trying to figure out what she was feeling and lost herself in it. She pressed back against her friend’s fingers, sighing audibly when Ronnie took the hint and began pressing her thumbs against the base of the skull. “Ooh, that’s nice,” she murmured, a lazy smile coming to her face.
“Talk about needing a massage,” the executive replied. “That’s it, relax against me.” Rose did as the rich voice told her, letting her upper body rest upon Ronnie’s. The Dartmouth nightshirt was big on her, the larger neck allowing hands to reach her shoulders without hindrance. She sighed again as the strong fingers forced her muscles to relax. She sank deeper against the larger frame behind her. Her shoulders were completely limp but Rose discovered another part of her was far from that state. She didn’t need to look down to realize that her nipples were tightening up. As Ronnie’s hands moved beneath the nightshirt, the cloth rubbed against the pink puckered skin. Eyes closed, Rose imagined those strong hands moving down. Her eyes flew open with the realization of what she was feeling…arousal.
“Hey…um…why don’t we turn on the television? I’m sure there’s something on we can watch.” She reached for the remote, hoping her voice didn’t sound as nervous to Ronnie as it did to her own ears.
Broken out of her own musings by the sudden move, the dark-haired woman could only mumble an approval. The noise of the television filled the air. It took a moment for her to realize that Rose wasn’t going to lean back against her anymore. Disappointed that the massage was over, Ronnie returned to the earlier task of braiding the blonde hair. Five minutes before she had been content, cozy, and comfortable. Now her body felt cool without the warmth of the smaller woman against her. She let out a silent sigh and resigned herself to be content with just touching the soft tresses.
Rose was also feeling the loss of their body contact. It took effort on her part not to lean into Ronnie’s fingers and start the massage over again.She tried to imagine how it would feel if someone else was touching her but an accidental brushing of a hand against her collarbone blew that thought away.She began to lean into Ronnie’s touch again and had to stop herself.She repeated the words over and over in her head until the braiding was done. When Ronnie moved out from behind her and she settled back against the pillows, Rose felt anything but relaxed. Her body was wide awake and burning with a fire that she hadn’t felt in years. In fact, the room seemed quite warm to her at the moment. Her only hope was that sleep would come quickly. “I’m tired,” she said over a fake yawn.