Gemma's POV
I look online for jobs nearby. I could use something to occupy my time, plus my inheritance won't last forever. Finding a job is crucial, even though I've enjoyed not having to wake up, and go to work almost everyday. As much as I'd like to jump on a plane and fly off to Greece, I've got a relationship to be accountable for. And I'd rather be anywhere where Veronica is.
I stick my hand into my purse, looking for my cigarettes, when my fingers brush against what feels like paper. I pull the paper out, unfold it and realize that it's the recipe that Audrey gave me.
Suddenly, I'm craving the banana bread. Is it crazy that I'm obsessed with it? I've had many versions of it, but it's never like the one Audrey's family makes. Audrey's mother was a genius.
Looking through the ingredients, I notice maple syrup. That seems to be the secret ingredient. It's called honey banana bread. But it's made with more maple syrup than honey. I guess it would be weird to call it maple syrup banana bread.
My belly begins to rumble. I head out the door and to the grocery store. The paper even has which store I should buy the ingredients from. Very specific.
When I'm finished at the store, I decide to head over to Veronica's, since she's got a nice kitchen with all the necessary appliances. Walking in, with a bunch of bags in my hand, I see Veronica vacuuming the hallway next to the stairs, headphones in her ears, and her cute tushy swaying to the music that she's listening to.
I place the bags onto the floor, and stand still for a few minutes, watching how happy she seems to be. There's something about her—just looking at her makes me feel an extreme warmth surrounding my heart. I've never felt this much butterflies for anyone before. Is that cliché to say? Every romance story is written about two people who fall in love with each other in a way that they've never loved before. But that's the point of the story, isn't it? To capture the love of two individuals—a love that's different from the rest. It might not be eternal love, but it just might be something worth talking about. Something that not everyone gets to have. Even though it's talked about in society as though it is.
The purest of love is one of the rarest things in the world. And I feel lucky to be able to love her, even if she never loves me back. But I'm sure, with time, she'll love me at least half as much as I love her...
"Gemma, you're staring again," Veronica yells, as she walks over to me. She snaps her fingers in front of my face, with the biggest smile on hers.
"Sorry, such beauty baffles me," I say.
"Yeah, yeah, shakespeare. You're one fine sweet talker, aren't you?" She swings her arms around my neck, and pulls me into a kiss. Her lips are so soft and inviting. I can stay like this forever. When she pulls away, my heart wants to pull her back, "what've we got here?" She looks at the bags on the floor.
"Ingredients. Can I borrow your kitchen? I'm making my favorite dessert of all time."
"Really? And what is it? Cheesecake?" Veronica helps me take the bags into the kitchen, "or is it a pie?"
"Banana bread. Honey banana bread actually," I respond, as we begin to unpack the bags.
"You're gotta be shitting me," Veronica gasps and begins to bounce on her feet, "I love banana bread. Is this a special recipe or something?"
I grab the paper from my purse, and hand it to her. She reads it while pacing the kitchen.
"You want to help me make it?" I ask.
"Fuck yes. It's made of all natural ingredients, and organic maple syrup? Wait. Isn't it honey banana bread?"
"Yeah, I know. There's about a tablespoon of honey on there. I thought the same thing," I mention.
"Works for me. You know that I'm the lead chef, right? I don't trust you to follow the instructions."
"Hey, if you want to make it, fine by me. But don't insult my cooking capabilities."
"Gemma, you don't know how to make rice without a cooker."
I sigh, "point taken. Can I at least help?"
"Of course, lovebug. Every great chef needs a sous. You can start with peeling the bananas."
She's so damn bossy. But who am I to not do what she wants? I'm a mere adherent.
Veronica's POV
"Fuck, that's so good," Gemma moans, as she stuffs her face. I think it's really good too. But you'd think she's making love to that banana bread, "I would hug a loaf of this bread and fall asleep, dreaming about impregnating it and birthing mini banana breads."
"You're too silly," I say. I'm so stuffed with this stuff that I feel as though I'm going to explode. Now, it's time to clean the kitchen. But I feel so lazy. I didn't even finish vacuuming.
But my self motto is, there's no reason to be lazy. Even when there are a lot of reasons to be.
"Babe, I'm in love with this. I will marry it, I swear. I'll be like that crazy lady who married her rug," Gemma continues to eat, while I force myself to get up, and walk into the kitchen. I could fall into a food coma right about now.
Instead, I pour myself a glass of wine, and begin to fill the dishwasher. I can feel Gemma's presence behind me. She puts her hands on my waist, and places a kiss on the side of my neck.
"I'm trying to do dishes, lovebug."
"Lovebug... I love that. Makes me feel special every time you say it."
"Good. You better get used to it," I say, "help me clean up? Then we can..." Gemma trails the tip of her tongue up my neck, before placing another kiss behind my ear. A million goosebumps jump onto my body. Gosh.
"You're so beautiful," she says, and moves her hands down my sides, and grips my hip, "can I help you after?"
"After what?" I turn into her, my hands wet from doing the dishes, but she doesn't seem to care, as our lips collide. It's like a tidal wave crashing onto a sandy beach in the middle of a hot summer. Her hands slide onto my butt, and she lifts me onto the sink's counter.
"After this," she mumbles against my tingling lips. Looking into her eyes, a reflection of my face within them, my body begins to crave the touch of her warm, gentle hands.
I've been imagining what this moment would be like—the moment we finally decide to give into our desire. And it feels even better than I imagined it would.
"Gemma, someone could—"
"I know," she pulls back, and places the palm of her hand against the nape of my neck, "can we take this to your room?"
I slide off from the counter, and realize that my butt is wet. It must have been dipping into the soapy water in the sink.
I take Gemma's hand, and lead her into my room. For a very brief moment, I think about the last person that I brought in here. It almost ruins the mood, but with Gemma's seductive eyes looking at me the way it is... I forget about that instantly, as I drag her into bed.
Gemma's POV
ROLLING OVER, I realize that I'm in a room that I've never slept in. I smile thinking about what happened earlier. That woman has the sexiest moan on earth.
Veronica's not next to me. I sit up and look around the room, assuming that she's in the kitchen cleaning up the mess that we left.
I wish she'd woken me up, so that I can help her. She might be one of the cleanest people I know. Doesn't like a mess. Doesn't wait till the next day to wash dishes. I know it's part of the job of being a bed and breakfast owner. But she does it all with such dedication. It's admirable.
She loves taking care of people. She could have definitely become a chef, or a hotel manager, or maybe even a phone call operator. She definitely has the voice for it. But she chose this... something she's passionate about. I miss being so passionate about something... that it's no longer a job. But just the way you make yourself happy.
The last time I painted something that brought me real joy might be when I was a broke twenty-something year old, living in a trashy studio apartment, with two roommates.
Oh how the tables have turned. Now my life's so comfortable, that I'm unemployed, and have the choice to live wherever I want.
Yet, I'm here, instead of travelling. I'd choose to be with Veronica anyday than in any other part of the world.
I get up, find my clothes on the floor, and begin to get dressed. She's, she's my home. It makes sense. How can I feel that way for someone so soon?
The door opens, and Veronica walks in, "hey, why are you getting dressed?" She closes the door, and secures the lock.
"I was gonna come help you."
"No need," she says as she walks towards me, pulling her top over her head. I look at her satin, blue bra and feel a rush of need take control of me, "did you get enough rest to go for another round?"
"Definitely."
Veronica unhooks her bra, and lets it fall to the floor. Her breasts bounce with every step that she takes to get closer to me, and my body throbs each time. She's so damn sexy.
Veronica's POV
GEMMA COMES with me to buy groceries to make dinner tonight. It'll be only the two of us, lots of wine, and hopefully, lots of touching.
Taking her into the butcher shop might not be the wisest idea, but it's about time Gerald finds out that I'm not into men. I've never had the heart to tell him. Mostly because he might stop giving me the best cuts of meats for a really good price. Good meat means everything to me. Plus, it's sometimes nice to have someone decent looking hit on you every now and then. That sounds awful, but it's the truth.
"Veronica, long time no see. Who's your friend?" He asks.
Gemma smiles at him, and looks at the meat displayed behind the glass, "you have any pork ribs?"
Gerald nods, "yes, big ribs, baby ribs. Any kind of ribs you want."
"I'm thinking of having a barbeque next weekend. How much do you think I need for about twenty people?" She asks him.
"You're having a party?" I ask.
Gemma shrugs, "yeah, I think I should since I'm selling the house. One last hoorah."
"Okay. You're doing the grilling. I don't touch those things," I say.
"Really? I thought you're a woman who handles her meat well," Gerald speaks, "you'll need at least five racks. Double that if you're heavy eaters."
"Great. I'll take the ten then. What else do we need again, babe?"
"Steaks for tonight. You shouldn't buy the ribs now. It'll be sitting in the freezer for days. Just preorder it and pick it up a few hours before you start grilling."
"Our girl here likes everything fresh," Gerald laughs, "am I invited to this thing or what? I love me some ribs, and I can just bring it over instead of you having to come here."
"Yeah, sure. It'll be great to have someone help me with the grilling. You up for the challenge,—"
"Gerald. Gerald Bowman. Nice to meet you..."
"Gemma. Let me give you the address and my number then. And I can pay you now if that's fine with you?"
Gerald nods, "great. Pleasure doing business with you," he then looks at me, "so what can I get you, Veronica? I'm guessing, filets?"
"Yeah," I mumble. Why did Gemma have to invite him? Now, it's going to be awkward when he realizes that she's my girlfriend.
Gemma's POV
THE LOUD music here almost makes me think that I'm at a concert, but all the strippers walking around reminds me of where I am. They've got some thick thighs. Wow.
I haven't been in a strip club in ages. I always feel jealous of these women. They're so hot. And I don't have half the ass that they do.
They are a lot of skinny girls too. And they're all gorgeous.
Veronica catches me staring and wacks my arm, "you're such a pervert," she says.
We watch Penny's husband, Joel, get a lap dance while Penny throws dollar bills at the woman. She seems to have been here before, since she's been talking to a lot of the women.
Maggie's busy sitting at the front of the stage, watching a topless stripper make love to that pole, while we're in a private room, with no one at the pole.
"You don't seem to be enjoying yourselves," Lenard, the owner, walks in with a half naked woman beside him, "my gift to you. This one's a goddess."
He leaves, and the woman begins to sway her hips to the beat of the music. The room has its own setup, and she flips her hair back, and places her hands on the pole.
Veronica's hand grips onto my thigh. I can tell that she's uncomfortable. This isn't what some people like watching, and she's one of them. Maybe it's the objectifying of women, or just plain jealousy. But if she's uncomfortable, that means I should take her home.
"You're gorgeous," I tell the girl and hand her a hundred dollar bill, "but I have to take my girlfriend home."
The woman nods. She doesn't seem to care. I guess she comes across a lot of people like us while working here.
"You're gorgeous," Veronica mimics what I said, "you're just like your grandfather," she mumbles.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I try to yell over the music. I pull her into the bathroom where it's less loud, "babe, are you that upset?"
She sighs, "no, just stop looking at them so much. Your eyes are going to pop out."
"Okay, okay. But you're looking at them too. I'll keep my hands to myself."
"Your grandpa never did," Maggie says as she walks in, "gosh, I really gotta pee."
"What about him?" I ask. Veronica seems to be trying not to laugh.
"He'd get too handsy," Maggie yells from the bathroom stall, "great tipper though, I heard. The girls miss him."
"Handsy, huh?" I could laugh too. But that would mean that I condone his actions, "that's what you guys have been laughing about all this time?"
Veronica nods, "it's funny. Everyone thinks it's funny."
"I hope he didn't—" I have a serious look on my face.
"Some of the girls go an extra mile, if you know what I mean," Maggie mentions as she walks out of the stall, and over to the sink.
"That's gross. I think I'm ready to leave."
"Good. Because I've got something dirty planned for you tonight," Veronica says. Whether she feels inspired by all of the erotic dancing, or she's trying to make me forget that I ever saw another woman's breasts tonight, I'm game. Veronica fails to realize that the only woman I want to see naked is her.
"See ya, Maggie," I wave, as Veronica pulls me out of the restroom, and towards the exit. We get to the car, and she begins to kiss me vigorously.
Her tongue dominates mine, and she pushes me against the car, trying to get her hands under my shirt. Leaning back, she says, "I'm sorry for being so possessive. We can head back in if you want."
Her hand moves onto my torso, inching its way over my bra, "you kidding me? I'm taking you home and—"
Her lips find mine again, and her hand slides under my bra, pinching my nipple, "then take me home. Before I take you right here."
Gosh, how did I get so lucky?
LYING IN bed with Veronica, watching her sleep, gives me time to consider where I want our relationship to go. I'm all in, she already knows that. And if I have to remind her, I will. Sometimes, it seems that I need to reassure her that I want to be with her.
I always thought that I'm as insecure as they come. But Veronica and I are alike in that way. We're not overconfident that someone wants us, and will continue to want us forever. People change, their minds change. And the things that you think you know fly out the window, and you're left confused with a broken heart.
I understand her concerns. I share them too. But I've never felt so secure in a relationship like I am now. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm pretty sure that she isn't either.
We click. It's as simple as that. It's not that we're completely alike, and we share the same interests and thoughts and beliefs. We're like puzzle pieces fitting together. Completely different individuals. But together, we're a perfect fit.
I can't say that we're perfect for each other either. But it's pretty damn close. I've never felt this connected to someone. Never.
It's not scary. Or terrifying. It's simple. We just are. We're living and getting to know each other, and it's so simple. There's nothing complicated about it.
Veronica is like a breath of fresh air. And life's greener on this side.
Getting past all the drama with Zoey and Sabrina and Jack, I'm confident that we have a solid relationship. I just hope that Sabrina stays away from us. Cause I'll go crazy if she tries to ruin my relationship.
I know that she likes Veronica. But I hope that she has enough decency to let go. There's lots of women that Sabrina can fool around with. But there's only one Veronica. And as domineering as it sounds, Veronica is mine...
"Are you plotting someone's murder?" I hear Veronica's voice. Looking at her, I indulge in her beautiful, blue eyes.
"No. Just thinking about you. How did you sleep?"
Veronica moves closer to me, and nuzzles her face into my chest, "really good. I could fall back asleep right here."
I giggle, "my breasts welcome your face anytime of day, babe."
"Mhm," she wraps her lips around my nipple. My chest heaves, as her hand moves up my thigh, and between my legs.
"You can't get enough, can you?" I ask. She shakes her head, my nipple in her mouth, while she begins to caress my opening.
Veronica trails her lips onto my abdomen, moving downwards to my vagina, "one more taste before I have to start my day. It's like a four hour energy drink."
I close my eyes, as she begins to work her magic. She drinks in my body like a drop of water in the middle of a dessert. I don't feel insecure, or concerned about her seeing every inch of my body. I let go of my inhibitions, and let her take me as she desires.