Page 9 of Nothing Heals Me Like You Do
Justine nodded.
“Fuck me.” Sienna returned her gaze to the painting. “These colors. I don’t know how she does it. Do you know her secret?”
“Goodness no.” Justine knew the heartbreaking secrets of Raffo’s past, however.
“It’s one surprise after the other with you.” Sienna spun on her heels and dug her fists into the pockets of her jeans.
Justine never took credit for anything the kids she’d welcomed at the shelter achieved later, because whether they went on to become a famous painter, an applauded chef, a school teacher or, like Darrel, a social worker—all equally successful in Justine’s view—she was not responsible for that. Only they were, despite their crappy start in life. To go from almost nothing to something, that was the achievement. The option of something, no matter how big or small it was regarded by society, was what Justine tried to shine a light on with the kids that came to her.
Justine shrugged. “I’m going to put this in the fridge.” She held up the bag. “Can I get you anything?”
“Hey? What just happened?” Sienna took a step closer. “Did I offend you?”
“You didn’t. I just—” Justine let out a breath. “I wouldn’t want you to think that I took you to Min-ji’s or have this Raffo painting on my wall to impress you. Or anyone else for that matter. These kids mean something to me that goes so much deeper than a work of art that sells for a couple of grand. That’s not how I quantify what I do.”
“That’s the absolute last thing I would think of you.” Sienna pulled her lips into that mad-driving smile again—the same one as at the restaurant earlier.
“I also don’t want you to think of me as some kind of saint, because I’m anything but.”
“Can’t wait to find out about that.” Sienna stepped closer still.
Justine was still holding the bag in her hand and no drinks had been poured. Her pulse picked up speed.
“I like you and I like sex.” Sienna dipped her head. “Most of all, I like finding out what it’s like to kiss someone new for the first time.” She bridged the last distance between them, leaving only a whisper of space between their lips. “Would you like to find out what it’s like to kissme?”
The boundless, brazen audacity of privileged youth, Justine thought, before closing her eyes and leaning in. Sienna smelled like the height of summer. Like the promise of a hazy day in the sun with someone who utterly delights you.
Their lips brushed against each other, and Justine’s shoulders relaxed. The first touch was soft and cautious. Explorative and promising. A tingle ran up Justine’s spine. The bag of food dropped from her hand, to be forgotten on the floor.
Sienna’s fingers glided across her cheek and wound their way into Justine’s hair. They opened their lips to each other. The tip of Sienna’s tongue dipped gently into Justine’s mouth. Justine responded in kind, that tingle up her spine taking over the rest of her body.
She wasn’t the type to question what another woman saw in her, but with Sienna, the thought did sneak up on her. Justine was almost twenty years older than the woman kissing her so tenderly, so deliciously. Objectively speaking, Sienna was the kind of woman who could be with anyone she wanted, yet here she stood, in Justine’s cluttered living room, pulling her ever closer as their kiss deepened, their lips engaged in a delicate dance of sudden intimacy and promise of what was to come.
Sienna pulled back for a moment. “I haven’t told you how beautiful you are,” she whispered.
Before Justine could respond, Sienna continued their conversation without words, in the silent language of kissing. When their lips touched again, it was like the softest chord struck on a guitar, oh-so gentle yet deeply resonating.
The world seemed to pause and everything else in Justine’s life became secondary to the electric tension crackling in the air between them. She gave in to the moment, this prelude to whatever would happen next, which was predictable but also not. Because just as Sienna liked finding out what it was like to kiss another woman for the first time, implying that it was different every time, so it was with taking someone new to bed.
They kissed and kissed, lingering in their embrace, in this newfound, exhilarating connection between them, their hands exploring more of each other’s bodies, but remaining chastely above their clothes. Each kiss was a new discovery, each touch of their hands a declaration of intent.
“Do you want to go upstairs?” Justine breathed into Sienna’s ear, after having kissed her way up there from her delicious, moreish lips.
“Fuck yes,” Sienna said on a deep, heartfelt sigh.
“Come.” Justine took Sienna’s hand and led her up the stairs to her bedroom. And while the time for rational thought was long gone, Justine pondered how every time she invited a woman into her bed, as she was doing now, it was a small victory for her. It reminded her of what she had so gloriously managed to become—the very thing her parents had despised. It reminded her of who she was, of what defined her, of her core self and how that could make some people so profoundly uncomfortable, it made them turn on their own flesh and blood.
Sex could be uncomplicated, as Sienna had said earlier:I like you and I like sex—and that was that, apparently. That had been plenty of reason for her to kiss Justine and start things up between them. But for Justine, sex was tangled up with a whole host of emotions. Although she very much liked sex as well, and she’d had plenty of practice in her life, it was always complicated because, after all these years—decades, really—she still felt as though she had something to prove. That it meant something beyond the sheer pleasure it provided. Something beyond what happened in the privacy of her bedroom. Even though it took place behind closed doors, to Justine, it was still an act of outward rebellion. Because of who she was, where she came from, and what she had devoted her life to. She could scream from the rooftops how normal it was to be gay, but too many people on this planet still refused to believe her.
So she pulled Sienna onto the bed with her and kissed her with renewed abandon. She didn’t just owe it to herself, she owed it to the world as well.
Chapter5
Sienna gazed down into Justine’s piercing blue eyes. She kissed the delicate slope of her cheekbone, the soft porcelain of her cheek, then trailed a path back to her divine lips.
They didn’t know much about each other, but Sienna didn’t need to know a whole lot about another woman to seduce her—because that’s what she had done. She had seduced Justine. Justine had kicked things off, no doubt, but Sienna had hit the home run.
Sienna, quite simply, really did like sex. She had zero hang-ups about it like some of her friends did. She had no qualms saying that to another person—in fact, doing so quietly delighted her. She’d loved the look on Justine’s face when she had told her. Justine, who had most certainly not been as welcoming as Rochelle had—and now look at her.
