Coffee and Conclusions Page 4

  BlackVelvetBitches: Glad to hear it. :-) Penny for your thoughts, then. (Just say if you need to go to bed, though. Traveling always tuckers me out.)

  She was tired. Bone tired from traveling and seeing her parents again. Tired enough to let her guard down again and allow herself the dangerous relief of telling Erin exactly what was on her mind.

  IsabellaMartinez: Honestly, I was thinking about my lack of love life since around the middle of my pregnancy.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Whoa, really? Well, join the club. My sex toys were all dusty, and I can’t remember the last time I had fingers in my panties that weren’t my own.

  IsabellaMartinez: Ah, well you’re leagues ahead of me. Not even my own fingers have snuck in there.

  BlackVelvetBitches: WHAT? You haven’t even played with yourself since you were pregnant? :-O

  Isabella gave a little hum of annoyance at Erin’s incredulous response.

  IsabellaMartinez: No, Erin. When you have small children and you’re numbly going through the motions of an unhappy relationship, your libido tends to be nonexistent.

  The seconds ticked by, and there was no response from Erin. Isabella huffed. For the hundredth time, she asked herself why this woman made her spill her secrets like this. Why did Erin have to be so disarming?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Sorry. I was just trying to find something to say that was understanding and not raunchy. My brain just seems to be giving me filth here.

  Isabella smiled, relieved at Erin’s reaction and that she seemed to be just as forthcoming as she made Isabella. It was odd to be this honest and open, but somehow freeing as well.

  IsabellaMartinez: Feel free to be filthy, just not judgmental. I don’t always have a voracious appetite for sex, and this has been a period of my life where my interest has been zero.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Hey, I’d never judge you. Is it okay if I ask if you still feel kinda, um, asexual or nonsexual or whatever?

  IsabellaMartinez: Wouldn’t the suggestive comments I’ve blurted out prove that’s not the case?

  BlackVelvetBitches: That was kinda why I asked. I wanted to make sure that the sexy banter wasn’t just for my sake. I’d still be interested in you, even if you weren’t into sex.

  IsabellaMartinez: Oh, preciosa, no. That’s very considerate of you, but I’ve wanted to jump you since the second I saw your back muscles when you did that yoga stretch.

  BlackVelvetBitches: AWESOME. Well, if nothing ever happens between us, I’ll always know that you at least liked me and wanted to…you know, do me. And that is one hell of a compliment. :-D

  Isabella found it impossible not to smile.

  IsabellaMartinez: Funny, that’s exactly what I think every time I see you blush and try not to look at my cleavage.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Ah. Right, that’s me busted, then. Speaking of that, um, wanna come on camera again, or don’t you want to risk it?

  IsabellaMartinez: Erin, I’ll be brutally honest. If I come on camera now, while we are talking so intimately and I feel like a frisky teenager in my old room…I think I might end up asking you to show me those back muscles again.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Hey, ’nuff about my back. My abs will be jealous. ;-)

  Isabella was almost ashamed at how thrilled this conversation made her. She’d spent far too much time wondering about Erin’s abs. Why did she have this pathetic weakness for sculpted muscles?

  IsabellaMartinez: Am I to assume that you have a six-pack, Miss Black?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Well, if you’re not pretty fit in my line of work, people start wondering if you’re a good trainer. My body is kinda my resume and advertising board, all rolled into one. It shows what results I can get.

  Isabella drew in a quick breath. Images of Erin’s resume/advertising board without any clothes on swam across her mind. Her self-control was pathetic tonight, and she could only blame it on being tired. Maybe.

  Looking out the window, Isabella thought hard to find something to seamlessly change the topic. Instead her wicked mind and typing fingers betrayed her.

  IsabellaMartinez: It’s getting late, and I’m tired. So more chatting (be it text or video) is probably a bad idea. However, why don’t you send me a picture of your stomach when we’ve said good-bye? I’ll have a look and let you know if I might want to hire you as a trainer in the future.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Honestly, I’d be more interested to know if you’d like to eat ice cream off it one day. ;-)

  A certain small, but important, part of Isabella’s body tightened, joining her nipples.

  IsabellaMartinez: Deal. In fact, I’ll go get ready for bed and check on Alberto. When I come back to my iPad, I expect to see a picture waiting to be downloaded. In return, before I go to sleep, I’ll let you know whether or not I’d be willing to eat dessert off those abs of yours. Although, I suspect I already know the answer to that.

  BlackVelvetBitches: You’re on! Take your time with your evening cleaning routine, and I’ll get working on that pic.

  Isabella felt elated and giddy and berated herself for being so childish. It was just a picture of someone’s stomach. But she knew it was more than that. It was Erin’s stomach and Erin entrusting her with a naked picture of a part of her body.

  That telltale tightening increased, and the pull in her lower stomach kept it company. For the first time in a very long time, she was aroused. And boy, had she missed that sensation.

  Chapter 6

  Discomfort and Questions

  Erin was frantically doing ab exercises on the floor. She did have a visible six-pack; it was the reason she suffered through a low-fat diet most days. But it was late, and between the bad lighting in her apartment and the fact that the human stomach tended to be more bloated at night, she worried her abs wouldn’t pop the way she wanted.

  From their chats over the last few weeks, she’d gathered that Isabella liked muscles. This was her chance to prove she could give Isabella what she wanted on that front.

  So she was doing crunches and Russian twists like crazy to make her abs look extra chiseled in the pic. When she’d done enough to feel her heart race and her abs buzz from use, she got up and pulled her hoodie off. She switched on all the lights and stood in front of her laptop, just in the right spot for her stomach to be in front of the camera. As she was about to click the timer on the laptop’s camera software. She thought better of it and took a step back, and included the bottom of her bra-clad breasts in the picture. Couldn’t hurt, right?

  She reached forward, clicked the timer, and then stood back, abs tensed. The camera clicked, and Erin dove back into her chair, located the file, checked it was okay, and pressed send.

  As she put her hoodie back on, she tried to relax while awaiting the verdict. She put coffee on and listened nervously for Skype’s indicative ping. She hoped Isabella would be impressed and would let that show in her reply. She knew Isabella would be interested no matter what her abs looked like, but dammit, she wanted to blow Isabella’s designer socks off!

  The coffee machine had almost finished before Isabella’s message came in. Erin threw herself toward the laptop and read the message before she had even sat down.

  IsabellaMartinez: Oh…my…God! What is wrong with you, woman? I get myself all cleaned up for bed, and you risk making me soak my clean pajamas with that sort of porn. How inconsiderate!

  Erin laughed and punched the air. It was an even better reaction than she’d dared hope for.

  BlackVelvetBitches: I’m not sure if you mean that I made you sweaty or if it was just the crotch getting wet? I’m hoping both. Careful with your parents’ sheets, Martinez. ;-) So I guess my abs passed muster?

  IsabellaMartinez: Erin, I can’t imagine a part of you that I wouldn’t be absolutely crazy about. But, yes, that stomach looks incredibly…delicious. I just wish that the camera zoomed out a little more, so I could
see what was in that bra of yours.

  Erin chewed her lower lip. This was escalating quickly, and her control was slipping. She took a deep breath. Isabella was a responsible adult. If she wanted to put a stop to this game and bring them back to neutral ground, she was more than capable of saying so. If she wanted to. Was this a sign that Isabella was feeling ready for something romantic earlier than expected?

  Erin closed her eyes tightly, trying to figure out the right thing to do. All she wanted was to go further, to achieve more intimacy, and attract this fascinating woman by any means she could. Go big or go home, right?

  BlackVelvetBitches: I could always send you another picture. Or maybe even call you on mute again? Maybe give you a personal show of what’s in the bra?

  The reply took a while to come. Time enough for Erin feel an uncomfortable churning in her stomach. Her mind seemed to take pleasure in using the milliseconds to torture her with questions. Had she overstepped? Had she rushed Isabella? Or was it the other way around? What if Isabella replied that she wanted a nude show with touching involved? Was she ready for that? Could she even do that without feeling self-conscious and silly?

  IsabellaMartinez: My precious Erin, that’s such an amazing offer, and a big part of me wants to say yes, but considering that I am under my parents’ roof and that we’re supposed to take this slow, it’s probably not a good idea. Please don’t think I don’t want (desperately) to see all of you, I’m just trying to curb my inner wolf and keep from eating you whole before either of us is ready.

  Erin ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

  BlackVelvetBitches: You’re right. Sorry, I went too far.

  IsabellaMartinez: Please don’t apologize, preciosa. I’m the one who should be sorry. You’re being so good at giving me space and not taking advantage of the situation, and I cruelly return the favor by flirting mercilessly with you. I’m sorry if it seems like I blow hot and cold. I suppose I just came to my senses there. Although, I hasten to add that half of my resolve comes from being in my parents’ house and not wanting to end up orgasming with them one room away. So I can’t really pat myself on the back for sticking to my decision to not get too involved.

  BlackVelvetBitches: It’s not your fault. I’m more than happy to play along. You’re just so freaking hot.

  IsabellaMartinez: And you’re not? Look at those abs! I know I’m going to be looking at them, over and over, until I wear out my iPad screen.

  Erin smiled, suddenly feeling as shy as if she had never shown her stomach to anyone before. It was unnerving how Isabella made her feel like every sensation was new.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Thanks. Now stop making me embarrassed. :-P By the way, do you have your address for your new place? I want to send that package to you, but I haven’t got the money to send it express right now, so it’ll probably arrive at the new place when you do. Or later, even.

  IsabellaMartinez: Of course. One moment while I go look for the address. I can’t recall the zip code right now. I’ll be back in a second.

  BlackVelvetBitches: I’ll be here. :-) In fact, I’ll go get the coffee I brewed (and totally forgot about) while you look for the address.

  When Erin came back with her mug of hot coffee, the message with Isabella’s new address in Philly was waiting for her.

  BlackVelvetBitches: Thanks. I’ll finish up the package and send it tomorrow.

  IsabellaMartinez: That sounds good. Oh damn, Alberto is waking up, and he sounds like it’s bad. This might take a while. I’ll say good night to you now. Speak tomorrow?

  BlackVelvetBitches: Abso-freakin-lutely. Go get the poor kid. ’Night, ’night, beautiful. :-*

  There was no reply, and Erin assumed that Isabella had thrown the tablet aside to focus on taking care of Alberto and not ruin too much of her parents’ sleep.

  Erin blew on her scalding hot coffee, as she crossed the room to the package she was sending to Isabella. She’d seen the book in a shop window on the way back from work, Dog Breeds for Those with Children. Inside, Erin had written a jokey note about Isabella getting the dog Erin wasn’t allowed and then letting her come play with it.

  There was also a chart of illustrated back stretches she’d printed out from a physical fitness forum she was a member of. She wasn’t sure if Isabella would need it anymore, as she’d probably be sleeping in a real bed now, but it couldn’t hurt.

  The finishing touch was a little metal sign with a vintage print.

  Coffee—because you can sleep when you’re dead.

  Erin had bought it in a garage sale, years ago, and had hung it wherever she’d lived since. It might not be Isabella’s taste in decorations and might not make it onto the walls of Isabella’s Philadelphia apartment, but Erin was sure it would at least make her smile. And that was worth the two dollars she’d spent on it back in the day.

  She went back to her laptop and looked at the files on the USB stick. She was happy with her music selection, but there was still room for more. She considered including another picture of her abs as a surprise. Maybe even a picture of what was above her abs. Would that be inappropriate, considering their discussion tonight?

  Yes, Isabella had backpedaled somewhat, but she’d also admitted she would’ve said yes to more pictures, maybe even a video, had she not been at her parents’ house. And she would be in the privacy and comfort of her own home when she got this package.

  Unsure of what to do, Erin sat down and sent a text to her flirting expert: Riley.

  Hey, I need your help. You know roughly where I’m up to with Isabella, right? I’m thinking about sending her a pic of my chest, wearing only my bra. She liked a pic of my abs earlier, so it should be okay to send a naughtier picture too, right?

  She was driving herself crazy, fretting about taking things too far too fast, so she put on some warm clothes and decided to take a brisk walk. She wasn’t a huge fan of walking alone late at night in her neighborhood. While it wasn’t rough, it sure as hell wasn’t without predators either. She knew she could hit and outrun most guys, but she also knew that some guys had weapons. Or friends. Or both. But it wasn’t all that late, and she knew where it was well lit and usually safe to walk.

  She took a gulp of her cooled coffee, put on her beat-up vintage Dragon Adidas, and headed for the fresh April evening air.

  Twenty minutes into the walk, she heard from Riley.

  No, Erin, you dumbass, that’s not okay. Listen, babe, my homie, my man, my dude…you can’t send her a pic of yourself in a bra. What are you, 17? Take the fucking bra off, snap a pic of the girls, and show the woman what she’s getting if she boards the Erin Black Express to Sexytown! DO IIIIIT!

  Erin snorted and headed for home. She’d ignore Riley’s over-the-top suggestion but take her enthusiasm and go with her own instincts.

  When she got home, she stripped down to her bra and jeans, stood in front of the laptop again, and set the timer to take a close-up, her breasts safely tucked away in her white bra. She prepped the picture, stuck it on the USB and named it, open_in_private. She removed the USB stick, put the cap on, and added it to the box. She taped up the package before she had time to change her mind.

  She considered another cup of coffee but decided against it. She needed some sleep, but that niggling discomfort was there as soon as she contemplated it. The idea of going to bed, of closing her eyes, even of falling asleep made her feel…uneasy. Just like it always did.

  She took a deep breath and tried to ignore the tension that crept into her shoulders. Poker. That would have to be Plan B. She went over to the laptop and sighed in defeat.

  Chapter 7

  A New Day, A New Town

  Isabella woke up to a fidgeting Alberto. He’d woken up so many times last night that she’d decided to let him sleep in the bed, nestled in her arms.

  Long gone were the days when she couldn’t sleep next to him for fear that sh
e’d roll over and flatten him. Somewhere in the parental brain was a built-in function which distinguished where he was and made her sleep very still. It wasn’t necessarily restful sleep, but it was still more sleep than she achieved by constantly getting out of bed to get him from his crib. He slept better too, seeming to draw comfort from her warmth and familiar scent.

  His little hand had reached out and bumped into her cheekbone a little too hard for her to sleep through. She groaned and opened her eyes. It was strange seeing the small but luxurious guestroom and not her former Florida home. The muffled noises filtered into her consciousness, sounds of pigeons outside the window and what she assumed was her father making breakfast in the kitchen.

  Alberto Martinez Sr. was a big believer in breakfast and would experiment with new foods. His efforts were usually wasted on his wife, who believed breakfast consisted of an espresso. Dark roasted and served black. And, at a push, a piece of fruit.

  Isabella smiled at the baby who was just opening his eyes and beginning to whine.

  “Good morning, cariño. Want to see what your grandfather’s making? Let’s feed you and get you into a fresh diaper, then we’ll go see what yummy madness he’s cooking up.”

  He sneezed, and she looked at him.

  “Bless you, and I’ll take that as a yes.” Isabella sat up with him and unbuttoned her pajama shirt.

  Isabella descended the staircase with a freshly changed and fed Alberto in her arms. She was comfy in her robe, pajamas, and slippers, while Alberto was equally warm and cozy in his Winnie the Pooh fleece onesie. It was important to her that they were both comfortable in the house that tended to be anything but cozy.

  She assumed most people would react in some way to the opulence of the marble and dark wood throughout this house. Does it only feel cold and ostentatious to me? She and her parents had moved into the house when she was a teenager, and her mother had staff to keep it in a state of perfection. It never looked or felt like home to Isabella.