| Lesbian: Romantic: Heartbeat (1/4) |
 32 votes |
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Gwen loved books with a passion. Sometimes she worried that it was an addiction. She always had one she was currently reading, and several stacked up, waiting. It was time for a trip to the bookstore when there were only one or two left unread. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard of her Jeep. She still had forty-five minutes before her favorite bookstore closed. Just enough time for a quick look through the bargain shelves to see if there were any new titles, and then to look and see if there was a certain book in stock that a friend had recommended. An unfamiliar girl was behind the counter, talking on the phone. She was very pretty. Probably in her early twenties, she was slender and fit, had long dark brown hair, and perched as she was on a high stool in front of a computer, her legs seemed to go on for miles. Gwen had a brief flash of what they would look like naked and wrapped around her and she felt her face grow warm and quickly headed for the back of the store where the bargain shelves were. If asked what her sexual orientation was, Gwen would have said she was straight. But lately, in the past six months or so since she had broken up with her boyfriend, she had found herself noticing women in a way she never had before. The sheen of dark hair as it fell forward, caressing the face of the girl who counted out her change when paying for a latte. Or the sexiness of a woman’s mid-drift exposed between her halter top and low-slung shorts that she had passed on a sidewalk. It was not the noticing of these things that had Gwen confused, but the desire she had to reach out and run her hands through the girl’s hair to see if it was as silky as it looked, or wanting to use her mouth and tongue to taste the woman’s skin. That’s what was perplexing, as was the clenching of inner muscles these thoughts produced. “Is there anything I can help you find?” a smoky voice asked from behind, startling her. Gwen swung around, cursing her fair complexion as she felt herself blush again. “Um, yeah, sure,” Gwen replied as she reached into her jeans pocket. Pulling out a scrap of paper, she handed it to the girl, reading her nametag. Natalie. “Laura Adams. A great writer. She’s one of my favorites,” Natalie said once she had read the title and author listed. “Is she? I’ve never read anything of hers. A friend recommended it to me.” “If you’ll follow me, I will show you where she is shelved.” Gwen nodded, then took a deep breath and let it out as quietly as possible as Natalie lead her out of the aisle, trying to conceal her awareness of the other girl. Watching the sway of Natalie’s curvy hips that were flattered by her low-rise jeans had |
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great story
