Falling for Jillian Ashley: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance - Page 98

Amy nodded.

“Yes!”

It was an effort, but when she came Amy kept her eyes locked on Sally’s and she could swear that something mystical happened then; that there was a transfer of spiritual energy between them as her spasming pussy again became an epicenter of ecstasy and pumped out her come onto Sally’s leg. Somehow, their souls connected and entwined during this climax and Amy knew that Sally felt it as well.

She knew this would happen. That’s why she told me to keep my eyes open…

Chapter 38

“Very funny,” Sally said two days later, on Monday, walking into Max’s house. It was just after three p.m.; Sally had left work a little early today but hadn’t felt like going home to her empty condo, and because Amy was going to be at her job until a little past five and then meet with her friend Rachel for happy hour, she decided to pay Max a visit to thank him for the bouquet of flowers she was now holding.

He had sent the flowers to her office earlier, with a card reading “Glad you’re not dead.”

Max laughed.

“Well, I am glad you’re not dead,” he said. “My life would be quieter but a lot duller were you to perish.”

“I love you too,” Sally said after sticking out her tongue.

“Why didn’t you just leave them at the office?” he asked as they headed towards the living room.

“No, I want Amy to see them,” Sally said. It really was a beautiful bouquet and Sally could already imagine it on her coffee table.

Max offered to make her a drink.

“Yes, please,” Sally answered. “Whatever it was that you made Amy last time.”

A few minutes later, he joined her on the couch and handed her the white, creamy cocktail. For himself, he had a splash of Scotch in a glass.

“So, how are you feeling?” he asked, after clinking glasses with her. “You two didn’t talk much the other day.”

This was true. During the ride to Carlsbad from John Wayne International Airport, Sally and Amy had sat huddled together in the back seat of Max’s Mercedes, just holding onto each other, not saying anything, both of them trying to process what they had just gone through. To his credit, Max hadn’t pressed and simply played the role of chauffeur.

Sally thought about the answer to his question.

She had been right; she had had nightmares the past two nights. But each time a bad dream had woken her up and her mind finally realized that, no, she wasn’t trapped inside a burning airplane or that, no, she wasn’t feeling herself being torn apart as the plane smashed into the ground, Sally had looked over and seen Amy lying next to her and instantly felt better.

If it had been any other woman, Sally was certain that she would have still felt comforted knowing someone was beside her in bed at those moments. But any other woman would have been just that: any other woman. What Sally knew now was that Amy was not any other woman. After being certain at one point just two days ago that she and everyone else on the plane was about to die, Sally knew now that it was Amy she wanted as she enjoyed this second chance at life they’d been given.

“I feel a little better each day,” she told Max now. “Being back at work helps. And talking to my Mom yesterday was actually helpful also.”

“Talking to your mother usually gives you hives,” Max pointed out.

“I know, but…it was nice hearing how concerned she was. Well, until she suggested that I go see a psychologist friend of hers who specializes in trauma survival and who just so happens to have a lesbian daughter who’s single.”

“Your mother knows a lot of people with unattached lesbian daughters,” Max remarked.

“I know! She’d probably make more than she does as a surgeon if she created an app for meddling mothers to find dates for their gay daughters.” She took a sip from the delicious drink. “Anyway…this is going to sound so cliché but I really do have a greater appreciation for life now. And for time! Like today, for instance; I could’ve stayed at the office longer! I have a bunch of shit to do! But I knew it could fucking wait until tomorrow.”

“Good girl,” Max said, tapping her knee. “Don’t wait until you’re my age before you stop to smell the roses.”

“Definitely not,” Sally agreed. Then, she decided to open up about something else. Lisa was the wrong person to have this talk with, though Sally had considered it earlier today. And her mother was certainly the wrong person. No, Max was who she needed.

“The Incident also made me realize something,” she began.

“That the oxygen masks actually work in first class?” Max asked.

Sally laughed.

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