Tangled with Lust: A Life Changing Lesbian Experience by Jennifer Jagger Page B

anything by it, but when she looked at me, my breath caught in my throat. I knew that look.
    “Anything else?” the bartender interrupted, throwing a small towel over her shoulder.
    I knew I should have taken my hand back, but I wasn’t ready. What if she wants it there? I had to wonder. What if she wanted more? I swallowed hard, my eyes scanning over the dress she’d worn to meet the other woman for her blind date. What an idiot that woman must have been.
    If I walked into a bar, saw a gorgeous woman waiting for me with a mini-dress and heels, I sure as hell wouldn’t turn around and leave. It may be because I have always preferred really femme women, but I believe Naomi set that standard for me, all that time ago. We met in college, and we could never just be friends. There was always so much chemistry between us that hanging out was awkward.
    Sitting there in that barstool, with my hand still rested on her bare leg, I realized something: what if she’d been angry with me all that time because she didn’t want to want me? I pressed my fingers a little harder at the thought, and she dropped her head. Oh, lord help me, I thought, if she wants this as much as I do …
    “Tell me I’m not just imagining this,” I said aloud, surprising even myself.
    With only one drink in her, I knew she wasn’t drunk. She was well aware of what she was doing to me when she turned and looked at me as if she were naïve to the sexual tension between us. That damned look had always made me weak.
    “Imagining what?” Yeah, she knew what she was doing.
    My fingers very slowly and gently traced up her thigh, just to tease her. Her thighs were always very sensitive – even ticklish – and she squirmed on the barstool with her eyes pleading.
    I quickly brought my hands back into my lap, straightening out my long-sleeved button-up shirt as if clothing were my biggest distraction. To be honest, I was trying to keep us from possibly making a huge mistake, as impossible as it was to deny Naomi. From time-to-time, I still thought of her as I touched myself, and we had had a volatile break-up, so I think that speaks to her power over me.
    I would have climbed down onto my knees and begged if she would have told me to do it, but Naomi always had more control when it came to withholding from sex. When she broke, however, it was fun to watch her crumble.
    Clearing my throat again was the only way I could maintain any sense of logic without slapping myself. I wanted her to slap me. I wanted her to tease me enough so that I could snap and show her what she’d been missing all that time. I wanted anything to happen to give me the excuse to touch her just one more time. I was beginning to re-think that no explosions guarantee in a new light.
    Great, beautiful Naomi took her clutch from the bar, and slipped off the stool in a way so graceful that all I could do was stare at her. It reminded me of all the times we’d gone out as a couple, and how she had often been too worked up with lust to stay in any one place too long. She would just tell me it was on me , and saunter off to find a cab somewhere. I couldn’t even blink as I watched her then, in that bar. She was trailing off with that sultry sway to her hips when at last, she glanced over her shoulder and grinned.
    “That one’s on you.”
     

2. Can I Get You a Water? - Naomi
     
    I knew I had her under my spell at the bar, but whenever I had started to feel weak around her since our messy break-up, I usually ran. I was livid with Erin for cheating on me about a year and a half ago, and I felt that her kissing that horrible woman was cheating on me. It took us all of six months to be unforgivably at each other’s throats, but to be honest … there was something very exciting about having the sort of passion we’d always had. It was painful to be so sad, but as I was sitting in that bar with her, it all came back to me. I couldn’t help but recall the way we used to make up after our