Getting Lost Read online

  A short squelch of lubricant confirmed Stella’s suspicion that Phoebe would use a dildo. One she suspected she carried with her for personal use. When finally Phoebe’s fingers touched Stella, she flinched, her breath catching in her throat, every muscle in her body constricted in anticipation.

  Gently opening her, Phoebe nestled the head of the dildo in Stella’s centre. “I know you’re ready, but relax, okay?”

  Stella pushed back. She didn’t want to relax, couldn’t even if she tried. The head slipped inside her. It was sizable, but certainly not the biggest she’d taken. Her relief at finally being entered was instantaneous. She felt her whole body flood with indescribable warmth, and as she was slowly filled, her orgasm neared.

  Slowly and deliberately, Phoebe slid in and out, responding to Stella’s body and her urgent moans of encouragement before finally gaining the speed and momentum Stella desperately desired.

  Stella was close, and her frustration nearly boiled over when Phoebe slowed to a standstill, remaining inside her.

  “Your silence is impressive,” whispered Phoebe.

  Stella wriggled in protest; the response of her body gave away her impatient need to orgasm. They played this game—Phoebe bringing Stella to the brink and pulling back—many times.

  Stella screamed for her to finish. “Please, I’m begging you.” The desperation in her voice was unmistakable. “I need this. Please let me come.”

  Phoebe gripped the back of Stella’s neck, thrusting harder and faster—the bed shaking—deeper and deeper, until, with a loud cry, Stella finally climaxed. Waves of glorious orgasm pulsed through her and tears of relief streamed down her face.

  *

  They were the first to arrive at breakfast. It had been dawn when the streams of bright light had first crept through the curtains earlier that morning. Even after sex, and the awkward aftermath, they had arrived at the dining room before anyone else.

  Stella finally plucked up the courage to speak. “Do you ever use your fingers?” She remembered the sweet sexiness of her dream and compared it to the detached Phoebe she had just experienced.

  “Excuse me?”

  “During sex. Do you ever use your fingers?”

  “Of course. Who doesn’t?”

  Stella waited, but Phoebe offered nothing further.

  After another long silence, only broken by crunching muesli and slurping coffee, Stella attempted a different approach. “Thank you for this morning. I enjoyed it.”

  Blushing ever so slightly, Phoebe smiled. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “We had plenty of time, you know.” Stella glanced around at the empty dining room. “I could have taken a turn. I would have enjoyed touching you. I think you’re stunning,” she added a little shyly.

  Phoebe dropped her spoon. “That’s what I hate about all this lesbian business. It’s not about turns, Stella. Just because I do you, doesn’t mean you have to do me.”

  A tone of indifference had crept in, but Stella ignored it. “I’m well aware I don’t have to do anything. But this morning, I wanted to touch you.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted to fuck you, too.”

  Phoebe shrugged, refusing to meet her eyes. “Maybe next time.”

  Stella laughed, almost choking on coffee.

  “What?” Phoebe asked.

  “Maybe next time? Who are you kidding?” Stella was hurting. “Why won’t you talk to me? Trust me just a little, and I promise I will prove to you that I won’t let you down.” Tears threatened to fall. “You wouldn’t even let me look at you this morning. Do you have any idea how much I like you?”

  Phoebe simply stared at her breakfast. Stella wanted to believe her silence indicated she was upset or a little frightened, but unfortunately, she knew she could easily have been angry, insulted, or threatened.

  “I want to help you—”

  “You can’t help me.” Phoebe cut her off.

  Stella lowered her voice. “Try me,” she said gently.

  Phoebe remained silent, and with the lines of communication clearly severed, Stella returned to the room to finish preparing for the day.

  Twenty minutes later, Phoebe returned and sat silently studying her Roman fact sheet. The silence had grown oppressive. “No more than fifteen minutes before Rebecca died, we made love.” The words were spoken quietly, and Phoebe refused to make eye contact.

  Phoebe continued. “I’ve not been with anyone since…”

  Stella sat next to Phoebe on the sofa. She didn’t want to force Phoebe to face her, but she wanted to show her support with a physical presence. She remained silent until Phoebe found the strength and the words to continue.

  “…since Rebecca died.” Phoebe released the most enormous sigh.

  “So this morning was a big step?”

  “Until this morning, I never wanted to be with anyone but Rebecca.”

  “And now?”

  “Things have changed.”

  “Did you feel anything while we were…you were…you know, this morning? Were you turned on at all?” Stella stumbled over her words, hardly remembering a time when she was this nervous.

  “Stella, you’re the first person I’ve cared for since Rebecca. You must know I’m attracted to you?”

  Stella knew that even this brief conversation would take its toll on Phoebe emotionally. She doubted if Phoebe had spoken of this at all since Rebecca died. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” She lightly placed a reassuring hand on Phoebe’s knee. “I appreciate your honesty. I know talking about Rebecca isn’t easy for you.”

  “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

  “This morning, did you give me something you regret giving?”

  “What? No!”

  “Did I take something you weren’t ready to give?”

  “No.” Phoebe looked directly at the floor. “I wanted you to feel good. I guess I’m just not ready to have that reciprocated.”

  “Is that all?” Stella sensed there was something else.

  Phoebe nervously tugged at the hem of her shorts and Stella patiently waited.

  “I feel so guilty,” said Phoebe.

  Stella tried to fill in the blanks. “Are you feeling guilty about wanting me or wanting me to want you?”

  “Sorry.” Phoebe smiled awkwardly. “I know what Rebecca would want.”

  “Phoebe, look at me please?”

  Phoebe slowly raised her head.

  “I understand this is difficult, but I think I know what you want. I have no intention of placing any pressure on you. I’m not in a hurry. I’ll be right here when you finally reconcile what you want with what you can live with, okay?”

  “Will you help me?”

  “Of course.”

  Phoebe placed her hand atop Stella’s and squeezed gently.

  Chapter Fifteen

  While the group toured the Roman Forum in the sweltering heat, Stella waited with takeaway latte in hand, smothered in sunscreen, reading information that had been reported in Australia about Rebecca Dean’s murder. She couldn’t put Phoebe through another question and answer session, so she read the information for herself. Apparently, Rebecca Dean was stabbed, but there was no knife. When the police arrived at the scene, Simon Threadbody and Phoebe were both there, but neither of them saw or heard anything. Both Simon and Phoebe claimed their innocence and concluded that there must have been an intruder. There was no physical evidence to suggest either Phoebe or Simon killed Rebecca. Rebecca was found lying in a pool of blood with one single entry wound from a large kitchen knife. Stella had seen enough police shows to know there had to be blood on Simon and she assumed his clothes and Phoebe’s were taken for forensic testing. She wondered how they had gotten away with it. Then, after realising what she had just pondered, she felt terrible for thinking that Phoebe had somehow gotten away with murder. She hadn’t; she knew that. And she felt awful for thinking it.

  *

  Rectangular in shape, the Roman Forum was an impressive plaza surrounded by the ruins of
Roman government buildings. It never ceased to amaze Stella how some of her group would inevitably moan about walking through the ruins. She personally found they could take her back to ancient times where the forum was the hive of life in Rome. From her vantage point on a grassy knoll, her group were easy to spot. Fifty tourists following a guide holding an orange flag certainly stood out. When Stella guessed that Phoebe could easily spot her, she speed-dialled her number and observed her pull the phone from the pocket of her army green designer brand shorts. Phoebe quickly glanced at the number and answered.

  Pure velvet purred down the line. “Hey, you. What’s up?”

  The smoothness of Phoebe’s voice sent her imagination right back to the hotel room that morning. She had been thinking a great deal about their intimacy. If she were to rate sex on the intensity of an orgasm, Stella had experienced amazing sex that morning. If, on the other hand, she were to rate sex as a coming together of two people, a connection, a mutual desire, then Stella had experienced nothing more than a meaningless, empty encounter. As it stood now, Stella was soaring high from an exceptional orgasm, but it was the result of the emptiest sex she had ever experienced. Confusion was an understatement when it came to how Stella was feeling. She focused on the task at hand. “Can you see me?” Stella asked.

  “What? Weird time to play I spy, isn’t it?” teased Phoebe.

  “I’m sitting on the hill, about one hundred metres directly in front of you. I can see you. I’m just wondering what you had planned for the rest of the day?

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “I don’t know. You, me, coffee, lunch and maybe some wine later?”

  “Sounds like a busy day.”

  “So you’ll join me?”

  “Of course, I’d love to.” Stella watched Phoebe put her hand on her hip. “Have you been spying on me?”

  “Guilty. It seems that my eyes are magically drawn to you.”

  “Oh, you soppy romantic.”

  “What can I say? Italy turns me into some crazy Casanova.”

  “Now I know you’re full of rubbish. I can’t make you out. Remind me what you’re wearing again?”

  “Really, Phoebe? After this morning, you can’t even remember what I’m wearing?”

  Stella watched Phoebe turn away from the rest of the group and cover the handset for privacy. “You weren’t exactly fully clothed when I was paying you so much attention this morning.”

  “I’m wearing a white tank top and black shorts.” Stella watched as Phoebe scanned the hill in her direction.

  “Okay, got you now. And now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I think I like you better as you were this morning.”

  “Phoebe!”

  “Sorry. See you soon.”

  *

  Stella accessed the Internet and planned her day with Phoebe. She knew Rome inside and out, not like a local, but more intricately than a tourist. She reserved a table for lunch at an upmarket restaurant and selected a few quirky little tourist attractions to visit. If they made good time, she would be able to fit it all in before work commitments monopolised her attention before dinner.

  From across the grassed area, a voice called Stella’s name. She glanced over to see Russo holding his arms out by his sides questioningly.

  Shit! The group had finished the tour already. She searched for Phoebe, and she gave a quick smile. Stella leapt up and raced over to the group, reverting instantly to professional tour manager mode.

  After everyone clapped and thanked Lucia, their tour guide, Stella addressed the group.

  “I know you’re all keen to cool down in the shade, or better still, air conditioning, so I’ll be quick. Rome has so much to see and do, as I’m sure you’ve all discovered. Today is the day to do all the things you couldn’t fit in yesterday.” Stella knew some of the group had visited the Vatican and St. Peter’s yesterday, while others shopped and wandered the city. “Because there is so much to see, nothing is organised as a group, but I know of a wonderful restaurant, with air conditioning, that serves the most amazing pasta. I’ll be dining there myself tonight, so if you’re about, feel free to join me. I’ll meet you at the Trevi Fountain at seven. Right now, I’m off to get lost myself. Go, team. Away with you.”

  Keen to do their own thing, everyone rushed off, mostly in the direction of the Vatican, but others wandered toward the shopping precinct. Phoebe remained behind.

  “So, what’s in store for me today then?” Phoebe eyed Stella from head to toe. “You look amazing today.”

  Stella blushed.

  “Plus I know exactly what’s under those clothes.”

  “Stells. Hey, Stells.”

  It was Russo again, and Stella counted to ten before she turned around to watch him approach with one of the girls from the tour.

  He glanced at Stella, then Phoebe, but hid the developing frown well. “Sorry to be a pain, but Kerry here has lost her passport.”

  Stella’s heart sank. The little blond Australian girl was probably only in her early twenties. She looked stressed. Sorting out a new passport would consume Stella’s entire day. But it was her job to help Kerry, and it was Italy after all. Someone always seemed to lose something in Italy. “It’s definitely not in your luggage somewhere?”

  “No. I’m so sorry about this, but we’ve turned my room and my luggage inside out. It’s not there.” Kerry looked genuinely remorseful.

  Stella turned to Phoebe. “Sorry, maybe a rain check? This could take a while.”

  Phoebe smiled, and with nothing else to do, she and Russo headed in one direction, while Stella and Kerry made their way toward the Australian embassy. With Kerry beginning to tear up, Stella gave her a gentle squeeze and assured her she wasn’t the first, nor would she be the last tourist to lose her passport, but either way, the problem would be fixed somewhere around dinner time.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Stella sank into the corner of the sofa and patted her lap. “Come on. Come and take a load off.” Phoebe had trekked all over Rome and looked exhausted. Stella, on the other hand, had sat idly in the Australian embassy for hours and had energy to burn. Phoebe smiled. “Now, there’s an offer I can’t refuse.” With a movement so natural it even caught Stella off guard, Phoebe settled her head in Stella’s lap, pulling Stella’s arm down to rest on her middle. “So, the embassy was outstanding fun?”

  “Riveting. I’ll take you one day.”

  “You sure know how to show a girl a good time.” Phoebe adjusted herself so she could see Stella’s face. “You really do have the most incredible blue eyes.”

  “That’s one of the nicest things you’ve said to me.”

  “I’m shy.” Phoebe winked. “But I thought it the first time I saw you. I knew I shouldn’t be tempted, but I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Why not be tempted?”

  “To protect you.” Her eyes lowered. “And because I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of this.” Then she smiled. “But just looking at you now, I had no hope of resisting you.”

  Stella fidgeted slightly, uncomfortable being scrutinised under Phoebe’s gaze.

  “Have I made you nervous? Only this morning you were complaining about my lack of eye contact.”

  “Well, that was different,” said Stella.

  Phoebe grinned. “Or maybe it’s just that the unfailing and highly desirable tour manager isn’t the cool cat she would like everyone to believe.”

  Stella linked their fingers together. “Or perhaps, being a highly desirable tour manager to one person in particular is all said tour manager needs to focus on.”

  Phoebe sat up and faced Stella, appearing ever so slightly short of breath. “This is where you kiss me, tour manager.”

  Stella leaned in, inhaling Phoebe’s fresh shower scent.

  The tenderness of their barely touching lips felt exquisite. Many moments were spent establishing a rhythm and exploring, ever so gently, the sensation of being in such close proximity with only the merest touch. An aware
ness Stella had never experienced before consumed her; Phoebe’s weight across her lap, the shallow and delicate breath that lingered between their mouths, not to mention the burning desire that was intensifying in her deepest places. This kiss was nothing like their first kiss in Florence. Something told Stella that whatever Phoebe indicated she might want tonight, tender exploration and genuine openness was all she should give. Some things were bigger than the moment, and this moment heralded the beginning of an unknown world.

  It was Phoebe who caved in first. Her hand slid up to Stella’s neck, indicating without doubt, that a sense of urgency had taken over.

  Stella allowed Phoebe to edge her lips apart. The grip on the back of her neck tightened, and the very tip of Phoebe’s tongue found Stella’s bottom lip. Stella was in a heightened state of arousal. Experiencing the sensation of Phoebe wanting her was magical. Stella pulled back.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Phoebe.

  “I want to set a boundary tonight.”

  “A what?”

  “A boundary. You know? A limit to where this should end.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Stella was perfectly serious. She manoeuvred out from beneath Phoebe. “Do you have feelings for me?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Simple question.” Stella sat safely beyond Phoebe’s reach and temptation. “Well, do you?”

  “Of course I do. You know I do.”

  “Good, then that’s all I need to know. The next time we are together, I will be making you feel exceedingly good indeed. Until you’re ready for that, for us, we need to set a boundary.”

  Phoebe sighed, but a cheeky grin turned the corners of her mouth. “Okay, Mother Teresa, what’s your plan?”

  “Kissing. And maybe some heavy petting.”

  “Heavy petting? Do people actually say that anymore? You’ve turned into a nun. What have you done with Stella, my sexy tour manager?”

  “I’m right here, but I’m not wrecking something that could be amazing, not just for a cheap thrill.”