“I still can’t believe you did that,” Max whispered as she buckled back into her seat belt.

“Did what?” I questioned, carefully putting our dinners in the back of my Jeep, before getting in myself.

Her eyes watched me climb in and reach for the buckle. Then she chuckled. “You’re quite the tease, Gillian Montgomery. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Jack’s probably on the flippin’ phone, even as we speak.”

“Because I stopped you from decking him? That won’t make very good gossip.” I started the engine and headed for home.

“Don’t be coy, oh, innocent one. You kissed me. Right there in the damned restaurant.”

“Excuse me, tall, dark and ferocious; but when I ‘kiss’ you, you’ll damn well know it.” I was momentarily distracted by the slight gasp to my right.

Returning my eyes to the task at hand, I continued.  “And Max? I’m 27 years old. Married and divorced. What in the world makes you think I’m ‘innocent’?” I glanced her way just long enough to waggle my blonde eyebrows at her.

She blushed. Mother of God, she actually blushed. What COULD she be thinking about? Don’t be as ass, Gillian, I mentally scolded myself. I knew almost precisely what she was thinking. I had all but jammed the thoughts in place, hadn’t I? And what was THAT about? I wondered.

Turning into the long drive, I announced: “We’re here.”

“Huh?” She’d been caught daydreaming. “Oh. We’re here. OK.” Her eyes did a quick scan of her surroundings. “I thought we were going to your house?”

Now, I was confused. “We are. This is it. We’re here.” Punching the garage door opener, I waited, then pulled in and shut off the engine. “Something wrong with where I live, Max?”

Giving her dark tresses a quick shake, she answered. “No. Nothing wrong with where you live. You just failed to mention you were wealthy. That’s all.”

“Wealthy?” It took a second for it to register. “No, Max. I’m not. My father is, but...” the tears came at the same instant as the realization. “Shit. I guess I am. Sorry. I...”

Long arms pulled me into a warm, comforting embrace. “Shhh, it’s okay. I gotcha. I gotcha.” Gentle fingers stroked my hair. “I gotcha. It’s okay now.”

Unseen to human eyes, Mysti: the Mistress of Dreams, glimmered beside the Metallic Blue Jeep. She raised a shimmering arm and started to flick her hand when something stopped her. Rolling frustrated, eternal eyes she answered the invisible entity.

“Fine. All right! I said, fine, didn’t I? It won’t matter anyway. It’s only a matter of time before one of them recognizes...See. I told you. Hrmph!”

She was gone in an instant, leaving a trail of ghostly glitter. Naturally, no one noticed.

I pulled back and looked deeply into those warm, concerned eyes. “Max. What did you just say?”

Giving strong shoulders a tiny shrug, she thought for only a moment. “Nothing. I just said I gotcha.” Suddenly, her eyes grew large and that wonderful left brow lifted. “Oh my god.”

“Exactly.” I echoed her sentiment. “For at least twenty five years I’ve been hearing someone say those words. I could no more forget that voice than my own name.”

“Oddly, the voice never meant anything to me. But the way it felt to hold the woman, the one in my dreams...that love and concern came nightly with those words. The fierce desire to protect her and make the pain go away...that, I could never forget.”

“I know this must sound crazy to you, Max. But, I’ve never felt more safe or loved than in that dream. With all the horror that comes before it...in the dream, I mean....nothing has even come close to the way it feels to be in those arms and to hear that voice. Your voice.”

“I...” my tall companion started to respond.

My stomach, which had been basically ignored since breakfast, chose that moment to make itself known. Up went both dark brows as she looked in the direction of the loud rumbling and laughed.

“Swallow the loch ness monster, did ja?”

I smacked her curious hand, playfully. “Very funny. The lock ness monster doesn’t make that kind of noise.”

“Really?” She looked at me in mock surprise. “You know it personally, do ya?”

I had opened the door and was retrieving our dinner. “No. I do not. I skipped lunch is all. Let’s continue this discussion inside. I’m starving.”

She chuckled as we moved inside. “Actually, I skipped lunch too. Wow. Nice digs.” Her eyes took in everything around her, as we moved toward the kitchen.

My father had designed the house long before I was born. He and my mother had always wanted  a huge, old farmhouse; but, with a more central location. So, they had put their dreams together, hired an architect, signed the dotted line, and watched it become a reality. Much of the cabinetry and woodwork inside was my father’s craftsmanship. He was a carpenter of high renown, in his day. Daddy had spent years with each room, getting it just like he and my mother had wanted it to be. Over the years, more modern touches had been added too. I could always tell he still saw my mother everywhere he looked; because every small addition was carefully planned to blend with the original creation. Nothing was ever permitted to replace or detract from what the two of them had created. Strangely enough, I realized, that since his death, I had taken on the pleasant task of maintaining the dream, myself.

I set the food down on the wooden table, in the corner of the sunshine yellow and bright white kitchen. Reaching to grab two tall, cobalt blue glasses, I smiled. No special reason. I just smiled. She had that effect on me. Also, I remembered, at that moment, that she was the first person I’d had here since the funeral.

“I don’t really drink, so I don’t have any wine. How about Pepsi? Diet or non. I also have Orange Juice, Ice Tea, Milk and YooHoo. Anything sound good to you?” I asked, glancing up.

“YooHoo? You drink that, too? I love that stuff. The chocolate, right? I mean, I think the Strawberry tastes like medicine or something. No offense. Oh, and I don’t drink either. So, no problem there.”

I grabbed two ice cold bottles and moved us in the direction of the table. “None taken. I hate that pink stuff. Reminds me of Pepto. Uck. You don’t drink either. Nowadays that’s kind of unusual. Religious thing?”

She snorted and laughed. “I don’t think so. An ungodly abomination like me? Religious? Hrmph. My mother would love that. No. I’m afraid it’s nothing so noble as that. Just a control thing.” She looked up from the chair she was moving out for me. “What?”

I touched her hand, briefly, then sat down. Max could tell I had something on my mind and sat down, scooting our chairs alongside one another. Those  eyes put the blue of my favorite glasses to shame. I searched them for a moment before speaking.

“Max?”

“Hmmm?” She toyed with the lid to one of the rice containers.

“Max, look at me, please.” I waited.

“Gillian, if I said something wrong, I’m sorry. I just...” she stopped when I touched her face.

“No, Max. You didn’t say anything wrong. But, whoever made you feel like you were ungodly or an abomination sure as hell did.” Her eyes rounded in surprise. “I feel pretty confident in my belief that, IF there is a god, he considers you one of his finest creations.”

“You do?”

“I’m not done yet.” I grinned. “This abomination shit pisses me off though, so let’s make a deal. Okay?”

“What kind of deal?” She asked, leaning into the hand still caressing her face.

“This bullshit started long before we met, so I probably can’t take it out of your head. Much as I hate it, I accept that. But, Max? Don’t ever call yourself that in my presence again. Please?”

She nodded slowly, like a chastised child.

“No, Max. I’m not angry with you. I..I just don’t want to hear you or anyone else call you that. Not ever.”

She nodded again and blinked away the pooling tears.

I continued. “If someone else is ever stupid enough to say it in my presence, they’ll find out that short women can pack a punch, too. Since I could never bring myself to hit you, I’ll have to come up with some other way to..um...punish...you.” I waggled my eyebrows, hoping to lighten what had become an uncomfortably heavy conversation.

“Deal.” She raised up and kissed my cheek before I even had time to move my hand. Then she was right back in her chair, opening containers. “Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

Dinner had lasted nearly two hours, as we munched and chattered away. I had never enjoyed a meal so much in all my life. Max told me all about her brother and sister, Mark and Maureen, who were both older than her. I had learned a little bit about her parents, Bonnie and Carl, as well. They were a strict Mormon family and she was, in their eyes, very much the prodigal child. We’d talked about how upset they were when, after all those years and dollars spent in search of her law degree, she had decided not to practice law. I was impressed at the way she’d ignored all the bitching and moaning and created the job she loved to go to every day. ‘LOST AND FOUND’, she called it. Max had merged what she knew about computers, much of her legal training, and her desire to help people find whatever happiness they could, into a wonderful business that helped people find “lost” loved ones. She wasn’t getting rich, she had pointed out, but she was finally in the black. Naturally, her parents considered this a “waste of a good education and hard-earned money”. My friend thought that last part almost funny, since she had put her own self through school; while the family funds supported her brother during his two year “mission” in Brazil. When he returned, it was his turn to go to school. Men, after all, “needed a career”.  We had both laughed hard over that asinine statement.

For my part, I told Max more about my father as well as  what I knew of my mother. We’d talked a little bit about my ill-conceived marriage to John Dalton. That had been a horrible mistake for both John and I; and I still felt badly knowing it had meant the end of our friendship. That loss had been more painful than the divorce, I’d explained. John and I had been friends for a very long time before we married. I think one reason I will always feel regret is that, somewhere inside, I always knew I didn’t love John the way I should have. Not like a wife should love her husband. I also felt like an idiot about his sexuality. If I had not been so afraid of that kind of intimacy I might have noticed his reluctance. As it was, I had just been grateful not to have every date turn into a wrestling match, with my virginity being the sought after prize.

Max had been very understanding about my feelings. She also seemed more than a little surprised to learn that his ‘orientation’ did not bother me in the least.

We had gradually moved into the family room and stretched out on the huge couch, my father called  “the pit group”. He’d said that was what the salesman had called it. I always laughed thinking it an appropriate name for the large, albeit comfortable, monstrosity.

“C’mon, Gillian. You’re just saying that because I’m here and you know I’m gay.” Max finally said.

Shaking my head and rolling my eyes, I pulled my legs up under me until I could rise up onto my knees. She crinkled her brow, obviously watching my movements and waiting for a reply. Rising up on my knees, only to sink down further into the overly soft cushions, I groaned. Max giggled and repositioned herself into the corner so that we were fully facing one another. I held onto the couch with my right hand, to steady myself, and looked right at my tall friend.

“Now, Max. That would be pretty hypocritical of me, don’t you think?” Leaning in slightly, I whispered: “Hmmmm?”

She swallowed loudly, took a deep breath, and used her strong hands on the back of the sofa to press herself more upright and deeper into the corner. “Uh...what..what do you mean?”

A tiny voice somewhere in the back of my mind asked: ‘Gillian, what the hell do you think you’re doing?’ Every other fiber of my being said: ‘shut the fuck up!’

“Max?”

She looked into my eyes, showing some surprise at what she thought she saw there. I watched as she vigorously shook her head. “Yeah?”

“I’m nearly thirty years old and...” I looked at her as she interrupted me.

“No. No. I’m nearly thirty. You’re only twenty seven. No need to rush things. Time will do that all by itself, my young friend.”

Using the interruption to edge myself even closer, I grinned. “Very well. Twenty seven, then. Anyway, as I was saying...” I chuckled at her attempt to crawl into the furniture. “I’ve been dreaming about a tall, beautiful woman coming to my rescue, with love in her eyes, for as long as I can remember. I may be slow on the uptake Gorgeous, but I’m not a total dunce.”

“Um...gorgeous?” In the soft light, I couldn’t be sure whether she was flushed or not. It certainly looked like she was. I rose up further onto my knees and looked down at her legs, which she had drawn up against her. She half smiled. I leaned my head to one side and raised an eyebrow in question. Seeing her confusion, I gently took one foot and tugged. “Gillian, I don’t..” she started.

“Shhh,” I whispered. “This won’t hurt a bit,” I giggled as I pulled the foot toward the space between my knees. Then I took a slow, deep breath before doing the same with the other foot. Her knees were only close to her body now. Not drawn up into it, like before. “Max, I would be a terrible hypocrite if I judged John harshly for loving a man. Especially given the fact that the person of my dreams has always been another woman. Don’t you think?”

While she considered my question, I closed my eyes for an instant to gather courage. I took a breath deeper and slower than I had ever taken before. Then, I pressed her knees onto the couch and climbed up, placing my knees astride her strong thighs. I heard her breath catch in her throat.

“Listen, sweetie..Um, I mean, Gillian.”

I leaned in so I could whisper directly into her left ear. “I like sweetie. When you say it, that is.” Unable to resist, now that I was this close, I slowly kissed her lobe. The shudder was unmistakable.

“Oh god. I mean, ah, Gillian...Sweetie. Lots of women have dreams involving other women. It doesn’t have to mean anything. Maybe it’s just a dream.”

“Mmmm.” I ran the tip of my tongue all around her ear, following her head as she let it fall slightly backward. “I thought of that. Even convinced myself too. For a while.” My tongue reached deep into her ear as my left hand found the back of her head, pressing her closer. I opened my mouth, covering the entire ear and breathed hot air, slowly into the orifice and across her neck. I felt a trembling hand on my shoulders. Unwilling to move from the spot, I took her lobe into my mouth and gently sucked.

“Dear God, Gillian. What do you think you’re doing here?”

There was a sound of desperation in the voice but I couldn’t help noticing that the hands on my shoulders hadn’t moved. I stopped sucking and released the ear, moving to look into her beautiful face. The involuntary groan of disappointment made me smile.

“Max, I’m willing to admit to being less experienced at this than I’m sure you are. Still, I thought what I was doing rather spoke for itself. But, seeing that I was mistaken, let me try to make myself a bit more clear.”

“And how were you going to...”

My face stilled, so near to hers my eyes could barely focus. I could feel her heart pounding as my breasts pressed in close, against hers. Her breath smelled sweet and her eyes were a much deeper shade of blue than I’d seen earlier. Her hands began to tremble against my shoulder blades, as I moved in to capture the lips I had only dreamed about before. My lips were hot as I covered her deliciously soft mouth with mine. My hidden fear was released when I felt her mouth open slightly and press into mine. Very slowly, the tips of our tongues reached for one another. As they met, I felt something akin to an mild electric shock travel from the tip of my tongue to the growing ache between my legs. Strong fingers traveled slowly upward from my shoulders to the back of my head and tangled into my short, but thick hair.

As only the tips of our tongues began to make slow, then faster circles around each other, I let my hand leave the couch and rest alongside her firm breast. She arched gently toward me, almost putting her breast into my yearning hand.

“MMM. Oh Max. You ...oh...jesus..you can kiss.”

Strong hands at the back of my head, pulled my lips back to hers, as her entire tongue fully entered my now very hot mouth. I felt her warm, strong muscle dancing with mine as we pressed closer and closer. It was as though our hearts were racing together. I would have sworn I could feel her pulse in my own chest. My right hand could no longer restrain from caressing the full, firm breast against it. I gently,  lovingly squeezed the round, perfect globe as I pressed my palm into the hardening nipple.

Slowly, pressing into each movement, I felt her long fingers leave my hair and make their way past my neck, across my shoulder and on down to the small of my back. Moaning into my hungry mouth, she pulled my body forward until I was against her strong abs. The sensation was more than I could bear. Beyond anything I had even dreamed. My hips began moving against her as I thrust my tongue deep into her mouth.

“Oh, God.” Max moaned against my lips, pulling me harder into  her and reaching out to drag her swollen tongue across my collarbone.

“Yes. God, yes, Max.” I pressed my hips as close as I could get and began to move faster. Never had anything felt like this. I knew I was about to lose all control when she jerked her head up and stilled her hands. I groaned and ground myself into her, feeling her hands flex twice from the mixed signals she was sending them. “Please,” I begged. “Don’t stop.”

She kissed my neck, too briefly. “Gillian. Sweetie. Oh shit that feels good. No, wait. We can’t do this.”

Grinding harder and faster, I licked her neck and ear. “Sure we can. We’ve been doing fine up to now.” I half chuckled as my hands moved behind her back and pulled her into me again.

“It’s too fast. We can’t..”

“Wrong, lover. It’s not nearly fast enough.”

Max had to laugh at that one. She moved my face to look into my eyes. “Want more do you? Gillian? Are you sure?”

“Why? Don’t I ...ungh..” I pressed the point home. “Don’t I feel sure?”

Her hands clenched and opened two or three more times. “Christ, Gillian. You feel..” The hands clenched again, then, with a long sigh, pressed hard into my lower back. “You feel incredible.”

She leaned forward and dipped her tongue into my cleavage as far as the opened buttons would allow. Crystal blue eyes caught my gaze and, twinkling, clouded over with desire. Max pressed her tongue deeply into the flesh beneath my third button, then let the fully extended flat side pull upward along my neck until she reached my waiting mouth. Surprising me, and disappointing my hungry mouth, she then dragged said tongue across my jaw to my ear. I shivered as her hot breath caressed my flesh.

“Except...” she murmured into my auditory canal.

My pulse rate was headed for the Guiness Book, but I had to know.

“Except what?” My arousal was so intense I had almost forgotten I’d never been with a woman before. ‘God, what if I wasn’t doing it right?’, that nagging inner voice taunted.

“Except this,” she said, tugging at my shirt. “And this,” she looped her long fingers into the belt on my jeans. She lit my world with a smile. “Off, my love. If you’re sure you want this...” Her eyes waited for me to answer.

“Max, my jeans must be soaked at this point. Believe me, I want this...ah...you. I want YOU, love. You.”

“Thank God. Oh, my ....your jeans are soaked?” Her eyes  nearly glowed with the intensity of her desire as she tugged at my still buttoned jeans. “C’mon, Gillian. Get em off. I want to feel you next to me. Hurry up. I’m on fire here, woman.”

I nearly snapped the buttons off my favorite jeans getting out of them. Then my head popped up as I widened my eyes in her direction.

“What?” She asked, a bit impatiently.

“I am not going to be the only one naked here, sweetie.” Waggling my eyebrows and licking my lips, I commanded: “Strip.”

“Huh?” She feigned ignorance.

Down to my sports bra and underwear, I laughed. “You heard me, sexy. Strip. Unless you want me to put these back on.” I pretended to reach for the hastily discarded jeans and shirt. She stilled my hand.

“No no. Keep going. You look,” she licked her lips and took a breath. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Mother of God,” I gasped.

Mysti continues