Jules looked at her, stunned. “You’d…show me?”

She imagined Vivian touching herself, which, okay, she’d imagined several times before. The thought that she might see it in real life was almost unbearably hot, and she opened her mouth to say so.

But Vivian cut her off and went red. “Of course not! I meant I’d”—she touched Jules’s hip—“to you.”

“Oh.” Jules tried not to feel disappointed. That was a heck of an offer, after all. “I’d like to watch you sometime all the same.”

“I wouldn’t like that,” Vivian said, but she sounded uncertain. Well, by now she probably knew Jules was good at introducing her to new delights. “What’s the point?”

“You could show me how you like it,” Jules suggested, getting hot again just at the thought. Then she moved her hand to touch the cotton.

And got a shuddering breath in response.

Jules kept looking her right in the eye. “Show me,” she whispered, slid her hand higher, and cupped.

Gasping, Vivian arched again.

Jules slid her thumb around over the cotton, which made Vivian bite her bottom lip and squeeze her eyes shut. Then it hit one particular spot, and Vivian’s hips jumped as she squeaked. Her eyes opened wide again.

Jules held back a groan. Focus. This was about Vivian. “Here’s good, huh?” She rubbed again.

“A little to the, um”—Vivian shook her head—“left.”

Jules moved her thumb.

“No, my left!”

She obligingly moved it again and pressed down hard because, just this once, she could punish Vivian for giving lousy instructions.

But Vivian obviously liked it way too much for it to be a punishment, and Jules decided to forgive her instead. She rubbed until she found a pace that actually made Vivian cry out, then bent down and lapped at a nipple, sucking it in time with her strokes.

Vivian’s body undulated like a wave. She didn’t make any noise, but her sudden, frantic movement against Jules’s thumb was unmistakable. And this time, Jules raised her head so she could watch Vivian’s face, could see the way her head arched back and her eyes shut and her mouth fell open in a silent cry. One of her hands curled into a fist, and she struck the mattress.

Then she writhed her hips, managing, “Move—hand—down—”

Too sensitive now? Jules moved her thumb away from the clit and rubbed gently where she could feel Vivian’s labia through the cloth. She could feel moisture there too.

Vivian sobbed in appreciation and relaxed, shivering gently. She even smiled.

Jules could not have imagined anyone less like the cool woman who cut everyone down to size with one flash of her blue eyes.

But it was the same woman, and she bent and kissed that woman before she could even get her breath back.