Chapter Text
December 1945 - Belhaven, North Carolina
Greta Gill was all too familiar with the concept of secrets.
She remembers keeping her first secret at the age of six. When Jo told her that she had a crush on Sally Murphy, the blonde haired girl that sat behind Greta in first grade. She would observe how her best friend would stutter around the girl, trying her best to say something nice to her without coming off as someone who’s different .
She remembers being nine years old, racing home as fast as she could from the ball field as soon as the street lights turned on. How she dashed into the alleyway and used the last bit of water in her canteen to wash away the dirt and scrapes on her knees, doing her best to hide the fact that she spent the day playing baseball. Her mother hated the sport, and Greta would be setting herself up for a night without dinner or much worse if her mother found out that her daughter was just thinking about baseball, let alone spending her entire day playing it.
She remembers being seventeen, and how she would get butterflies in her stomach any time Dana would look in her direction. She remembers how they would sneak off into closets or empty rooms with locks to kiss, and how they became more and more reckless as they fell in love with each other. That recklessness cost them not only their relationship, but both of their lives as they knew it.
Greta has gotten used to keeping secrets over the years. Hell, her entire life was one giant secret. She always played her cards close to her chest with anything she did in life. Very rarely did she let anyone in, and when she did, she always kept them at arm's length.
That is, until Carson Shaw showed up.
Carson came hurtling into her life when she least expected it, following closely behind her and Jo on a busy sidewalk in Chicago on a sunny spring morning. Greta remembers laying eyes on her for the very first time, and the unexplainable draw she felt to her. Over that summer, Carson not only became a summer fling, but the person that Greta was willing to risk everything in her life for. She became Greta’s best friend, her lover, and eventually, her wife.
Taking those risks and letting Carson in on the secret that is her life is the reason why she is walking down the streets of Belhaven, North Carolina on a damp evening in December. The streets were packed with shoppers for the holiday season, the twinkling lights shining bright above them. The shops along Pamlico Street are packed with displays of toys and clothes for people to admire. She watches as groups of children pressed themselves against the glass of Higbee’s Toy Store, pointing out what they had asked Santa for Christmas. She smiles at them as she walks by, making her way to the less crowded, yet familiar, hardware store on the corner.
The small bell rings above the door as she enters, signaling her arrival to Bill, the owner of the hardware store. Bill was one of the first people Carson befriended when she moved down to Belhaven, and over time he came to be one of their closest friends and confidants. He was also a friend of Dorothy’s, and the one person in the town of Belhaven that they could truly be themselves around. Bill is sitting at the cashier’s desk, attempting to fix his double-pan scale. He looks up as the bell to the door rings, his eyes lighting up at Greta’s presence.
“Red! What brings you in here?” Bill asks. Greta flashes him a smile as she hears the affectionate nickname Bill had given her shortly after meeting. Rarely did she like people calling her that, but with Bill, it just sounds right .
“Take a guess,” Greta responds.
“Alright, let me see what she sent you in here for. I take it there is a note card involved?”
“Right here. She sent me out with four separate note cards for today. Four!! What the hell does she need that entails a list with four note cards?” Greta huffs as she digs around in her purse, making Bill laugh in the process. She hands over the cards to Bill, who puts his reading glasses on to make out the loopy yet distinct handwriting.
“Well, Red, it looks like she needs a few things for the shop. I know I’m going to have to order at least one of these parts. Not to mention, she has a wood order for that desk she wants to make.”
“Oh, she showed me the plans for the desk! I’m really excited about it because it will give me the chance to do some work from home when the weather is bad. This is going to be her most difficult project to date, but I know she can do it,” Greta says with a smile.
“I have zero doubts about her abilities. The last few things are things you’d be able to pick out. So I’ll hand this card back to you here. You can gather everything in aisle three here. As for the rest, leave it to me and I’ll put together the order for you,” Bill says. He hands the note card over to Greta, giving her hand a loving squeeze in the process. Greta smiles at him, before turning on her heels and making her way to the middle of the store.
Greta looks down at the note card, reading off the small list of things Carson sent her in for. RCA batteries for the radio. 20 and 25 amp fuses. Christmas light bulbs. Work gloves. Socket wrench. This was all stuff that she was familiar with buying for Carson in the past, so she was able to locate each item quickly and efficiently.
As she was reaching for the last pair of work gloves on the shelf, the bell above the door chimes, startling her. She listens to the click of high heels across the tiled floor, making their way over to Bill’s counter. Peering around the corner, Greta watches as a short, yet lithe, middle aged woman gets the attention of the hardware store owner.
“Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me locate someone that lives nearby?” The woman asks. She reaches into her pocketbook, pulling out a folded up newspaper clipping.
“It depends. Who are you looking for, and what do they look like?” Bill responds.
“She goes by the name Carson Shaw. She’s about my height, maybe shorter. Brown hair that goes to her shoulders, and brown eyes. She looks like this. Have you seen her around?” The woman unfolds the newspaper clipping, laying it neatly on the desk. Greta continues to watch with curiosity, trying her best to get a glimpse of the strange woman that is looking for her wife.
Bill makes eye contact with Greta, giving her a very slight nod before holding up a magnifying glass to the newspaper clipping. “Hmm. The name is familiar. I’ve seen her around, but she only comes into town about once a week, if that. Have you checked anywhere else?”
“This is my second stop. The first person I spoke to said to check here, since she’s been known to come in here a few times. No one seems to know where she lives, so I am scoping out the town until I can get enough information together.”
“Uh huh. I can certainly keep an eye out and let you know if I see her. Why don’t you give me your phone number and I can give you a call if I spot her?” Bill asks.
“Oh, that would be wonderful! If you have a pen, I can write down my information. Now, I’m only in town for a few days, so if you don’t see her before Sunday, don’t worry about contacting me.”
“Yes, M’am.” Bill hands the woman a pen and a blank notepad, watching as the stranger takes them both and scribbles down her information. “May I ask who you are and why you are looking for Carson?”
“Oh! Yes, how silly of me. My name is Catherine Taylor. I’m Carson’s mother.”
The words hit Greta like a fastball to the chest. Her heart rate speeds up, her eyes widening as she begins to shake with unease and worry. She clamps a hand over her mouth, backing up the aisle slowly so that she isn’t easily noticed by Ms. Taylor. Time ticks away slowly as Bill says his goodbyes, promising to keep an eye out for Carson as the woman begins to leave. Greta is quick to turn to the side, pretending to look for an item as Catherine exits the store.
When the bell chimes with her exit, Greta slowly makes her way over to Bill’s desk. She notices him staring at the notepad with uncertainty before pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.
“Bill…” Greta whispers.
“Are you okay, Red? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says.
“What has Carson told you about her mother?” Greta asks, handing over the items she needed to purchase for her wife.
“Not much at all, Red. I know about her father and sister, but her mother was never mentioned when it came to the whole family disowning her situation. Why do you ask?”
“Because Carson’s mom left their family when she was ten years old. Carson hasn’t seen or spoken to her in years. Hell, Carson has no idea that she’s still alive, let alone here in Belhaven looking for her.”
“Holy shit. This isn’t good. How do we handle this?” Bill asks.
“I obviously need to tell her before her mom figures out how to find her. Someone in this town is going to lead Catherine to her, and I refuse to let Carson be ambushed like that. As much as I want to hide Carson from this, I can’t do that to her. At the end of the day, it’s her mother. She should be the one to decide whether or not she wants to see her.”
“When are you going to tell her? How are you going to tell her? That’s not exactly easy news to give to a person.”
“I’m not going to hold off on this. If that’s what you’re asking. As for how I’m going to tell her, I will cross that bridge when I get to it,” Greta says.
“Alright, Red. I can try and do my part by getting word out to not give much information away. How about I encourage a few people to find you? That’s going to happen eventually, and you know it,” Bill responds.
“That is fine with me. I’m anticipating for her to find me eventually. I will be at the office every day the rest of this week. If you can have anyone lead her there, that would be our best bet. That way, if Carson does want to meet her, I can have it arranged on Carson’s terms.”
“You’re a good partner, Greta. If there’s anything either of you need, I’m right here. For both of you,” Bill grabs her right hand with both of his, giving her the reassurance she desperately needed in this moment.
“How much do I owe you today?” Greta asks.
“On the house for the small stuff. As for the wood order and the spare part I don’t carry, tell her that it will be around seven dollars. I should have it for her in about a week.”
“Are you sure about the smaller items? It’s not an issue for me to pay you today for all of this.”
“Red, I am absolutely sure. You and Carson are both family. Let me take care of you both.”
“Thanks, Bill. I should go home to her. Figure out how to tell her this on the drive home,” Greta says. She gathers the items in a small bag, moving towards the door.
“Best of luck, Red!” Bill shouts as she exits the shop, the image of the middle aged woman burned into her brain.
***
Greta’s drive home was spent in complete silence.
Her mind could not stop reeling with what had happened earlier in the hardware store. She couldn’t get out of her mind how much Carson’s mom looked like her. How she had the same posture, and the way she walked in her high heels. It was the same walk Carson had any time she had to wear heels on Peaches’ game days, and she noticed that the outer heel on her left shoe was a bit worn, just like Carson’s shoes usually were.
Fuck, she couldnt stop thinking about Carson, either. She thought about how the brunette was going to react to this monumental news. It wasn’t something that she could just easily slip into a casual conversation about their day, along with the upcoming grocery list or the latest troubles one of them faced with their respective jobs. She also couldn’t do it the second she walked in the door. She knew her wife well enough that a huge surprise was not Carson’s thing. The trauma from the morning after the bar and Charlie’s homecoming still sat in the back of her mind. It was the reason she preferred the isolation in the first place. The less opportunity for surprises, the better.
Which is why Greta had to find the perfect time to do this. Not right away, and she couldn’t wait forever, either. She had to do it tonight. As soon as the moment presented itself.
Her heart began to race as she makes the familiar turn at the red pennant flag, signaling that home was close by. She drives the truck down the gravel pathway, approaching their small yet cozy home in the middle of nowhere. Placing the truck in park, Greta cuts the engine and rests her forehead on the steering wheel, willing her heartbeat to slow down for just a second.
Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.
Greta kept repeating the words over and over in her head as she took deep, steady breaths. Counting the number of seconds on her inhales, she closed her eyes, doing her best to will the tears away. She was never this nervous to be home before. Never this terrified to face the one place and one person that she truly loved more than anything in this entire world.
She could do this.
She brought her head up from the steering wheel, grabbing her purse and the bags from the passenger seat as she opened the driver side door. Stepping out of the truck, she closes the door behind her as she makes her way to the house. The air was a lot colder this time of year, but it wasn’t anything she wasn’t used to. She was normally used to a foot of snow on the ground by now, but she still loved how everything remained so green here in North Carolina, even during the holiday season.
Making her way up the back porch, she could see that the lighting was dim inside the house. The doors to Carson’s work shed were locked up tight, indicating to Greta that the brunette was done working for the night. Reaching for the doorknob with a shaking hand, she turns it to the right, pushing the door open to the sanctuary that was their home.
Greeted with a burst of warm air, Greta steps inside of the house. She could faintly hear a Christmas tune playing on the radio inside, and a fire was burning in the wood stove. In the corner of the living room sat her wife, her nose buried in the latest book she had checked out at the library. Carson was wearing her favorite pair of green pants paired with a red, white, and green flannel shirt. Her grey socks were pulled up to her calves underneath her pant legs, and her shoulder length hair was pinned back with a bobby pin. Greta stares at her for a moment, captivated by how her skin glows in the firelight. Carson quickly stood up, marking her place in her book with a note card as she watched Greta come through the door. Her eyes were bright, a grin spreading across her face at the sight of her wife entering their home. “Welcome home, baby. I missed you today!”
“Carse, what is all of this?” Greta asks, setting the bags down on the counter. Looking around, she noticed that the table was set perfectly, adorned with the brand new Christmas tablecloth Greta had purchased at the market last weekend. A small candle was lit between the two place settings, and a bottle of wine was open over on the side.
“You’ve been having a rough few weeks at work. I could tell that it’s really been wearing on you, and I wanted to do something nice. We had some meat in the freezer that I pulled out this morning, and some tomatoes that I had to use by today. So I made one of your favorite meals…” Carson trails off, wrapping her arms around Greta’s midsection and pulling her close.
“Lasagna!?” Greta asks excitedly.
“Yes! It should be done in a minute here. I’m just waiting for it to finish off in the oven. I was going through the recipe cards that we have and found the lasagna recipe you had stashed in the back last year. I remembered how excited you would get for lasagna night at the boarding house during the season, so I pulled the card and gave the recipe a try.”
“That card was Joey’s grandmother’s recipe. I haven’t had it in years. We both learned how to make it when we were thirteen, and I kept it with me during our travels so we could at least make something if we were lucky to have a kitchen. I cannot believe that you went through all this trouble,” Greta says. She pulls Carson in for a hug, resting her lips on the top of the brunette’s head. She never had someone that wanted to surprise her just because, yet Carson did it every chance she could. Pulling back, Greta leans down and places a deep, long kiss to her wife’s lips.
“I love you,” Greta says.
“I love you, too. Let’s eat.” Carson gestures towards the table, moving around to reach Greta’s usual seat. She pulls the chair out, motioning for her wife to take a seat. Greta lets out a little “ oh ” at the gesture, moving to take a seat. She lets herself hover over the chair for just a moment, allowing Carson to push the chair underneath her. Once she settles in, she watches her wife move towards the oven to pull the lasagna out. Carson busies herself with the final dinner preparations, cutting into the lasagna before walking back over to the table. She grabs both plates, bringing them with her to the stove so she could put a piece on each one. When fully satisfied with the presentation, she brings the dishes back over to the table, placing the one in her right hand directly in front of Greta.
“Carson, this looks so good! You followed this recipe down to the letter,” Greta says.
“I tried my best. We’ll see once it cools down enough for us to properly taste it. I also made some fresh dinner rolls to eat with this,” Carson responds, reaching over to grab the basket of rolls for offering. Greta takes one, smiling at her wife as she places one on her own plate before putting it back on the kitchen counter. Carson moves to sit down, pulling in her own chair as she reaches for Greta’s hand.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” Carson asks.
“Mmmm, I think once or twice. But it never gets old hearing you say it,” Greta responds.
“Well, I love you. So much.” Carson reaches over for the wine, pouring them each a glass to go with dinner.
Greta watches as the deep red liquid makes its way into the glass, with little bubbles forming on the edges. She picks up her wine glass, swirling the liquid around before taking a sip. “Is this the homemade wine from the Caione family? The ones that you made the cutting boards for?”
“It is. Sir Tony gave me two bottles as partial payment for that order. I thought it would pair well with dinner tonight. I don’t know about you, but I could definitely use it.”
“Me too. It’s been a rough few days.” Greta begins to cut into her lasagna, watching as the steam comes off the very first bite. She blows on it just a bit, wanting it to cool down before entering her mouth. She takes a bite, letting the taste of basil, tomato, and ricotta explode across her tongue. “Oh my god, Carson. You absolutely did this one right!” Greta exclaims.
“Yes!! I was hoping it would be good!” The brunette exclaims. She excitedly cuts into her own piece, groaning in excitement as she tastes the first bite. “So…did anything exciting happen to you at work today?”
“Not really. I had to go over a lot of sales reports today from the regional department stores. Vivienne wants an update on her regional sales weekly, so I have to give her a call by Friday with the numbers. I also received two more charm school bookings for January. Quite a few of these mothers are hoping that their daughters find love by Valentine’s Day.”
“That sounds a bit stressful. How busy was it in town? Were you able to stop by Bill’s to put that order in for me?” Carson asks.
Greta’s hand froze in mid-air, her mind quickly jumping back to the events at the hardware store earlier in the evening. It was amazing how Carson had the ability to ease her nerves and wipe every bad thought from her brain with just her presence, but this was too monumental to forget. She takes a bite of her food, holding up a finger as she chews continuously. Finding the right way to answer the question without giving too much away.
“Yes I was. Your wood order is going to take about a week, along with that other item he needs to order for you. That is going to cost seven dollars.”
“That’s pretty cheap! I had fifteen set aside for that project, so I might order some more when I see him again. What about the other stuff?” Carson asks.
“He didn’t charge me today. Said to not worry about it,” Greta responds.
“He’s too kind to us sometimes. I’ll slip him a bit extra when I pick up the wood order in a week. How was downtown? See anything interesting tonight?”
“Nope,” Greta said matter-of-factly, shoving another large bite of lasagna into her mouth to avoid answering any further. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t bring herself to get the words out. Why couldn't she bring forth this monumental secret that’s been eating away at her for the last few hours? It wasn’t easy news to break, but she knew that she had to do it.
Maybe it was the surprise dinner. Maybe it was the way Carson went to great lengths to show her love and appreciation for Greta, especially after the rough few weeks she’d been having. Maybe it was the way Carson was looking at her in the glow of the candlelight. As if she had hung the moon and the stars in the sky just for Carson to admire.
At that moment, Greta decided the news could wait.
Swallowing deeply, she reaches across the table and grabs Carson’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Greta stares into Carson’s eyes, trying to convey how much she cares for the woman sitting across from her. The woman she’s worked so hard to build a life with. She gives Carson a soft smile, watching as the brunette’s flashes a grin of her own, those adorable dimples popping up on her cheeks.
They continue to eat their dinner while Greta listens to Carson go on about her latest project, describing the challenges she faces with the way she wants to make this desk. They discussed other things, such as when they were going to go pick out a Christmas tree and whether or not they wanted to try finding a small turkey breast to roast for Christmas dinner.
When they finished eating their respective dinners, Greta stood up first, collecting the plates for washing. They have a system each night when it comes to cleaning up after themselves. Greta clears the table, while Carson packs up any leftovers. They team up on the dishwashing together - Carson washes, while Greta dries and puts the dishes away. The clean up goes faster than normal this evening, since Carson had tidied up as she cooked earlier.
Once they are done, Greta takes a few strides across the house to their bedroom, taking off her earrings and necklace that she wore to work that day. Her dress was starting to feel uncomfortable, and she wanted nothing more than to take her stockings off. She turns on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a warm glow of light. After stripping down and changing into her favorite black night slip, she pulls on her silk robe, tying the sash tight around her waist. Finally comfortable, she makes her way back to the living room, where she sees Carson fiddling with the radio.
“Fancy some music tonight?” Greta asks. Carson’s head quickly turns toward the door frame, admiring Greta’s bare legs in the glow of the lamplight.
“I was hoping that we could have a dance? If I can find something appropriate for us to dance to? Everything is Christmas music or the nightly radio programs,” Carson states.
“Take your time, baby. I can wait.”
Carson turns her attention back to the radio dial, turning it until she finally settles on a station. Duke Ellington’s “Sophisticated Lady” begins to play through the speakers, and it’s the perfect tempo for them to dance to.
Carson walks over and extends a hand to Greta, waiting for her wife to take it. “My lady, do you want to dance?”
“I do,” Greta says, taking Carson’s hand in her own. She gives the brunette a twirl, bringing them both to the center of the living room as they settle and sway in each other’s arms. Her right hand rests on the spot between Carson’s shoulder blades, guiding them both to the slow tempo of the music. Her left hand is clasped tightly in Carson’s right, the brunette’s thumb tracing over her ring finger as she stares into her wife’s eyes.
“I love nights like this. Where the world slows down and it feels like we’re the only two people to exist,” Carson states. Greta smiles back at her, loving how her wife’s eyes were gleaming with love and adoration. She leans in, bringing their clasped hands to the space between their hearts as she presses a kiss to Carson’s lips. She feels her wife smile into the kiss, their hands separating to grab on to each other’s heads. Carson places her hand on Greta’s left cheek, rubbing her thumb over the smooth skin of her wife’s face. Greta parts her lips, allowing Carson’s tongue to slip inside her mouth and tangle with her own. She lets out a low moan, getting lost in the taste of her wife.
The kiss grows heated, and soon enough Greta is walking them back towards the bedroom. She grabs onto Carson’s shoulders, pushing her into the side of the doorframe. Their bodies press together tightly as they frantically kiss, and Greta can feel Carson’s hands running up and down her body. She moves her own hands from Carson’s shoulders to the front of her shirt, undoing the buttons as fast as she possibly could. Their lips break apart, both of them breathing heavy as Carson assists Greta in removing her shirt. The flannel falls to the floor, and Greta reaches behind to undo the clasp on Carson’s bra. She pulls it from the brunette’s chest, flinging it somewhere in the house as she reaches up to grab on to Carson’s breasts, rolling her nipples in between her fingers. Carson tilts her head back, letting out a moan before reaching for the tie on Greta’s robe.
“Get it off,” Greta whispers. Carson gives her a nod, hastily untying the knot and pushing the robe off of her shoulders. It pools around their feet as Greta buries her face into Carson’s neck, nibbling on her wife’s earlobe before running her tongue over the reddened flesh. Carson grabs on to the straps of Greta’s night slip, tugging the garment down and away from her body. Greta stands before her completely naked, her chest heaving for breath as she pulls her face away from Carson’s neck. Her eyes are dark with lust, locked on to Carson’s as she reaches down to undo the belt at Carson’s waist.
The music playing on the radio switches to a more lively jazz tune, but it’s barely heard over the sound of the undoing of Carson’s belt and zipper of her pants. Greta curls her fingers into both the waistband of her pants and silk briefs, tugging downard to rid them off of her wife’s body. Carson kicks them off her feet, toeing off her socks in the process so that she can be just as naked as her wife. Once she is standing again, Greta presses herself into Carson, moaning at the feeling of skin on skin. She reaches for Carson’s right leg with her left hand, bringing it up to circle around her waist. Her right hand moves between them, seeking out the wetness she knows is pooling between her wife’s legs.
“Touch me, please,” Carson moans out. Greta smiles at her, leaning her forehead against her wife’s as her fingers make contact with Carson’s slit. They both groan, Greta’s fingers circling Carson’s clit before dipping into her entrance ever so slightly, then back up again. Carson’s hips rock into her hand, seeking more friction, more pressure, more of everything.
“Bed,” Greta says. She quickly removes her hand, pulling Carson away from the doorframe and towards the sanctuary that is their bedroom. She guides Carson to the foot of their bed, pressing on her shoulders to sit down on the edge. Greta drops to her knees, placing her hands on each of Carson’s thighs to guide them apart. “I need to taste you,” she says.
“Oh, fuck. You’re so amazing,” Carson says. She places her hand on Greta’s head, her fingers tangling in the red locks as she guides Greta’s mouth down to where she needs it the most. With their eyes locked, Greta sticks out her tongue, licking a broad stripe from entrance to clit. Carson throws her head back upon contact, letting out a gasp as Greta’s mouth goes to work on her cunt. Carson leans back, propping herself up on her free arm. She watches as Greta’s head bobs slightly, enjoying the feeling of Greta’s mouth on her cunt.
Greta lets out a hum, enjoying the taste of her wife. She glances up, her gaze meeting Carson’s, and doubles her efforts. The brunette lets out a gasp, her eyes rolling as she throws her head back when Greta sucks her clit into her mouth. Greta takes her right hand, bringing her fingers to Carson’s entrance. She enters her wife with one finger, then two, curling and dragging them exactly the way she likes. She focuses on bringing Carson to the edge, slowing down when she begins to feel Carson’s walls tightening around her fingers. She does this multiple times, working Carson to the edge before bringing her back down. Greta could feel herself growing wetter by the second, and while Carson is distracted, she brings her free hand down to her own entrance, drawing lazy circles on her own clit.
“Oh fuck, Greta. I need to come in your mouth. Please let me come in your mouth,” Carson pleads, rolling her hips up into Greta’s thrusts. Her mouth hangs open, watching intently as Greta’s hand thrusts in and out as fast as possible. She notices Greta’s free hand is no longer on her thigh, and that her shoulder is bobbing ever so slightly. “Fuck, baby. Are you touching yourself?” Carson asks.
“Mhmm,” Greta says, nodding her head enthusiastically as she doubles her efforts. She adds a third finger, thrusting in and out as fast as she can. She can hear Carson’s wetness on her fingers, dripping down her hand and on to her wrist. Greta wraps her lips around Carson’s clit and sucks, curling her fingers into the one spot on Carson’s front wall that drives her insane.
“OH, FUCK! I’m coming!” Carson screams out, her entire body jerking up and forward as she reaches her release. She pumps her hips into Greta’s face, grabbing on to her red locks and fisting them in between her fingers. She comes hard, her cunt fluttering around Greta’s fingers as her orgasm washes over her. When it subsides, she gives a tug on Greta's hair, signaling that she’s too sensitive.
Greta removes her mouth from Carson’s cunt, moving to place kisses on the brunette’s inner thighs. She opens her mouth slightly, sucking as hard as she can on the skin she finds there. She feels Carson’s hips jerk again, and she gives the skin beneath her lips a bite.
“What are you doing?” Carson asks.
“Leaving behind a little reminder. I’d love nothing more than to write the word ‘mine’ right here, but I don’t want to get a pen. So this will have to do,” Greta says.
“That might be the hottest thing you’ve ever done. Do you feel like getting up here so I can return the favor?”
“Fuck, give me your hand, baby. I need your fingers inside of me,” Greta says.
“How many?” Carson asks.
“Two to start.”
“ That’s my good girl ,” Carson whispers. Greta’s quick to get off of the floor at the praise, crawling up to straddle Carson on the bed. She reaches for Carson’s hand, grabbing two of her fingers and bringing the hand down to her drenched core, She wraps her hands around Carson’s wrist, holding it tight between her legs as she leans her forehead into her wife’s. They both let out a gasp, watching as Greta rocks her hips into Carson’s extended fingers.
“Fuck, your hand feels so good,” Greta moans. She moves to kiss Carson on the lips, letting the brunette taste herself on her lips as Greta rides her hand. Greta can feel Carson’s fingertips press firmly on her clit before easing up, dipping slightly into her entrance before coming back up to the swollen bud. Carson breaks the kiss, watching as Greta throws her head back in ecstasy.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. You’re so fucking wet for me. I need to be inside of you. I need to feel you come around my fingers.” She extends her hand, inserting both of her fingers into Greta’s dripping entrance as the redhead throws her head back to cry out.
“ Oh my god. Oh my god. Yes ,” Greta whispers, “ Oh, fuck me baby. I need you so fucking much .” She begins to move her hips in an up and down motion, enjoying the feeling of Carson’s fingers curling and dragging on her inner walls. It wasn’t going to take much for her to finish, she was so worked up from pleasuring Carson that the slightest breeze would make her come. She wraps her arms around Carson’s shoulders, grabbing on to her wife as she gets lost in the pleasure. Carson’s thumb connects with her swollen clit, pressing into the bundle of nerves before swiping at it back and forth. Greta picks up the pace, rutting her hips into her wife’s fingers faster and harder.
“Are you close?” Carson asks, slipping a third finger inside of her wife’s center. Greta nods her head yes , burying her face into Carson’s neck as she digs her fingers into her bare shoulder. She rocks her hips harder, chasing the release that is building deep in her lower belly.
“Be a good girl and come on my fingers. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you come on my fingers?” Carson asks. She uses her free hand to grab on to her breast, circling and pinching the stiff nipple before bringing it into her mouth. She licks at the stiffened bud, swirling her tongue around before sucking on it. Her teeth scrape it ever so slightly, and the combination of sensations hurdles Greta over the edge.
Greta bites down on Carson’s collarbone, rolling her hips before going still as she crashes headfirst into her orgasm. Carson’s fingers continue to move, not stopping their motions as Greta gets lost in the sensations taking over her body. Pleasure courses through her, blooming from her center and spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes. Her first orgasm quickly rolls into another, and she grabs onto Carson’s wrist, holding her hand in place as she rides out the wave. She throws her head back, screaming Carson’s name as loud as she can as she continues to get lost in her release.
Carson’s dark eyes stared at Greta, another wave of arousal coursing through her. The sight of her wife coming undone at her hands was something she would never ever tire of. She watches as Greta squeezes her eyes shut, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to get air into her lungs. Her mouth is hanging open, letting each moan work its way out of her as the last of her orgasm rolls through her body.
Greta slumps forward, leaning her forehead against Carson’s. Their bodies are slick with sweat, the air thick and heavy around them as they breathe each other in. Greta leans in and presses a kiss to Carson’s lips, fisting her fingers through the brunette’s damp locks. Carson reciprocates, opening her mouth so that Greta’s tongue can slip inside and dance with her own. They make out with each other for several minutes, before Greta raises herself up and off of Carson’s fingers. She breaks the kiss, catching her breath for a second before whispering her next command. “Back up towards the pillows, get under the covers.”
“Yes ma'am,” Carson responds, backing herself up and kicking back the covers. She climbs under them, watching as Greta crawls up the bed and slots herself between Carson’s legs. The redhead lowers herself, pressing her body into Carson’s. Their legs tangled together, their breasts pressed against one another as Greta leans in and kisses her wife once again. They get lost in one another, kissing each other until the need for air becomes too much.
Greta pushes herself up, grabbing onto Carson’s right leg with her left hand and brings it up around her waist. She places her left hand on the mattress beside their heads, grabbing on to the fitted sheet for support. Her right hand snakes down in between their bodies, her fingers slipping over Carson’s swollen, wet center.
“Fuck me, baby. Please fuck me again,” Carson breathes out. Her eyes flutter shut, her head tipping back as she wraps her arms around Greta’s shoulders. She gives into the sensations rolling through her body, spreading her legs as wide as she can for Greta’s intrusion. Her cheeks are flushed, sweat beading along her temples as she grips on to her wife’s back, moaning out in pleasure.
Greta’s fingers slip through her folds, dipping into her entrance before coming back up to circle around her clit. She looks down at her hand, watching as her digits move back down and slide into Carson’s entrance. First one, then two. She establishes a rhythm, curling and dragging her fingers along Carson’s inner front wall as she withdraws before entering again. She brings a thumb up to Carson’s clit, circling and swiping at the swollen bud with each thrust. Greta presses the back of her hand to her hips, driving into Carson with force. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good.”
Carson whimpers at the praise, opening her eyes and looking down at where Greta is fucking into her. “Oh my god, you’re fucking me so good. Keep going, baby. It feels so good. You feel so good,” she moans out.
Greta watches as Carson’s mouth drops open, letting out a gasp. She can’t help herself, and dives in for a filthy kiss. Their tongues tangle together, tasting one another as Greta continues to thrust into her wife. Carson breaks the kiss, burying her face into Greta’s shoulder. One of her hands grips on to the side of Greta’s neck, her fingers threading through sweaty red locks. The other is gripping onto Greta’s back, her blunt fingernails digging into the skin for purchase. Greta thrusts faster and harder, adding a third finger into Carson’s dripping core.
“I’m so close, Greta. So close. You’re gonna make me come,” Carson breathes out. Her face and chest are fully flushed, her center tightening around Greta’s fingers as she gets closer and closer to the edge. “I love you. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
“I love you too, baby. More than you’ll ever know,” Greta says. Her eyes water with tears, trying as best she can to make sure Carson understands the gravity of her words. She feels Carson’s walls flutter around her fingers, her wife growing still as the orgasm hits her in full force. Carson’s mouth hangs open, screaming out Greta’s name as her body shakes in the throes of pleasure. Greta keeps still, letting Carson ride out her release and its aftershocks.
Greta didn’t realize how on edge she was from fucking Carson, removing her fingers from her wife’s center before moving her hips so that her center is rubbing into the back of her hand. Carson notices Greta’s shifting movements, and brings her hand down to furiously circle Greta’s clit. It doesn’t take very long, and Greta is rolling her hips into Carson’s hand, leaning her forehead into her wife’s shoulder as her orgasm hits her out of nowhere.
“That’s my good girl,” Carson says. Greta lets out a scream, grasping at the sheets as she feels the sensations of pleasure spread throughout her body. She grabs onto Carson’s wrist with her free hand, signaling that she’s too sensitive and can’t take any more. Her entire body slumps into Carson’s, her chest heaving for breath as she begins to process what just happened between the two of them.
“Holy shit,” Carson says.
“Holy shit, indeed,” Greta responds. She rolls off of her wife, her body feeling hot and sticky from the sweat cooling on her skin. She lays on her side, wiping her fingers on the sheets before reaching for Carson’s hand and intertwining their fingers. Carson turns her head to look at her wife, a grin spreading across her face.
“What got into you tonight? I mean, we’re always pretty intense, but never like this.”
“I don’t really know. Coming home to everything you did. Seeing the wonderful dinner you put together. All because I’ve been having a stressful few weeks. You’re amazing and I don’t deserve you,” Greta says. Tears form in the corner of her eyes, and she’s trying her best to hold back her emotions in the moment.
“Yes you do, baby. Yes you do,” Carson brings their joined hands up to her lips, pressing a kiss to Greta’s fingers before dropping them down to the mattress. “You know, any time I’m with you, is when I feel the most alive?”
“You do?” Greta asks.
“Yeah. It’s better than anything else in this entire world. There are a lot of things that make me happy, but none of them come close to the way you make me feel.”
“That’s all I want, Carse. That’s all I’ve ever wanted with you. You make me feel the same way, and if I had the opportunity to do my life over, I wouldn’t change a thing because it brought me here. It brought me to you,” Greta says. Carson rolls on to her side, bringing their joined hands back up and pulling them into her heart.
“I’d give you the world.”
All Greta could do was nod, and bring herself into Carson’s lips for another kiss.
***
Greta has the most fitful night of sleep.
Her mind couldn’t stop reeling. Couldn’t stop thinking about the interaction between Bill and Carson’s mother in the hardware store. How she couldn’t get the words out to Carson, no matter how much her brain had willed her to do so. She hated that she used sex as a distraction, as a way to run from their problems. It was something she had sworn to no longer do after their first season with the Peaches, but old habits die hard.
Around five-thirty in the morning, Greta decided to stop fighting the insomnia and quietly rose out of bed. Carson was asleep on her stomach, her arms unconsciously curling around Greta’s pillow as soon as the redhead had vacated her spot. Greta’s heart melted at the sight, watching as Carson pressed her face against the pillow, inhaling Greta’s scent. After putting her robe on, she went out to the kitchen to get some coffee made, needing the caffeine to get through the morning. As she waited for the water to heat up, she added more wood to the stove in the living room. Once the coffee was ready, she sat on the couch in front of the fire, staring absentmindedly into the flames as she quietly sipped the warm beverage in her hands.
She knew that she had to tell Carson about her mother. The more that she dragged this out, the worse it was going to be. As badly as she wanted to protect her wife, she knew deep down that this was not her decision to make. It was Carson’s. This was Carson’s mother that was looking for her, and Greta knew that Carson was the one that had to make the decision at the end of the day. With the last gulp of her coffee, she took a deep breath and knew what she needed to do.
She couldn’t wait much longer. She had to tell her wife.
Eventually, she has to get ready for work. Without waking Carson, she manages to slip into the bathroom to ready herself for the day. As she applied her makeup to her face, Greta had figured out what she was going to say to her wife. No matter how she said it, it wasn’t going to be easy news to break, but it was something she could no longer hold back. After getting dressed in her red skirt and pink blouse ensemble, she steps out into the living space, heading back to the kitchen to prepare a second cup of coffee and a small breakfast.
A few minutes later, Carson walks out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. She’s wearing a dark green flannel shirt with a pair of working overalls and muck boots. Her trapper hat was in her hands, and she was placing her new work gloves into her back pocket.
“Morning, baby! You weren’t in the bed when I woke up,” Carson says.
“I couldn’t really sleep last night. I was up around five-thirty and just decided to get up. I’m sorry,” Greta responds. Carson makes her way over to the stove, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss Greta on the cheek before reaching for her coffee.
“Really? I slept like a rock last night. You really wore me out!”
“Yeah, you were definitely out last night.”
“Not that I’m complaining. When was the last time we were like that?” Carson asks. She opens the fridge, grabbing the strawberry jam from the upper shelf. Greta watches as her wife reaches for a warmed up biscuit, splitting it open and spreading the strawberry jam across the surface with a knife. Greta knew at this moment, she had to stop running away from the issue at hand.
She had to tell her. Right now.
“Hey..uh, can I talk to you about something?” Greta asks.
“Sure. is there something that I did? Are we okay?”
“Yeah, we’re okay, baby. But something happened yesterday that I need to talk to you about.”
“Okay…go on,” Carson states as she takes a bite of her biscuit. Greta’s heart begins to race in her chest, a lump forming in her throat as she begins to force the words to come out of her mouth.
“You know how you kept asking last night if anything interesting happened yesterday in town?” Greta asks.
“Yeah, you kept insisting that nothing happened. But now that you’re bringing it up, I’m beginning to believe that’s not the case…” Carson trails off, her eyebrows knitting together out of curiosity.
“So I was at the hardware store, in one of the aisles looking for those fuses you wanted. Someone walked into the store looking for you, trying to see if Bill knew where you lived,” Greta says.
“People are looking for me all the time in this town, though. Bill is usually really good at throwing them off before letting me know.”
“Yeah, but this wasn’t a customer or a nosy townsperson. The person looking for you was insistent on finding you, and is staying in town for a few days to do so.” Greta’s hands started shaking, her eyes darting everywhere except for her wife’s face. She was absolutely terrified at what was about to happen next, but knew that she couldn’t hide this for a second longer than she already had.
“Carson, the person looking for you was your mother.”