Edge of Seventeen (Part 11)
Title: Edge of Seventeen (Part 11)
Author:xjekkix
Word Count: 1180 words
Summary: A chance encounter leading to a chance romance.
Rating: PG-13 - swearing and some almost sexy time
Disclaimer: This is not real.
A/N: Beta’d by csifreak90
Lindsay’s speechless. Her cheeks are suddenly wet. But it couldn’t be from tears - could it?
“Are you…are you crying?” Samantha asks, sitting up straight. She wonders what she’s done wrong.
Lindsay’s never had anyone write a song for her before, and therefore she doesn’t know how to respond. Should she be crying? Laughing? Shouting with joy? All she knows is she wants to hear it played - not just read.
She sits up also and hugs Samantha; both of their bodies still radiating heat and passion.
“Will you play it for me?” Lindsay says, her still naked body slouching against Samantha’s.
Samantha smiles. She can’t stop looking at the girl. She wrote the song full of feelings of longing - feelings that are now long gone, having been replaced with something much more overwhelming - love.
“I don’t have music for it yet but I’ll read you the lyrics,” Samantha says, reaching over the girl to grab the envelope from a pocket.
Lindsay grabs her hand, pulling Samantha back; staring at her with those piercing eyes. “No. I’ll wait. Please.”
Samantha nods, about to speak when Lindsay kisses her, their mouths never breaking contact as the younger girl takes control.
The way she touches, caresses - it’s like she’s done this all before.
Her fingers are long, thin and on a mission. Samantha tries - unsuccessfully - to resist letting them touch her. But they know just what she needs.
Lindsay’s hand retracts slowly and Samantha follows, like she’s been hypnotized to obey every command of those dynamic digits.
A palm on her breast and she gasps; she’s self conscious of them but finally she sees the benefit of having them.
A hand on her stomach scratches at the skin as it inches slowly downward. It stops at her hipbone before pressing further down.
Samantha quickly intercepts, grabbing the hand in her own, lifting them both above her head - anywhere but where she wants them to be.
Her stomach muscles and everything below contract flinch; her hips try to follow the hand.
She pulls from the kiss just as quickly, unable to look Lindsay in the eye.
“Let’s get you home,” she says, awkwardly wiggling herself from beneath a tangle of the redhead’s freckled limbs.
Lindsay’s face scrunches in confusion, watching Samantha dress as quickly as she can. “It’s my birthday. I can stay out as late as I want.” She crosses her arms below her breasts, lifting them directly into Samantha’s line of sight.
“Not anymore. Happy day after though,” Samantha says, turning rapidly around and throwing Lindsay’s shirt in her direction.
“Can’t I just stay? Please? You can take me home first thing in the morning.” Lindsay begs, crawling across the bed.
“I don’t do sleepovers. Sorry.”
Lindsay grins, sitting on her legs and stretching her back straight. Her chest swells - bounces a little - as she flips her long hair over her shoulder. Samantha’s eyes are momentarily trapped.
Snap out of it! she tells herself, trying to think of something - anything - other than the overbearing urge to tear her clothes back off and jump into bed.
“We’ll see about that,” says Lindsay, her voice mischievous.
“Would you please just get dressed?” Samantha says, now impatient - more with herself than anything.
“Are you mad?” Lindsay asks, quietly. She tugs her t-shirt over her shoulders.
“Mad about what?” Samantha pulls at the covers, hastily making the bed.
“I don’t know. You just seem mad.” Her voice gets gradually quieter still, her face looking guilty.
Samantha looks at her and sighs, watching the girl fumble with the zipper on her jeans. She feels bad - it’s not the girl’s fault she’s so irresistible - or is it?
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to get you into trouble,” Samantha says, hugging the girl close to her.
“I’m not a little girl, you know.” Lindsay wraps her arms protectively around Samantha’s waist.
“I know.” She knows this is true. Despite her age, Lindsay has been a grown up for much longer than the 24 hours since turning 18.
Once fully dressed, Samantha ushers Lindsay out the front door and into the car, driving much more carefully this time - precious cargo in the passenger’s seat.
The radio buzzes quietly as they fill the silence with conversation. Mostly Lindsay talks, asking Samantha questions.
For the older woman, it’s strange to reveal so much of herself. Nobody ever asks, and even if they did, she probably wouldn’t tell them. But for some inexplicable reason, she trusts Lindsay - with her secrets and her heart.
They stand outside the front door, giggling like two little schoolgirls when a light comes on and Lindsay’s mother appears, having been out walking the dog.
“Holy shit mom, you scared the shit out of me,” Lindsay says, instinctively putting a hand to her chest and taking Samantha’s hand in the other.
“Sorry. Boy, you were out late. Thank you for bringing her home safely,” the woman says, smiling sweetly in Samantha’s direction.
Samantha yanks her hand away from Lindsay’s, crossing both arms behind her back. She looks down, seeming guilty, but Lindsay’s mother doesn’t know quite what for.
“No problem, Mrs. Lohan,” Samantha says, finally making eye contact. Her cheeks flush and she’s sure the woman knows everything.
“Oh, dear. Call me Dina, lease. Come on in - it’s getting chilly out.”
She follows Lindsay and Samantha inside the house, locking the heavy wooden door behind her.
Samantha gulps loudly enough that Lindsay’s mother hears it and offers her a drink.
While she’s gone to the kitchen to get Samantha a glass of water, Lindsay nuzzles her chin into the DJ’s neck.
“I think my mom likes you,” she says, giggling as she places her lips below Samantha’s jaw.
Samantha wiggles away in a panic and holds Lindsay a safe distance away. “I don’t think she would if she knew what we were up to earlier.” She gives the girl a stern look, trusting her to keep her hands to herself before she lets go.
Lindsay does, but winks seductively at the woman just before her mother returns. She yawns, handing Samantha a glass of ice water.
“I need to get to bed girls. Samantha, you’re more than welcome to stay. The guest room next to Linds’ is made up but none of her other friends came back.”
Without waiting for a response, the older Lohan climbs the stairs and slams a bedroom door behind her.
“Guest room, my ass,” Lindsay scoffs, taking a sip from Samantha’s glass. “There’s plenty of space for you in my room.”
She sets the water glass, empty, on a nearby table and drags a reluctant Samantha down the hall.
“I can’t stay,” Samantha yells in a whisper.
“And why not?” the girl asks, opening her bedroom door.
“Your mom is just upstairs!”
“So? Haven’t you ever been to a slumber party before?”
Samantha looks at Lindsay disapprovingly. She’s been to slumber parties, but never with a girl she just slept with.
“Come on. It’ll be fun,” she says, pushing the older woman inside, locking the door behind them. “We could play truth or dare.”
Author:xjekkix
Word Count: 1180 words
Summary: A chance encounter leading to a chance romance.
Rating: PG-13 - swearing and some almost sexy time
Disclaimer: This is not real.
A/N: Beta’d by csifreak90
Lindsay’s speechless. Her cheeks are suddenly wet. But it couldn’t be from tears - could it?
“Are you…are you crying?” Samantha asks, sitting up straight. She wonders what she’s done wrong.
Lindsay’s never had anyone write a song for her before, and therefore she doesn’t know how to respond. Should she be crying? Laughing? Shouting with joy? All she knows is she wants to hear it played - not just read.
She sits up also and hugs Samantha; both of their bodies still radiating heat and passion.
“Will you play it for me?” Lindsay says, her still naked body slouching against Samantha’s.
Samantha smiles. She can’t stop looking at the girl. She wrote the song full of feelings of longing - feelings that are now long gone, having been replaced with something much more overwhelming - love.
“I don’t have music for it yet but I’ll read you the lyrics,” Samantha says, reaching over the girl to grab the envelope from a pocket.
Lindsay grabs her hand, pulling Samantha back; staring at her with those piercing eyes. “No. I’ll wait. Please.”
Samantha nods, about to speak when Lindsay kisses her, their mouths never breaking contact as the younger girl takes control.
The way she touches, caresses - it’s like she’s done this all before.
Her fingers are long, thin and on a mission. Samantha tries - unsuccessfully - to resist letting them touch her. But they know just what she needs.
Lindsay’s hand retracts slowly and Samantha follows, like she’s been hypnotized to obey every command of those dynamic digits.
A palm on her breast and she gasps; she’s self conscious of them but finally she sees the benefit of having them.
A hand on her stomach scratches at the skin as it inches slowly downward. It stops at her hipbone before pressing further down.
Samantha quickly intercepts, grabbing the hand in her own, lifting them both above her head - anywhere but where she wants them to be.
Her stomach muscles and everything below contract flinch; her hips try to follow the hand.
She pulls from the kiss just as quickly, unable to look Lindsay in the eye.
“Let’s get you home,” she says, awkwardly wiggling herself from beneath a tangle of the redhead’s freckled limbs.
Lindsay’s face scrunches in confusion, watching Samantha dress as quickly as she can. “It’s my birthday. I can stay out as late as I want.” She crosses her arms below her breasts, lifting them directly into Samantha’s line of sight.
“Not anymore. Happy day after though,” Samantha says, turning rapidly around and throwing Lindsay’s shirt in her direction.
“Can’t I just stay? Please? You can take me home first thing in the morning.” Lindsay begs, crawling across the bed.
“I don’t do sleepovers. Sorry.”
Lindsay grins, sitting on her legs and stretching her back straight. Her chest swells - bounces a little - as she flips her long hair over her shoulder. Samantha’s eyes are momentarily trapped.
Snap out of it! she tells herself, trying to think of something - anything - other than the overbearing urge to tear her clothes back off and jump into bed.
“We’ll see about that,” says Lindsay, her voice mischievous.
“Would you please just get dressed?” Samantha says, now impatient - more with herself than anything.
“Are you mad?” Lindsay asks, quietly. She tugs her t-shirt over her shoulders.
“Mad about what?” Samantha pulls at the covers, hastily making the bed.
“I don’t know. You just seem mad.” Her voice gets gradually quieter still, her face looking guilty.
Samantha looks at her and sighs, watching the girl fumble with the zipper on her jeans. She feels bad - it’s not the girl’s fault she’s so irresistible - or is it?
“I’m sorry. I just don’t want to get you into trouble,” Samantha says, hugging the girl close to her.
“I’m not a little girl, you know.” Lindsay wraps her arms protectively around Samantha’s waist.
“I know.” She knows this is true. Despite her age, Lindsay has been a grown up for much longer than the 24 hours since turning 18.
Once fully dressed, Samantha ushers Lindsay out the front door and into the car, driving much more carefully this time - precious cargo in the passenger’s seat.
The radio buzzes quietly as they fill the silence with conversation. Mostly Lindsay talks, asking Samantha questions.
For the older woman, it’s strange to reveal so much of herself. Nobody ever asks, and even if they did, she probably wouldn’t tell them. But for some inexplicable reason, she trusts Lindsay - with her secrets and her heart.
They stand outside the front door, giggling like two little schoolgirls when a light comes on and Lindsay’s mother appears, having been out walking the dog.
“Holy shit mom, you scared the shit out of me,” Lindsay says, instinctively putting a hand to her chest and taking Samantha’s hand in the other.
“Sorry. Boy, you were out late. Thank you for bringing her home safely,” the woman says, smiling sweetly in Samantha’s direction.
Samantha yanks her hand away from Lindsay’s, crossing both arms behind her back. She looks down, seeming guilty, but Lindsay’s mother doesn’t know quite what for.
“No problem, Mrs. Lohan,” Samantha says, finally making eye contact. Her cheeks flush and she’s sure the woman knows everything.
“Oh, dear. Call me Dina, lease. Come on in - it’s getting chilly out.”
She follows Lindsay and Samantha inside the house, locking the heavy wooden door behind her.
Samantha gulps loudly enough that Lindsay’s mother hears it and offers her a drink.
While she’s gone to the kitchen to get Samantha a glass of water, Lindsay nuzzles her chin into the DJ’s neck.
“I think my mom likes you,” she says, giggling as she places her lips below Samantha’s jaw.
Samantha wiggles away in a panic and holds Lindsay a safe distance away. “I don’t think she would if she knew what we were up to earlier.” She gives the girl a stern look, trusting her to keep her hands to herself before she lets go.
Lindsay does, but winks seductively at the woman just before her mother returns. She yawns, handing Samantha a glass of ice water.
“I need to get to bed girls. Samantha, you’re more than welcome to stay. The guest room next to Linds’ is made up but none of her other friends came back.”
Without waiting for a response, the older Lohan climbs the stairs and slams a bedroom door behind her.
“Guest room, my ass,” Lindsay scoffs, taking a sip from Samantha’s glass. “There’s plenty of space for you in my room.”
She sets the water glass, empty, on a nearby table and drags a reluctant Samantha down the hall.
“I can’t stay,” Samantha yells in a whisper.
“And why not?” the girl asks, opening her bedroom door.
“Your mom is just upstairs!”
“So? Haven’t you ever been to a slumber party before?”
Samantha looks at Lindsay disapprovingly. She’s been to slumber parties, but never with a girl she just slept with.
“Come on. It’ll be fun,” she says, pushing the older woman inside, locking the door behind them. “We could play truth or dare.”