Tis The Season

Kate doesn't care about lights or jingle bells. A secret sits heavy in her belly and she keeps her mouth shut. Her little sister Jade walks past her door humming carols like nothing matters. Even her parents buy the story that she's just tired from school. But Fabula catches her ducking out of the bathroom with the test still in her fist. Two hours later the woman pulls Kate into the guest room at the back of the house, shuts the door and drops the lock. The older woman's eyes run up and down her, slow and hard. Kate's pulse jumps under her skin. "Relax," Fabula says, stepping close, "I know exactly how to settle those nerves." She presses Kate back against the cold wall, palms sliding over her shirt, fingers already working buttons loose. The air shifts, thick and warm. Kate's heart hammers but her body stays put. Fabula's mouth finds the soft spot under her jaw, then lower, teeth grazing, tongue tasting. The fear stays for one more heartbeat, then melts into the slow drag of Fabula's nails down her ribs. Fabula kisses like she plans to erase every thought in Kate's head and it's working. Hands move lower, touch turning greedy. Kate's legs part on their own, thighs trembling, breath catching hard. Her secret is still inside her, but right now only this matters: the scrape of teeth, the wet heat of tongue, the sharp little stabs of pleasure that make her forget her name.