Bette exited the gallery and strode briskly to her car. She had just spoken to Helena who phoned her upon her arrival home from purchasing ingredients for the romantic dinner she was set to prepare for them that evening. It promised to be delicious.

Securing her seatbelt, Bette settled back into the molded calfskin leather for what she hoped would be a pleasant drive back to the beach house. The latter path to Helena’s was relaxing, and she wanted nothing more than to forget her day and commit her thoughts to quiet reverie. A transpiration of the prior evening’s events came flooding back to her. She smiled as she remembered every word she and Helena had spoken to one another.

They undressed and lazed in front of the fire, stretched out naked, vulnerable, and holding one another. “You must be the most insatiable woman I’ve ever met, Bette,” Helena breathed into the curls behind her ear. They both easily and spontaneously laughed at the unintended rhyming of word and name.

Seizing the opportunity to engage in some linguistic fun, Bette hesitated for only a brief moment, then quickly responded, “You’re not complaining, are you? I mean, that Bette makes you so wet?” And she emphasized the last word as she grinned into Helena’s cheek and awaited a reaction.

On cue, Helena apprehended Bette’s playful intent. She plunged headlong into the frivolity she had inadvertently set in motion. After all, it might be amusing amidst the anxiety which they both sought to escape. “Of course not, my pet,” she pulled back and shot Bette a knowing look before continuing. Her tone turned decidedly reflective. “Lest my desire you should forget, I shall unfold a blanket”

“Near a babbling brooklet, where the waters flow dulcet,” Bette added to her rhyme and dipped her index finger into her paramour’s mouth.

Helena licked her finger lovingly and gazed into Bette’s eyes with the look of seductive supplication, “Will there be a beautiful sunset? That is what I covet.”

Bette leaned in to whisper slowly into her ear, “Lo, painted with a palette awash with hues of scarlet and violet.” She punctuated the corresponding last syllable of each word that had encouraged their impromptu verse. Then to suppress the verbal diversion, with tenderness and deliberation, she delicately tapped Helena’s lips with the finger that had been caressing her lips.

Perhaps it was still a bit frightening, but the allure of Helena grew with each passing day. Her cell phone rang, startling her from her musing. She glanced at the Caller ID. Tina. Again. She quickly resolved to ignore it. Her calls had grown increasingly monotonous. The closer she grew to Helena, emotionally, the more frequent Tina’s calls became. She’d become weary from her pleas. If not for Angelica, she would have nothing more to do with the woman who had partnered her for over eight years.

Bette made a conscious decision to return to her remembrance. In her wildest dreams, never had she imagined such commanding attention from a lover. It was, at one and the same time, unsettling yet euphoric.

Helena reached to suck on her finger as Bette lightly tapped her lips. She wrapped her tongue around it lovingly.  Erotically.

This was only fuel for the fire. Bette realized her passion for this woman was unprecedented. She pulled her hand away from Helena’s mouth and pulled her head close so that their lips greeted one another in an ardent kiss. Word games were over the evening. It was time to display the fervor that only physical lovemaking could arouse.

Bette pulled into the driveway. Her stomach growled in hunger. She was home. Or what she presently knew as such. She may be a distracted woman these days, but the one thing she did know with a certainty was that there was something wonderful cooking inside.