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    In Shadows Love, Part One

    Story written on December 30, 2006 by windrider.
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    25 votes, average: 3.12 out of 525 votes, average: 3.12 out of 525 votes, average: 3.12 out of 525 votes, average: 3.12 out of 525 votes, average: 3.12 out of 5 (25 votes, average: 3.12 out of 5)
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    Number of Comments: 1
    Words: 2705
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=63796
    Author Notes:

    Jenny shook her head, trying to understand. “Marina, who are you?”

    “Please,” her smile faded, “don’t ask me that. Not now, ma petite.” Her eyes went smoky and moist. “Someday, when I can … if I can … I will tell you a story.” She struggled to regain composure. “Now come, my Jennifer, the night will not wait for us.”

    They were sitting on Marina’s desk, a catastrophe of papers and pens littering the floor where Marina had swept them off before pushing Jenny down on her back and taking her.  The sex was, as always, urgent and intense.  But at least this time they got to finish.  It was barely afternoon.  Tim was prepping the girls for the three-day intramural swim meet starting tomorrow.  Jenny was looking forward without guilt to spending more time with Marina while he was gone.

     

    Handing Jenny her clothes, Marina ticked her head to the left and gave Jenny a steady, undecipherable look through half-open eyes.  “Do you have a passport?”

     

    Jenny glanced away.  ‘Why would she ask me that?’

     

    Having pulled on her tank top and stepped into her jeans, Jenny posted hands on hips, tilted her dimpled chin defiantly.  “Yes.”  Emphatically.  “I do.”

     

    “Good,” Marina smiled.  “We’ll pick it up on the way.”

     

    Jenny shot her a confused look.  “Where are we going?”

     

    “Paris.”

     

    Marina’s eyes sparkled with sheer delight at the disbelief on Jenny’s face.  She bent down, picked up the papers and pens from the floor, retidied her desk, before turning back to Jenny, her face sobered and her voice softened.  “I want to show you something.” 

     

    Thoughts and feelings tumbled through Jenny like sand turning at the rim of a tidal pool.  “Marina, I can’t….”

     

    “Yes,” Marina whispered, “You can.  Please, ma petite?”  Marina seldom asked for anything.  She stated, expected, sometimes demanded.  She took charge with such seeming confidence.  Asking was difficult for her.  She was afraid to let Jenny see how important this was.  She fixed Jenny with a dark-eyed gaze, as if trying to will her to give her the answer she wanted.

     

    Jenny felt the beginnings of panic stir beneath the surface.  It reminded her of Sarah, all proper and conventional.  And so needful.  No!  I’m not going back to that. “All right. Yeah!  Sure!” 

     

    What are you going to tell Tim,” Sarah’s ghost whispered inside her head.

     

    “Just tell Tim you’re going on a writer’s retreat.” Marina answered Jenny’s thought, not for the first time either.  “It won’t be a black lie.” She blinked slowly in that seductive way that turned Jenny’s insides to water.  “I promise to give you something to write about that even Nicholas will approve of.  Bring your laptop, if you like; it’s a long flight.”  She slipped on a light denim jacket and headed toward the door.  “And you’ll need a change of clothes.”

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