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the kitchen table and took McKayla in my arms.
"Of course," my lover replied. That was a silly question; McKayla read anything and everything she could get her hands on. I bet that she got through the entire book in a few days. "Its a good story."
"You know," I wiped the tears from my eyes. I kissed her playfully. "If I do turn into the tree, Ill protect you and the rest of the elves from the demons."
McKayla pressed against me. Her grasp was firm, almost desperate. I tilted my head back as her lips descended on mine. This kiss was hungry and primal. My arms wrapped around her.
"Youre doing that anyway, Amberle," her whisper was so soft I almost didnt hear her.
I could hear the blood pounding through my veins. I could feel her heart beating next to mine. Her touch was hot. Her face flush. I looked McKayla in the eyes and saw something there I had never seen before. It was more than lust or desire. It was love.
We stood in the kitchen holding one another for a long time. I never felt rushed around McKayla. I never felt like she was trying to hurry me into bed. I loved that she was just as content to hold my hand as to feel me up. When we were together, we could lay against one another without tickling or groping (not that those didnt have their places, though . . .) and be content just laying next to one another.
"Where did you get the book?" I asked finally.
"Theres a store in California that specialises in that sort of thing. One shot collectable type books," she smiled, apparently happy that I liked her gift. "For fantasy geeks."
"It must have cost a fortune," I started. "You didnt have to do that."
"I wanted to," McKayla said simply.
"Well, I love it," I told her. The smile I returned to her was a little subdued, a little bitter. "My parents would have liked it, too."
"What were they like?" she asked.
"They were dorks," I didnt mean that in the bad way. "They liked to read almost as much as you do. They used to play dress-up, too, and theyd make us go along. They belonged to a group called SCA: the Society for Creative Anachronism. Ever heard of them?"
"I have," McKayla grinned broadly. "Dont tell me they used to put you in costumes and take you to Renaissance Fairs?"
"They did!"
"Got any pictures?" she asked teasingly.
"Not that Im going to show you," I retorted playfully.
She leaned in and kissed me again.
"They loved fantasy books and all that stuff." Talking about my parents brought back a flood of happy memories. "When other kids parents belonged to bowling leagues or had poker games, my folks were making my little brother chainmail armour out of paper clips or playing Dungeons & Dragons with their equally dorky friends."
"Its a wonder you turned out as normal as you did," McKayla said and there was something in her voice that sounded
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like she was about to burst out laughing.
"Well . . ." I started and my voice dropped. "Dad gave all that up right after Mom died. He was never the same. Theres a storage building full of their stuff that used to belong to them out at my uncles place, but I havent gone out there in years."
McKaylas hand was under my chin. I lifted my gaze to meet her eyes and tried to smile. "Amberle . . . my little Elven princess . . . you know what?"
I shook my head.
"I used to belong to SCA," she admitted sheepishly. "I havent gone to any events in a while . . . but if youd like me to take you to one . . ."
My eyes got real wide. A thousand things to say raced through my mind, but I couldnt process any of them.
"Ill show you pictures if you want." McKayla was grinning from ear to ear. "Were not all that dorky."
"Not now, my lady," I said, trying to remember how my parents used to talk to each other when at these things. We shared a hungry kiss. I felt her hands reach down, cupping my ass. "Thank you for my book. You dont know how much that means to me."
"Youre very welcome, my love." My heart leapt when she said that word. "Now do I have to slay a dragon to win your favour?"
"You have it, McKayla," I whispered. "You had it the first day I met you. Now make me yours."
"With pleasure."
***********************
The next two months passed in a blur. We settled into a comfortable domestic routine. For someone who said she didnt have much experience in relationships, McKayla was very easy to live with. We spent most weeknights at my place, the weekends at her house.
The sex was great, but our relationship wasnt about that. Around her, I felt free. She was The One. Being out in public with her was still awkward and I started to notice that I became snippy with the guys at work whenever theyd make an off-hand remark about lesbians or homosexuals.
Even in this day and time, some of the folks I worked with still had old-fashioned, Bible Belt attitudes towards gay people. Except, of course, when it involved some hot girl-on-girl action that inevitably ended up with a guy in the middle.
To me, the worst part about what some of my co-workers believed wasnt that they believed the things they did, but that they were just parroting back what their preachers or their parents had told them. It seemed more of a knee-jerk reaction to gays than anything that was thought-out or deliberate. So I kept my mouth shut as best I could.
I did my best not to give myself away as being in a lesbian relationship, but Im sure some of the guys figured it out. I didnt know what my boss would do if he found out; would he fire me? He was a good guy
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