The Aquitaine crew had arrived the night before to a Camp Firefly Falls welcome with a full staff decked out in neon and crimped hair, which they’d been delighted by, and after a full day of team-building activities, trivia night had been a rousing success. Thank Holtzmann, because she and Willa had busted their asses on this week and they’d been abuzz with anticipation.

It was gratifying to see people enjoying something she’d had a hand in. And wow, did she love to see Willa get all het up. Competition in academia was quieter, more subtle, if still as brutal as the competition in sports, and Van was as competitive as anyone, hence the PhD in only four years. There was something about seeing Willa get all buzzed, her eyes alight with competition, that made her wish academia was the same.

During trivia, Willa and Van’s teams had been neck-and-neck for most of the game, answering questions about what year in the future had Michael J. Fox actually gone back to and what model car had Cameron’s dad owned in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off.

Willa was all high-fives and smiles, even doing sexy-as-fuck victory dances when her team scored a tough question. Unbeknownst to the rest of the people there, there was more on the line than a personal popcorn maker as a prize; Willa and Van had their own bet on the outcome. After routing Van’s team in the equivalent of Final Jeopardy, Willa was surely plotting how best to collect.

As she headed back to their cabin, Van was fantasizing about the same. Willa was on clean-up duty, so she had their shared space to herself for a while, and while she’d usually take advantage to play a game or to catch up on journals or email, she decided to tidy up a bit.

Not that Willa had said anything and Van did her best to keep her mess on her side of the room, but Willa would probably be pleasantly surprised if the cabin was cleaner when she came back. Also, if Van were being totally honest with herself, the swamp was getting out of control. Even for her tastes.

So she set to picking some things off the floor, putting clothes in the closet or in the laundry, books on her desk, and other stuff…wherever she could find room for it. She hadn’t needed to bring so much stuff with her, but dammit she liked to be comfortable and nothing made her happier than her collections, so they traveled with her a lot.

She was about to set a Rey figurine on an empty slice of shelf when her phone pinged. Ugh, the university. Checking the message didn’t make her feel any better. More paperwork. She was used to documenting things—every scientist worth their salt was—but the university had brought the art of bureaucracy to a whole new level. A level of hell, to be precise.

This form had to be signed in triplicate and returned to three offices; changing the scheduling of a class required not only the approval of the department chair, registrar, and space planning office, but also their respective great aunts. Also, the grant needed not only a detailed description of what the funds would be used for, but also a DNA sample and the size of your left shoe.

If she could spend that time doing her research instead of dealing with all this bullshit, she could be so much further along. Also, while she’d always been more interested in the theoretical aspects of her field, the practical applications were starting to nag at her brain more and more often. Mostly when she was doing more goddamn administrative work. Coincidence? She had to think not.

What the hell was that supposed to mean? Some of her classmates had felt the siren song of the private sector, lured by money, more flexibility in terms of geography, and in some cases, more resources at their disposal than Van could even dream of. Though she’d publicly congratulated them, in private she’d rolled her eyes. What a waste.

Finest minds in a generation, and what were they being used for? Essentially building a better mouse trap as far as she was concerned. Not True Science™. Which she was now realizing had been a super-dickish attitude to have, but one she’d come by honestly from her advisor and other people she’d worked with closely. To switch to the other side now? No, not a possibility.

Academia was where she was meant to be, where she’d always wanted to be, and perhaps most importantly, where she actually was. The thought of starting over from square one made her want to puke up all the citrus and truffle-oil popcorn she’d consumed during trivia.

Thankfully, her tetchiness was interrupted by the opening of the cabin door. Willa. Dear god, yes. Nothing better to snap her out of this slump than a sexy blonde who owned her ass for the night.

Willa grinned at her from the door. “I’ve got to take a shower because I didn’t get a chance between my last lesson and trivia, but then I have plans for you.”

Yeah, that feeling was every erotic nerve in her body perking up. Van didn’t want to sit here twiddling her thumbs while she waited for Willa. Then she’d talk herself into a funk again, and she wanted to be happy, wanted to enjoy.

But even fooling around with Willa wasn’t unqualified fun times. She felt shitty about lying to Nate, about talking to him less than usual so she wouldn’t have to lie, and Willa was her reason for doing that. But she could let it ride for another week, right? That’s all she had to get through, and then their fling would end amicably and things could go back to the way they were, just with more orgasms than she’d previously had. She shook it off, because she was going to carpe the fuck out of this diem and out of Willa as well.

“Mind if I join you?”

Willa stripped her T-shirt over her head and stood there in a sports bra and her tennis skirt. What had Van done in her life to deserve this? Must’ve been something good, because goddamn.

“In the shower?”

“Yeah.”

“Um, okay. It’s not very big.”

No, it wasn’t, but luckily Van didn’t take up all that much room. “True. Don’t worry, I’ll make myself useful.”

By the way her eyebrow ticked up and her lips curled at the corners, Willa liked the sound of that. “Well, when you put it like that. Sure, gimme a minute.”

That she could do. Soon she heard the shower turn on, and Willa poked her head out the door. “Coming?”

“I sure as heck hope so,” Van muttered under her breath. She stripped off her own clothes on the way, not even having enough patience to wait until she got into the bathroom. Willa was already in the shower stall, tipping her head back under the stream of the shower, looking like some teenager’s wet dream.

Water sluiced down her lithe, muscular body, the spray forming rivulets that called attention to all of Willa’s curves, and Van couldn’t wait to get her hands on them. Luckily, she didn’t have to. She opened the door to the stall and stepped in, trying not to crowd Willa, but also unable to avoid touching her. Gee, darn.

She’d showered that morning and it wasn’t as though being a desk jockey demanded multiple scrub downs, but when in Rome… Van shrugged and grabbed her bar of soap, lathering up while Willa washed her long hair. She’d like to do it for Willa, but didn’t offer. Van wasn’t sure she’d be able to do the best job, what with being shorter than Willa. Sure, she’d be able to stretch and get her fingers to the top of her scalp, but would it really be satisfying for either of them? Better done in a bathtub where they were on more equal footing.

Yeah, for whenever they could be in a tub together. Jesus. That was never going to happen. No future here, folks, and that was for the best.

What Van did feel more than comfortable doing was keeping hold of the soap and rubbing it between her hands until there was a veritable froth of bubbles going up to her wrists. Those bubbles? They were meant for Willa.

She set the soap on the small ledge and reached out for Willa’s back—an innocuous place to start. She soaped Willa from hip to neck, careful not to get any of the lather into Willa’s freshly rinsed hair. Then, on to Willa’s muscular arms and the sides of her ribcage, and then…Van’s slick hands ran over Willa’s flared hips, her thumbs tilted in toward Willa’s spine, and as she went lower, the cleft of her ass.

The woman seriously had one of the finest bottoms known to mankind, and Van sent a silent thank you up to whatever deity had declared Willa would play tennis, the skirts the better to show it off with. She spent far longer than strictly necessary washing this particular part of Willa’s anatomy, and Willa didn’t seem to mind, eventually resting her head against the tiles and exhaling softly.

It seemed only right to slide her hands over Willa’s hips to wash the front of her body—didn’t want to do a half-assed job, after all—so across her hipbones and flat belly, up to her ribcage, and then yes, Willa’s heavy breasts, which Van also took her time with. She pinched Willa’s hard nipples between her fingers and let them slip through before squeezing and kneading her flesh and pinching her again.

Van didn’t think it was her imagination Willa’s breathing had quickened, become shallow, and she wanted to turn it into a different sound. She slicked her soapy hands down once again, insinuating her fingers between Willa’s legs, to which Willa responded by setting her feet farther apart and arching her back. All right, then.

It wasn’t a hardship to work Willa’s clit with leisurely circles, and soon Van found herself pressed against Willa’s backside. The contact felt damn good, and Van had some pretty filthy ideas of what she could do given the right equipment. She had a feeling Willa wouldn’t object to getting fucked that way, but no such luck at the moment. She’d have to settle for other means.

Van went up on tiptoes to grab the showerhead from its mount and brought it down until its spray was directed where her fingers had been. Willa moaned softly and rocked her hips. Good. She’d be content to tease Willa until their water ran cold, but she was also eager to get to the other portion of the evening. So while she wouldn’t describe it as rushing, Van moved on with her plan to drive Willa out of her damn mind.

This included threading her hand between Willa’s legs and pressing fingers inside her from behind. Delightfully slick and eager, Willa pushed back against her. Between the stimulation of the water from the showerhead and the pumping of Van’s fingers inside her, it wasn’t long before Willa’s interior walls were pulsing around Van’s fingers and she was swearing in a completely delightful way.

Taking the showerhead away from where it had been doing its devilish work, Van hung it back in its mount and slid her fingers out from inside Willa. But she wasn’t quite ready to let go, so she circled her arms around Willa, who still had her head resting against the tiles, and laid her own forehead between Willa’s shoulder blades.

It was pleasurable to both hear and feel Willa’s breathing and heartbeat, but they couldn’t stay here forever. They would run out of hot water, and that would be a chilly and shocking end to what had been a rather delightful interlude.

Willa must’ve had the same thought, because she turned in Van’s arms and laid a kiss on Van’s lips before checking them both for soap. None found, she shut off the water and got towels.

They dried themselves off, but when Van went out to find some clothes, Willa tutted at her. “I don’t think so. Your ass is still mine tonight, and believe me, you won’t be needing any clothes.”

Who the hell was Van to argue with that?

* * *

The woman had swagger, Willa had to give her that. She would. That, and a whole lot more. She’d had a few ideas of what to do with her prize, but after the shower shenanigans, she was sure. Van was in for a treat.

“On my bed,” she instructed as she headed for her bureau. On the way there, she noticed Van’s side wasn’t quite as cluttered as usual. “Did you clean up?”

Van shrugged a single shoulder as well as she could from where she was lying supine on Willa’s bed. “Little bit, while I was waiting for you to get back.”

“Looks good.” Willa smiled, pleased, because there was no way Van had done that for her own gratification. No, that was all for Willa, and she appreciated it.

Willa turned her attention back to her sock drawer where she rummaged for what she was looking for. Finding it, she drew it out and held it up for Van to see.

“Is that a—”

“Vibrator? Yeah. Don’t worry, I clean my toys really well.” She had, in fact, purchased this particular vibrator because it was easy to clean. A small seamless bullet connected to the controller by a thin wire.

“Toys?” Van sputtered, with an emphasis on the s. “I mean, don’t get me wrong I love a woman who packs for everything, but damn.”

“Yes, plural, but we’ll stick with this one for tonight.”

Willa strode over to where Van was waiting for her and didn’t waste any time, oh no. She put the vibrator on the cluttered desk and climbed over Van before kissing her thoroughly. Their bare bodies, still warm from the shower, pressed against each other, skin against skin downright decadent. Straddling Van and running her hands through Van’s short, dark hair felt unbearably right, as did the way Van rocked her hips up and moaned into Willa’s mouth.

As much as Willa would like to take her time, luxuriate in the feel of her fantasy’s body against her own, she was also fresh out of patience. So she sat back and took up the vibrator, studying it as though she’d never seen it before. Of course, she had, many times—she and it were in fact intimately acquainted—but this was to tease her creative lover.

She’d always been too shy to incorporate toys with her other partners, but as a fellow scientist, she couldn’t imagine Van would mind some experimentation.

“This little friend of mine has varying speeds.” Willa flicked the control to set the bullet buzzing, and Van’s eyes widened. “So you’ll have to help me out with what you like best. Which I may or may not take into account.”

She grinned back at a glaring Van before flicking the vibrator off entirely. No need to use up the battery when she had something else in mind first. Fingers were an excellent plan, especially since she wanted to feel Van, become familiar with her before she let the toy come between them. Fun it definitely was, but distancing at the same time, and she craved closeness with this woman.

Willa climbed back and then wedged herself between Van’s legs, drinking in the sight of her. Hair as dark as that on her head framed the pink slick core of her, and Willa wanted it all for herself. Maybe sometime she’d taste her, but not today.

She explored Van with her fingers, not failing to notice the way Van’s hands were clutched at her side and the tendons of her neck stood out, strained. She was pretty like this, vulnerable and strong at the same time.

“I like how you look,” Willa mused out loud, hoping her shy words would make Van feel wanted, beautiful in her own way. “I could touch you all over for hours and never get tired. If you’d let me, I’d like to touch inside of you.”

There was a hitch in Van’s breathing, and Willa couldn’t quite tell why. A hell yes or reluctance? Only one way to find out. “Would that be okay?”

Van opened her tightly shut eyes and looked Willa in the face while Willa continued to explore. She’d stop if Van asked her to, but she didn’t want to.

“Penetration…it isn’t for me like it is for you. It’s not a sensation I enjoy, and it’s not something that would help me get off. If you want to, you can because I trust you and I want to make you feel good too, but…” Van’s lips pursed tight, and she huffed a sigh through her nose. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Yes, she wanted that experience, but not at the expense of Van’s comfort. She really didn’t want Van to be sorry—there wasn’t anything to apologize for—but she did appreciate Van had felt the teeniest bit bad about not being able to give Willa her heart’s desire. And yet Van had trusted her enough to say so. Didn’t get much better than that. “It’s good information to have. Maybe I will sometime if it’s really okay with you, but not tonight. Tonight, I want to drive you crazy. I’m not going to do anything that would interfere with that.”

Van smiled, then, looking more bashful than she usually did. “Sounds good to me.”

Willa slid her fingers back far enough to gather moisture that had gathered at Van’s entrance but then drew it up to circle her clit again and—yes, that was the expression she was looking for.

Van’s head dropped back against the pillow, and she made a small, strangled noise. While she was distracted, Willa reached for the vibe and set the control to her side, bringing the bullet to where her fingers danced, laying it against Van’s swollen bud before turning it on low. Van’s hips bucked, and she gasped, her fingers tightening convulsively in the duvet.

“So penetration bad, but vibration good?”

“You could say that.” Van’s breathy response to Willa’s teasing was all the encouragement she needed to turn the knob on the controller, setting the buzzing higher. Van cried out, the sound music to Willa’s ears. So maybe she wasn’t quite as confident in bed with women as she was with men, but she didn’t think she was doing too badly.

Van’s breathing and squirming seemed to have reached a plateau, and Willa wanted to send her higher—send Van right to the moon if she could—so she kicked up the vibe one more time.

That was apparently the magic speed because Van laid her hand over Willa’s and canted her hips up, pressing the vibe against her own clit, and then she was done for, hissing through her teeth and making these choked noises that would’ve concerned her if Willa weren’t entirely convinced Van was enjoying herself. But no, this is what Van looked like, sounded like, when she climaxed.

It brought a swell of pleasure to Willa’s chest, along with wonder. Also, entirely inappropriately, gratitude to Nate for being stupid enough to break his leg while waterskiing because this never would’ve happened otherwise. This chance to be with her crush, who felt…right.

Willa flicked the vibe off and set it to the side and leaned down to kiss Van again. When she broke away, Van had a goofy, pleasure-drunk smile on her face. “Maybe I should lose at trivia more often.”