Title: Learning to Dance 4 :Tempo
Title: Learning to Dance 4 :Tempo
Author: purplerhino
Disclaimer: Yadda yadda… L. Frank Baum, yadda Scifi… yadda yadda don’t arrest me and orphan my cat…
Spoilers: Everything.
Rating: R for content. Not for sex.
Characters/Pairing: DG, Azkadellia, Cain/DG
Summary: Okay, so she was hopelessly in lust. Yeah, she loved him as well, but the love part wasn’t her current problem.
Thanks to my beta readers - erinm_4600, thebigfatman and khadence
And thanks to everyone who has commented so far.
Part One here
Part Two here
Interlude Here
Part Three here
DG was at a loss, and didn’t quite know where to go for advice; or even where to find someone to just listen. This was the time she could really use having some of her old friends from the Other Side to talk to. It wasn’t like she could ask questions of Glitch or Raw… or, heaven forbid, her mother.
She was most definitely in lust with one Wyatt Cain. Her own personal Tin Man, Boy Scout and protector. Okay, she’d been at least slightly in lust with him three days after she met him. Before that, she’d thought he looked damn fine for a man who spent years in a tin suit, and how the hell was he still anything resembling sane? Three days later, she had begun silently thanking the good Lord above every time he collected deadfall for a campfire, as it required quite a bit of bending over. And man did she feel pervy for it.
The man was grieving for his family, helping her as a point of honor and coming across all paternal on her. At least, he was trying to come across as paternal. But she sure as hell wasn’t his kid, and he knew it.
Okay, so she was hopelessly in lust. Yeah, she loved him as well, but the love part wasn’t her current problem. Her problem was that they’d been dancing with each other for the past couple of months, and in the last two, they’d been kissing on a regular basis. And he was a hell of a kisser. One night, last week, they had actually spent near an hour making out. She wondered what he would call it; she didn’t know there were so many variations. Or that such sessions led to a need for lip balm later in the night.
They had touched each other, but only in ‘safe zones.’ That night, the way they occasionally pressed together - not directly touching with hands, per say, but more deliberate shifting, - which urged other movement, and gave ample evidence that they were moving on to more. Had even come damn close to moving on to more that night, but the timing wasn’t right.
And if they didn’t soon, she would find out if it were actually possible to die of frustration.
Which is why she needed advice, because Wyatt Cain was older, and presumably, although arguably, wiser. And, he was a widower. His son, Jeb, was proof he’d ‘been there, done that.’
DG hadn’t.
Her closest encounter with a penis involved three purloined Playgirl magazines when she was sixteen, and she’d been amazed at the variety of shapes and sizes. And that kissing session almost got her closely acquainted. Damn clothes.
So, her only current knowledge of seduction came from Playgirl’s advice column, corny romance novels and movies. And, if her bosom heaved over the top of a bodice, it would be because she couldn’t breathe and was well on the way to asphyxiation from a corset; not from any sort of passion. Although she was pretty sure she knew the proper technique for a blow job thanks to the magazine ‘true’ stories.
She COULD offer to demonstrate that, while waiting for him on his bed… naked. It might work. No, it would give her time to feel stupid and run away. And agonize over the question of whether her boobs were too small.
No, she needed advice from somewhere.
“Az, what do you know about sex?” DG walked into her sister’s reading room, the question as her introduction.
“That it’s needed to produce children. If you need further information, I believe there is a goat farm a few miles from here where you can observe the mechanics of it.” Az didn’t even look up from her book, one hand idly playing with the short locks of her hair. She did that a lot lately.
“Gee, thanks. That was helpful,” DG drawled.
Az did look up now. “DG, what makes you think I would know anything about sex? *I* was not the tramp flaunting myself at anything that could breathe.” Her voice had gone cold, her anger a palpable thing.
Ooooo kay, not the best person to ask. “You know I didn’t mean that. It’s just something older sisters are supposed to know. Or not. I don’t know who else to ask.”
“Your Tin Man, perhaps?” Az’s face softened, but there was still a shadow to her eyes. She was so easy to set off into a downward spiral. DG scolded herself for not thinking this through.
“Precisely who I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to seem like a kid. It’s bad enough when he calls me that. Besides, he’d do a lot of blushing, stammer around and walk off. Of course, I could just tackle him and demand step-by-step instructions. It might work for the end result, but it would still come across as slightly less than sophisticated and experienced.” DG grabbed a handful of grapes from a bowl sitting on the side table.
“DG, if the swollen lips and bruise on your neck last week were any indication, I don’t think he sees you as a child. At this point, mother is waiting to put out the wedding banns.”
DG choked on her grape, having to actually pound on her own chest to dislodge it. “Mom and Dad know?” Her voice was rough from coughing out the fruit.
“It’s the most well-known secret in the castle, because you were so very secretive in almost having sex outside of the stables. In full view of a stable boy and two grooms. Or in the garden, where the gardener was working at the other end, and I believe the second-floor maid was cleaning windows. Word is, she almost rubbed through the glass watching and then dragged the cook off to places unknown.” Az picked up her book once more. “You know much more about the subject than I do.”
“Which maid was it?” DG’s eyes were wide.
“Does it matter?” Azkadellia looked incredulously at her.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
DG grinned. “Because, she’ll evidently be able to answer all my questions.”
“DG, sit down.” Azkadellia pinched the bridge of her nose.
DG sat, perched on the edge of a delicate chair that made her think of Elvin architecture in the Lord of the Rings movies.
Az stood and then crouched before her sister, so they were eye to eye, and took both of DG’s hands in her own. Az’s hands were soft and warm, and strong.
“You know, in this quest of yours, to find out the mysteries of sex, and to seem less like a child…. You are making yourself look like that child. I may not be, erm… intimately acquainted with the subject, but I do know this: making love is a mystery discovered between partners. It’s a dance for two alone. It isn’t a competition, and it isn’t some sport you get judged on.”
Azkedillia let go of one of DG’s hands and stroked her sister’s cheek. “There is a deep, physical attraction, but Wyatt Cain is attracted to you for who you are. For your courage, determination, empathy for others, your spirit and your soul. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t deserve you.”
Az offered up a kind of sad smile. “Don’t try to be what you aren’t. He loves you as you are. And when it is time for you to make love, you have to be yourself then, as well.”
DG didn’t know when her throat had tightened up, or her vision had hazed over. But she felt a tear slip down her cheek as she leaned forward to embrace her sister.
“When did you get so wise?”
Az grinned. “Just after chapter thirty, when my sister swept in so rudely. I had to think of something to say to get her out so I could read chapter thirty-one. Are we done now? Because, I would really like to finish this book and see if the princess gets her white knight.”
DG hugged Az tight again, then let her go and smiled back.
“Hate to ruin the end for you, but the princess is determined, and the knight is far from fighting. The conclusion’s pretty forgone.” DG moved over to pick up her sister’s book of poetry.
“Maybe, but it is fun to read about how they get there. Now, scoot. And I better not hear anything about you talking to the second-floor maid.”