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Molly reaches for her tube of red lipstick holding her pocket mirror up to get a better view of what she was doing. Dutch would be back from his trip to Rhodes any minute now and she wanted to look at least halfway decent when he did finally arrive. He, Arthur, and Hosea had been gone for most of the day now and she could see the golden evening light poking in through the tent flaps saying its last goodbye before the night sky took over. Looking at herself in the mirror she felt almost ridiculous. Getting ready this late just so Dutch could acknowledge her for all of five minutes before going to bed or planning with Micah. Utterly ridiculous.
“What’re you gettin’ all dolled up for? Ain’t it your bedtime?”
The sound of Karen’s slightly slurred voice startles Molly enough to jump where she’s sitting on the edge of the cot. The lipstick she was applying smudges down her chin and she lets out a quiet curse as the the tip breaks leaving the applicator empty. She then goes to set down her compact but it slips, the mirror inside shattering as soon as it hits the wooden planks of the floor.
“Woah,” Karen’s eyes widen at the mess.
Molly looks as if she’s about to kill her, “It’s not late for those of us that refrain from day drinking. And, frankly, it’s none of your business.”
Karen snorts at the hostility, “Damn. Sorry I even asked, your highness.”
Molly’s frustration fills the room as if it’s going to engulf and strangle her where she stood. Karen, pitying her and feeling just bad enough to want to help, sets her whiskey down and starts picking up the bigger pieces of glass. The mirror wasn’t very big, Karen getting most of up in seconds and using the hem of her skirt to sweep the tiny shards back into the compact. As she does she catches sight of the red lipstick tip halfway smashed into the floor.
She straightens and looks back up at Molly who’s scrubbing off what little lipstick actually made it onto her face, eyes desperate and sorrowful with brows clearly irritated. Even with such a sour expression Molly’s beauty nearly made Karen’s breath hitch. Something in her chest tugs at her heart as she looks at her, a feeling as dire and unwanted as a house fire. It terrified her, not only because she was looking at another woman in that way but also because it was Dutch’s woman she was looking at. Yet there was something about the delicate freckles that framed her features and the bright green of her round eyes that made Karen’s head spin more than even the whiskey in her did.
It took all her might to tear her gaze away, turning her attention back to the mess she was suppose to be cleaning. As she set down the broken compact an idea struck her. She supposed it was the least she could do after causing the whole mess to begin with, “Ya know, I got some red lipstick that looks a whole lot like that one. You could borrow it if ya want.”
Molly sat down the red stained cloth and flicked her eyes over to Karen suspiciously. It was true that the two of them had their fair share of animosity toward each other but day after day of witnessing Dutch all but ignore the woman he claimed to care so much for softened Karen’s heart enough to at least pity the poor girl. For the last couple weeks at Clemens Point she’d been trying to be friendly toward Molly in the same way she was to anyone else in the gang. A little teasing here and there. Sharing coffee with her in the mornings. Karen even tried inviting her to sit with her by the campfire in the evening though it was usually then that Dutch would return and Molly couldn’t seem to focus on anyone else. Maybe what Karen felt was partially jealousy along with the pity but she didn’t need to be considering that now.
Molly pursed her lips in consideration, “Alright. Fetch it then.”
Surprising herself, Karen immediately does as told and readily comes back with a plain silver tube. It was no where near as extravagant or expensive as whatever it was Molly was using but it was a similar color that would most definitely suit her well. She held it out to her waiting for her to take it.
“Here you are then, your majesty.”
The smallest of begrudging smiles breaches Molly’s lips. She reached out cautiously and nearly took it but froze, a realization muddying her pretty expression with frustration once again, “I can’t put it on without the mirror and I don’t have another one.”
Yet another idea all but smacks Karen in the head. She was no makeup artist but she was sure that she could trace Molly’s lips with utmost care and attention even if she was tipsy. The thought of being so close to her reigniting that feeling in her chest once gain, the warmth spreading through her quick as a well lit brush fire.
“Well, don’t worry. I can do it, Miss O’Shea.”
She looks at Karen just as wary as before. Molly’s gaze flicks from Karen’s eyes to her lips for no more than a fraction of a second but the motion nearly drives her mad. In that tick of time she seems to come to a decision, nodding her head deliberately and sliding on the cot to make room for Karen.
“Come on, then.”
For the second time that evening Karen found herself following orders without protest; dropping down in the empty spot and opening her lipstick. With the twist of her fingers the ruby point emerges. Karen raises a gentle hand to the side of Molly’s face to hold it in place as she slides the lipstick across her top lip. Every bit of her attention is focused on the angles of Molly’s lip. Each and every groove carved across them like a map she forever wanted to follow. The thought was ridiculous but it was also lovely at the same time.
As she moves across the bottom lip she accidentally makes a mistake while taking that stains Molly’s pale skin just under the ridge where her lip line meets it. Without thinking, Karen rubs her thumb along it, leaving a perfect, clean curve in its place.
Too absorbed in the bottom half of Molly’s face, Karen misses the woman’s eyes flicking between her own then down her lips over and over during the whole thing. Her focus indecisive in the way a hungry, shivering dog would have to choose between a feast and a fireplace. Much like Karen herself, Molly’s mind can’t focus on anything but the concentration in her grey-green eyes and the small opening of her rosy lips. It went on like that for what felt like hours, tenderizing Molly’s heart in a way she didn’t know possible.
“There,” Karen caps the lipstick and admires her work, “Looks pretty good, if you ask me.”
Molly seems lost in thought for a moment before responding, “Thank you.”
She shifts closer to Karen on the cot without thinking, her mind only focusing on her lips. They were rounder than Molly’s, curved and inviting as if Cupid himself lined them taking inspiration from his own bow.
Karen’s eyes grew dark and cheeks warm the closer she got as f Molly’d entire being was overtaking her. She smelled of expensive floral perfume and black tea, a fragrance found herself wanting to drown in. Then there was her face. Molly had the kind of beauty that people wrote books, poems, and songs about. Karen didn’t find it hard to imagine herself singing praises for her to the tune of a crackling campfire or even on a brightly lit stage if she got the chance. Enchanting was the word that came to mind. She wanted to say something then, or ask something, but couldn’t find the words; her mouth gaping like a fish out of water.
Molly noticed the hesitation and paused, “What is it?”
“It’s… nothing,” Karen let out weak laugh, a ridiculous smile spreading across her face.
“Come on,” Molly started leaning closer again, practically beckoning Karen forward with nothing but the wanting look in her eye.
“Not sure you’ll like it.”
“Try me.”
Karen could feel the heat surge through her. She moved her hand up to cup Molly’s cheek, waiting for her to slap it away and look at her appalled. She didn’t. Thank God she didn’t. Instead Molly relaxed into the touch shutting her eyes and turning her face just enough to kiss Karen’s palm. The act smeared red down her chin and all over Karen’s hand. The sight and tenderness of it all sent Karen’s mind reeling, her vision blurring at the edges as if Molly was the only thing she could see clearly. She must’ve blacked out and this was just the vivid, drunken dream she was having. In no world would prim and proper Molly O’Shea be urging Karen to kiss and feel her, smudging her usually pristine makeup in the process. She could do nothing but hope she didn’t wake up.
“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d want me to do more to your lips than put lipstick on ‘em,” Karen felt herself sober up almost immediately upon realizing what she just said. What she just implied.
Molly’s voice came out no more than a whisper, “What if I do?”
Karen still couldn’t believe what she was hearing, or feeling for that matter, but those words were all the confirmation she needed. She reaches up with her other hand, pulling Molly closer before she could let herself hesitate. Their lips come together as if molded for each other and the fire now burning in Karen quickly spreads to Molly like a symphony of flames.
Karen’s hands hungrily move down to gently curved hips, the thick velvet of Molly’s dress hindering her from getting to what she really wanted but she had no right to complain. Her lips move from scarlet lips hungrily down to Molly’s freckled neck. The touch solicits a pretty noise out of her and she wraps her arms around Karen’s neck to pull her closer.
Karen moves back up to Molly’s mouth her tongue asking permission on her bottom lip before tangling with Molly’s own. She gently pushes Molly to lay down onto the cot without leaving where their lips are connected, her arms moving to hold the back of her neck and small of her back as she did. Once she has Molly’s head on the pillow she caresses back the red flyaways framing her face to kiss the woman’s forehead. Karen works her way down Molly’s blushed cheeks, neck, and chest leaving behind the faintest of scarlet lip stains as she went. She kisses every freckle she sees, stopping only when she notices the other woman’s hips bucking up on her leg. Karen slides her hand down the bodice of Molly’s dress, paying extra attention to the softness of her breast through the fabric, until she reaches where her skirt covers her thigh.
Karen looks back up to Molly’s face at the moan she expels. Pure bliss is spread over her features; eyes pleasantly closed and breathe hitching at every touch Karen gives her. Karen’s hand teases her thigh then, getting almost close enough to graze her cunt.
“You want that too?”
Molly lets out another whimper and her hand reaches up to demandingly clutch Karen’s hair. Her voice broken asks he begs, “Pl—please… please.”
Karen complies, wanting nothing more than to make Molly act like this forever. Like a clay figure she could somehow mold into something even more stunning than it already was. Her hand reaches up under her skirt, gliding over Molly’s smooth leg and tugging to get her underclothes out of the way.
All the while Molly pulls her head down to her own, kissing Karen with a passion one usually only read about in erotic novels. Her teeth caught Karen’s bottom lip as the woman’s fingers finally reached the warm, wetness between her legs. Molly moans into Karen’s mouth as she makes circles around her clit smooth and deliberate. If Molly wasn’t hot and bothered just a few moments ago she certainly was now, face burning as she continued to lick her way into the other woman’s mouth. It was all more than she’d felt in a long time, maybe more than she had ever felt with anyone.
As Molly grew more wet under Karen’s movements she slowed down pulled away to adjust her fingers. The loss of contact even for moment caused Molly to whine against her lips until Karen’s middle and index finger ended up carefully diving deep into her. The grip Molly had Karen’s hair tightened making her freeze and pull away from her lips.
“You okay?”
Molly looked at her like she had two heads before replying, her heavily accented voice filled with nothing heat and want, “More than okay. You feel so good but please don’t stop again.”
Karen’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest at the praise and she began moving her fingers again. As she continued thrusting into her she put a thumb over her clit to rub in time with her fingers. Molly was moving her hips in a matching rhythm, her eyes clenched as she sought the release Karen now needed to give her. Karen felt her own underclothes soiling at the sight and sounds of it all but her mind stayed focused on Molly pleasure as it brought forth her own.
They were surrounded by a whole camp of people but it felt as if they were utterly alone, just the two of them. Karen wanted to smile at the thought but shook the notion from her mind and opted to kiss on Molly’s chest instead. She felt the other woman’s hips start to move more sporadically as Karen’s name repeatedly slipped from her tongue almost like a melody she would never get sick of.
“I’m close,” she said between her panting, “Really close.”
Karen, still keeping her hand moving at an even pace, propped herself up and tenderly kissed Molly’s soft cheek, “Shh, I know. I want you to.”
Not but a second later Molly goes over the edge, jerking under Karen’s nimble fingers as she helps her ride it out. It feels like it takes minutes for Molly to come over it, sending a pulse of pride through Karen as she looks down at her. Molly looks like what Karen could only imagine an angel to look like even in this state. How she wishes she could write or draw well enough to capture the glowing warmth of Molly’s being on paper.
The two’s lips meet once more as she pulls her fingers out and smoothes down Molly’s skirt. Molly snakes an arm around Karen’s shoulders, sweetly urging her down to lay next to her. Karen lets her, leaning her head on her shoulder and kissing up Molly’s jaw like its second nature. She couldn’t help but admire her from this angle too. Hell, Karen could imagine admiring her from any and every angle. Yet another ridiculous thought she would surely laugh at later.
Molly’s jade green eyes were bright and beautiful turned sleepy as she stared back at her. There was a genuine smile on her smudged lips now, the usually vain woman entirely uncaring as to how she looked in this moment in order to appreciate Karen from up close. Molly’s eyes grazed over every prominent feature and imperfection on her face with reverence as if she fully understood why God molded her this way. Molly ran her fingers through the now disheveled blonde curls falling lazily in Karen’s face. It was strange how safe and satisfied she felt here her arms. It was not something she’d ever really felt before even with Dutch.
Dutch.
“Shit,” Molly jumped up off the cot and reached for the already stained cloth she had been using earlier, “Dutch is going to be back any minute. If he catches you in here like this he’ll probably kill us both.”
The realization made Karen stiffen. Everything building between them seeming to deflate around them. She already missed the woman’s presence, silently cursing the empty space Molly left on the cot. Everything felt colder now that her arms had nothing to wrap around or lips anything to grace. She had to force herself to sit up, anxiously fixing her ruffled blouse and skirt. Molly was wiping all the stains from her face now, erasing all the evidence that Karen’s lips had been there at all. She tossed Karen the cloth urging her to the same and started fixing her loose hair, fastening the copper curls into a quick braid. She then made to grab a book in an attempt to look less guilty of what the two of them had done.
Karen just sat there watching her somehow still unconvinced that this whole thing hadn’t just been her imagination. She needed to leave in case Dutch ended up sneaking up on them but found that she couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave Molly here to wait for him. She didn’t want to hear the inevitable argument the couple would have over Dutch’s neglect. She also didn’t much like the idea of pretending this never happened even though she knows that’s what they both should do. Before the could help it envy spread through her like the destructive roots of a willow tree.
Molly caught her eye then, her frantic gaze softening at the upset face Karen was sporting. She took a step forward and kissed Karen’s forehead lingering longer than she probably should have, “I’m—“
“Don’t worry about it,” Karen abruptly stood then, uncaringly wiping off the lipstick from her own face and hand before handing the cloth back to its owner. She took a breath and put on a small smile at Molly, “Goodnight, Miss O’Shea.”
Molly looked apologetic but made no move to do anything else nor opened her mouth with another apology. Still maintaining her plastic smile Karen left the tent, entering out into the muggy night air feeling the ghosts of touches she wouldn’t likely get again.