Ch. 1 - Black Wedding
The confrontation was going to happen tonight. It had to. "This party ain't big enough for the both of us" kinda thing. I'd been delaying it for as long as I could.
Even so, I was surprised when a hand lightly gripped my left shoulder, distracting me so that when I looked to that side, another hand reached over my right shoulder to claim my beer.
"Hey! " I turned to vent my ire on the thief, but my words froze on my lips as I looked into the amused blue eyes staring down at me.
Unrepentantly, the villain took a sip of my beer.
"Mmm. This is nice! I was going to give it back to you after you tell me why you're avoiding me, but I think I'll keep it."
"Hi, Rachel," I said, then sighed. "Sit down. Stop making the place look untidy."
She smirked. She had every right to, since the very low, very short, very sexy hunter green dress she was almost wearing was absolutely not contributing to any untidiness.
"Lauren's helping Mika with something," I added. Which, if I considered Rachel at all devious, and I totally did, could be the reason she'd waited until now to strike.
"Hi, Mandy. " Rachel eased herself into the seat beside me without releasing her grip on my beer. She tossed her long pale blonde hair back so that it fell clear of her chair. "Nice hair color. Were you hoping I wouldn't recognize you?"
I shook my head. My hair was dark peach now, still curly, but I'd not had any illusion of being able to hide from Rachel.
The short, glossy skirt rode even higher on her thigh as she fitted herself into the wooden chair. Not that I noticed. Nor did I notice how her breasts quivered under the tension of the dress's spaghetti straps, or how perfectly the small glimpse of skin at the side implied the shape of what was hidden. I wasn't even looking.
I was looking. I was totally looking.
Pale blue eyes met mine as I forced myself to look up. She raised an eyebrow.
Ah, what the fuck. "Busted," I said. "Busted by a bust."
Rachel laughed at that, giving me the most genuine smile I'd yet seen, but it immediately turned wicked. "Nothing you haven't seen before," she said, casually.
"Uh... um, yeah." Goddamn it. I was thirty. I was too old to be flubbing my words, or for my cheeks to scorch, but my voice and face hadn't got the message. Yes, of course I'd seen her naked, but I hadn't expected her to be so brazen as to remind me of it.
"Guess I was expecting tee shirt and jeans," I said.
"No way. This is a party, not a rock show. And you ditched the jeans, too."
True enough. I was wearing an unpretentious black dress with a lace hem. "I didn't really know what to expect."
She took another sip of her beer. My beer. "So, are you done with distractions? Are you going to tell me what's going on, while you still have a drink to rescue?"
"Keep it," I said. "I'll get us more."
She shook her head. "I don't want to wait that long. It's been months now. You owe me the tale of why you're avoiding me."
I didn't answer immediately. I felt my cheeks warm. Not having my drink to stare at, I focused on the table.
"I thought we had a great time together," Rachel said. "I don't understand why you cut me off."
"We did," I said, at last. "I did. But it was one time, right? It didn't make us girlfriends."
With one eyebrow raised, Rachel studied me. Her long fingers were still wrapped around her beer. "Not being overly attached to a one-night stand isn't the same as shunning me like a religious zealot. Did I do something wrong? Do I embarrass you?"
Her tone was ironic, but her eyes showed some hurt. I'd neither intended nor expected that. "No," I said, too quickly. "No, that's not it. It was..." I glanced around, looking for the waitress. Hoping for an interruption. No such luck.
"It was..." I tried again. "Look. I saw you drop whatever it was you had in your pocket. Molly, I'm guessing? I saw the look in your eyes when you struck out. I knew that if I hit on you, you weren't in a strong position to say no. Especially with skin to skin contact, if it was molly."
Rachel's lips twitched. The hurt look seemed to have faded. "So you caressed my back and I melted into your arms, and now you think you raped me?"
"Well, no, not quite," I said. "Except, yeah, kinda."
"You don't think I was able to make my own choices?" Rachel asked.
"Were you?"
"I'll admit I've made bad decisions on E," she said. "You weren't one of them. I didn't hit on you first, because you're a friend of Lauren's, but when you took the initiative..." She shrugged. "Who am I to argue?" She followed her comment up with a wicked grin. "How long did you have to wear a scarf?"
The recollection of her teeth on my neck hit me soundly, and I shuddered as a spike of arousal accompanied the memory. "Several days, but okay, it was totally worth it."
Her eyes glinted as she caught my reaction. "So will you stop hiding from me, now? Or do I need to remind you of other ways we connected?"
I conceded. "I won't lie. It was a good night. But how much of it was...?"
"The E?" Rachel suggested. "I have the same question. I've...."
She cut herself off as a woman pulled out Lauren's chair and sat down, uninvited. She was also wearing black, but her dress was much more of a statement than mine. Maxi length with lots of lace, long sleeves, and raised, tight, impressive cleavage. Her golden-haired head was turned to Rachel.
"Rachel!" she said. "I wasn't sure if you'd come." Then she turned to me, holding out a hand. "I'm Rose."
"Uh, hi." I had no idea who this woman was from Adam. Or Eve. But I took her hand politely. "I'm Mandy. Mandy Perry."
"Okay, right," she said. "This is Mika's table."
"Technically, I guess," I said, "though I've hardly seen her."
"Yeah, we've been keeping her busy," said Rose.
Mika, my best friend's fiancée and my landlord, was an artist and wedding photographer, who'd achieved some local fame with photos of the band whose party we were attending. Which was how I'd merited an invitation. I had no idea what this Rose had to do with anything.
Rose still hadn't released my hand.
"Oh, if you're one of the organizers, maybe you could tell me what's going on here?"
"I could, but I won't," Rose said, finally releasing my hand, very deliberately stroking my fingers as she drew hers back. Glancing between Rachel and me, she raised an eyebrow. "Are you two together?"
"No," I said, instantly, while Rachel shook her head, frowning.
One corner of Rose's lips quirked upward. "We're planning to continue the party afterward. Maybe you'd like to join us."
"No, she wouldn't," Rachel interrupted, before I could ask who she meant by "we" and what everyone would be celebrating. Rose turned a raised eyebrow to her, while I scowled at her for speaking for me. She still wore a frown. "I mean, maybe she would, but I'm not letting her go anywhere until we've finished our chat."
"You can come, too," Rose suggested. "You can talk as much as you like."
Rachel smirked. "Talk first. Mandy can find you after that, if she wants."
Rose didn't seem at all put out by her rejection. "Suit yourself," she said. Her eyes held Rachel's before she turned away. "You know what you'll be missing."
"I don't know what I'd be missing," I griped, when the woman was out of earshot.
"She's Michelle's girlfriend," said Rachel, naming the band's vocalist-slash-front person, whom I'd lusted after from the audience several times now. "Or... or whatever she is. They're not exclusive. She propositioned me in Michelle's company."
"And that was... where?"
"Michelle's bedroom," Rachel said, unapologetically. "Yeah, that's what you'll be missing if you don't take her up on her offer before she finds someone else."
"And you turned that down on my behalf?"
"Only delayed!" Rachel objected. "You can go find her, but we are going to finish our conversation."
I pursed my lips. "Okay. What did you want to say?"
"So, yeah. You said it was a good night. I thought it was a good night. Maybe the E made me more receptive, but I don't think it had much to do with how well we gelled. I've never... felt the kind of connection before that I did with you."
Her cheeks seemed to have turned uncharacteristically pink. It felt like she was confessing something that she'd prefer to avoid.
"So I think the connection had nothing to do with drugs, and everything to do with chemistry," she said.
"How long have you been waiting to use that pun?"
"Maybe a while," Rachel admitted. "I planned to seduce you at New Year so we could... investigate for ourselves. I didn't use, but you weren't there."
"At the New Year's Eve show? No. As you pointed out, I was avoiding you. Sorry you had a boring night."
Rachel grinned at me. "Not boring. That's where I met Rose. And Michelle. And after that, I swore off E entirely. So I'm ready for an investigation if you are."
"Hmm." My reply was non-committal because I still felt uneasy about how I'd manipulated her. And maybe because I'd had a better time with Rachel than I was willing to admit. How much of my reaction to her was because of the drug - because she was so eager to please me?
She sighed. "You should go find Rose before it's too late."
I shrugged. "I dunno. She and Michelle are both hot, but I've never seen myself as a groupie, and I've never been a fan of threesomes."
"Will you at least tell me that you'll stop running away from me?"
"Yeah, yeah," I said. "It seems increasingly pointless."
A waitress drifted close. I caught her attention and asked for beer for each of us. I expected Rachel to abandon me to find a more amenable partner, but she stayed.
"So what do you think this party is for?" she asked. "Has Lauren told you anything?"
"Just that they wanted Mika as the band photographer." I shrugged. "I know they're working on a new album. Maybe it's for the release or an award or something. Rose said we would be celebrating."
"Yeah, but we're already at a party. What are we celebrating now?"
"I have no idea."
Lauren stopped by our table at one point. She seemed surprised to see the two of us sitting together with no drawn knives, but all she said was that she was going to be helping Mika for a while longer, and would be back with us when she could. She refused to give us any clue as to why we were there. She wouldn't even admit to knowing why the party was happening, but there was a twinkle in her eye that made it clear she did.
"The invitation said Black Valentine's day," I said. "Of Darkness invites you to a Black Valentine's celebration. Maybe that's all it is? The band's gear is on the stage, maybe it's just a Valentine's party that they're playing. Maybe they'll perform the new album."
Twenty minutes and another round hadn't taught us anything more than we both really enjoyed this beer, and were going to have to find other sources for it than a random, likely never-repeated party. Maybe The Englishman would carry it. They sold a lot of weird craft shit.
There was the pop of a microphone being connected. I looked up to discover that the whole band had moved onto the stage. I'd caught a glimpse of Michelle earlier, but none of the others. Now Sydney was wearing her guitar, Jon was adjusting the chair behind his keyboard, and Bianca was lightly tapping her drum kit, for a reason I didn't know, and probably wouldn't understand.
"Hey!" said Michelle, and the partygoers responded with cheers. Unusually for her, she was wearing a black trouser suit and a black shirt with black tie. Normally she wore jeans and an open shirt.
"Thank you for joining us, my friends," Michelle said. After another round of cheers, with some questions called out about why we were partying, she grinned. "You all probably know that we started life as a tribute band, playing only covers. We haven't covered another band in a while, so we're going to make an exception this evening. And I want to introduce you to someone you probably haven't met."
Rose, who'd been standing beside the low stage, stepped up and moved over to Michelle, carrying a mike. She'd acquired a black lace hat from somewhere.
"Rose is going to be joining us for this number. She's never sung with us before."
Rose spoke into her mike, but nothing happened, and her voice didn't carry over the sound of the party.
"I think you need to turn it on," said Michelle, looking pointedly at the mike.
Rose turned the device over in her hands before finding the switch. "Hello?" she said, her voice emerging from the speakers. "I said, I've never sung with anyone before. Not since high school."
"Rose isn't joining the band," Michelle said, "but I wanted her to share this one. Are you ready?"
The audience yelled agreement, and Michelle nodded to Jon, who began a simple theme on the keyboard. bree bom bom bom bom bom bom bom-ba bree bom bom bom...
Rachel startled. She turned to me, eyes wide.
After a couple of bars, Michelle's voice joined in, still without the rest of the band. Priest, are you there? Do you hear my voice? ...
"Holy fuck," Rachel yelped. "I know what's happening."
About half of the party guests had left their tables and had begun to dance before the band. Rachel grabbed my hand and dragged me to join them. I think she'd have pulled my arm out of its socket if I'd tried to refuse.
Rose had begun to sing. She didn't have Michelle's presence, but she held her notes fine. Mother I am here / I can hear your song / I can feel your fear / she's done you wrong
Rachel released me, then swiveled to stand beside me, pressing close so that she could shout in my ear. "Mika isn't here because she's taken photos of the band before," she shouted. "Or maybe that's part of it, but she's here because she's a fucking wedding photographer."
I would have loved you for a thousand years / I would have died for you
"So how do you know this?" I asked. "What's the song?"
Rachel's deep cleavage compacted as she pulled me closer. But with her lips against my ear she wouldn't be able to see me ogling.
"It's 'Black Wedding' by 'In This Moment'," she yelled. "We're at a fucking wedding!"
This time I did turn, finding Rachel's lips disturbingly close to mine as I sought her ear to reply. "Rose and Michelle?"
"Has to be, I guess," she replied.
Till death do us part / You were unholy right from the start / It's a nice night for a Black Wedding
"And they want another girl in their bed for their wedding night?"
"Why not?" Rachel asked. "You should talk to Rose again. This really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."
"Nah," I said. "That feels even more weird."
When the song ended, several people didn't want to return to the tables, but Michelle persuaded them to sit. "Drink service will continue at the tables," she said.
Our glasses weren't empty, but I caught our waitress's eye when I could for refills. Lauren returned before the drinks arrived.
"We know what's happening now," I said, grinning at her.
"I'm sure everyone does," agreed Rachel. "I thought Mika was winding down her wedding photography business."
"Not exactly," Lauren said, "she's taking fewer new clients, but she has a full load of prior commitments. She wouldn't have had today available, but she was keeping it open for a date night, since it's Valentine's. And we both leapt at the chance when Michelle contacted her."
"That must be what she was talking about when I... uh. When I overheard, um, what she said."
I smirked at Rachel. "You know, when you blush, the color goes all the way down past your neckline."
"You're still noticing," she said, her eyes merry.
"I've already been busted. I'm just surprised that you get embarrassed."
"I don't, really," Rachel replied. "I just hate talking myself into a corner."
Our drinks arrived. I noticed Lauren eyeing Rachel and myself before adding her own order.
As the waitress left, there was another small click from the stage.
"Okay," said Michelle. "I think we're ready to begin." I noticed that Sydney and Bianca had left the low stage, while Jon sat at ease behind his keyboards. "So now that everyone knows what's going on..."
"We were going to elope to Vegas," Rose interrupted, having no trouble with her mike this time. "But Michelle has this crazy idea that her fans and friends would want to be here."
"So instead," Michelle continued, "we brought Las Vegas here. We hired Elvis to travel from his wedding chapel!"
There was a moderate cheer for this news, and we all followed the gazes of Michelle and Rose as they stared at the main door. Which meant that we didn't see a figure enter through the catering entrance until a murmur arose in that area, followed by laughter as a slight, slender, aging man with long, dark hair and round blue glasses emerged from between the tables, carrying a glass of beer.
The laughter became a cheer. Ozzy Osbourne turned, a bemused look on his face.
"I thought Ozzy was taller than that," I yelled to Rachel. "And, well, less alive."
"An Ozzy impersonator seems a better choice for Michelle than Elvis," she said, beaming.
Rose and Michelle turned to study the figure as he ambled toward them.
"Is this the fucking wedding?" he asked. His voice had just the right buzz, and to my ear, the exact slurred British accent that I'd heard Ozzy using in interviews. However, the voice was clearly feminine, affecting a low pitch.
"Yeah, it is," said Michelle. "Where's Elvis?"
"Oh, yeah, I have a note," Ozzy said. He said? She said? Probably best to consider Ozzy a drag act, and refer to him as he. He transferred his beer to his other hand. As clumsy as he seemed, he managed this without spilling a drop. He pulled out a grubby sheet of paper, shaking it out, then taking it under his chin to straighten it one-handed. "Yeah, I have a note about that. Elvis has left the fucking building."
"You're his replacement?" asked Michelle, doing a good job of seeming incredulous.
"What?" asked Ozzy, looking confused. "I'm not fucking Elvis. Where's the wedding? The couple."
"That's us," said Michelle. In the background, Jon softly played the recognizable opening three chords of Black Sabbath.
"No, you're the fucking band. I know about bands, you know. I used to be in one. Oh, yeah, do you need an 'armonica player? You could use fucking something, you know."
"Uh, no," said Michelle, scowling at him. "And we're the couple. And the band, or I am."
"You two? That's fucking great. I thought you were sisters. Are you ready to do the, do the fucking thing? I have a note here." He dug through his pocket again, retrieving what looked like the same paper. Again, slopping the beer around, without spilling a drop. This performer was good. He stepped up onto the low stage, losing his footing until Michelle caught his arm so he wouldn't fall backward, while he kept a tight grip on his paper.
Sydney and Bianca returned to the stage to stand with the couple, as witnesses, I assumed, while Ozzy squinted at his paper.
"We can skip the dearly fucking beloved part, can we?"
"I think you have the wrong script," suggested Rose.
Ozzy turned the paper over one-handed. "Fuck. Right. Which one is partner A?"
By the time they made it to the vows, even Michelle and Rose, who clearly knew the routine, were having trouble maintaining straight faces.
He squinted at the paper one more time. "By the authority vested, you know, in me, by a state that should fucking know better, I pronounce you, what, wife and wife? Which one do I tell to kiss the bride?" he asked. "You know, fuck, you can both kiss the bride."
After that happened, which took a long time, with plenty of cheering, Ozzy announced, "I'm done. Are you sure about the 'armonica?"
This time Sydney took his arm, turning him around and leading him to a table to sign a paper, after which Ozzy took off his glasses for a moment, suddenly looking much more feminine while giving the congregation an out-of-character grin. Ozzy received his (her?) own cheer, before leaving the stage to sit with an older guy whom I recognized as the band's manager.
The band returned to their places. Unusually, Bianca acted as their spokesperson. "We're not having any speeches," she said, "but let's give Rose and Michelle a final round of congratulations before we party. There'll be snacks, and you all are welcome back on the dance floor." She lifted a champagne glass. The wait staff had quietly been delivering champagne and occasional sparkling apple juice to the guests during the - for want of a better word - ceremony, in preparation for this.
"Most of you may be meeting Rose for the first time today," she said, "but I promise you, she and Michelle are well-matched." There seemed a touch of irony in her tone, though without any hint of rancor. The kind of tone that said, to my ear, that they were well-matched in shamelessness. Bianca wouldn't be at all surprised that they were trying to solicit a third for their wedding night.
"To the happy couple!" she cried. "May they always rock!"
As we all toasted them, Michelle and Rose kissed again. Then Rose left the stage to join Ozzy and the band manager. Before she was even off the stage, Sydney's guitar riff opened one of the band's own songs.
Rachel was out of her seat in an instant. "C'mon," she said, her eyes flicking between Lauren and me, but staying mostly on me.
"I need to eat," I objected.
"I'm waiting for my sweetie," said Lauren. "You kids enjoy yourselves." I glared at her. We were the same age. She and I had dated in high school. She gave me an unrepentant grin. "I'll be sure there's food for you."
"No excuse, then, Mandy," Rachel yelled, holding out her hand. "And you still owe me."
I rolled my eyes, but stood, moving around the table to take her hand, and for the next fifteen minutes we leaped around to the familiar songs, while I tried not to look like I wanted to peel off Rachel's dress with my teeth. From the scalding looks she returned, I think I failed.
Glancing back, I saw that Mika had joined Lauren. There were plates on their table. "Break time?" I suggested.
Rachel frowned, but nodded. "Okay, but quick." She reached out a hand. I thought she was going to take mine, but she ran a finger down my upper arm, instantly turning my skin to gooseflesh.
Lauren hadn't only ensured that we each had food, she'd ordered us another beer. Now I definitely needed to eat to keep from getting completely drunk.
"Did you know about Ozzy?" Rachel asked Lauren.
"That's Sheryl," said Mika. "She's a friend of Jon's. She's a local comedian."
"Oh, that's cool," I said, between bites of my quesadilla. "She sounded just like Ozzy to me."
"Her accent was spot-on," Mika said. Mika always sounded to me like someone you'd hear on the BBC, or maybe Downton Abbey, so she was probably a good judge. "I usually hate hearing Americans trying to sound English, but she was good."
"I wasn't expecting the Elvis distraction," said Lauren.
"Yes, they had to tell me about that," Mika replied, "so that I would be looking in the right direction when Sheryl entered."
Rachel didn't give me time to finish my food or beer, insisting we could do that after the set.
"I'm glad to see the two of you have reconnected," offered Mika. "No more sneaking out of shows?"
"Shh!" I hissed. Mika had covered for me when I left her art exhibit. "Rachel doesn't know about that time."
"Babe," Rachel said, "you'd have attracted less attention if you'd danced out playing a trumpet. Of course I know about it."
Well, shit. Obviously she knew I was trying to avoid her, but I didn't realize she'd seen me actively running from her.
I gave her a rueful half-grin. "Busted. Again."
"Seems to be your night." Blue eyes glinted with amusement. "Now let's get back out there. I'm sure there will be time later for the rest of the food and beer.
"Let me finish this," I said, waving my half-eaten quesadilla.
She'd called me babe. I knew it was no more than a name for a friend, but it added to the uneasy thrill I was feeling being around her. Rachel wanted to hook up with me, again. The one night we'd spent together had been mind-blowing. That was over two months ago, now. Time during which I'd successfully avoided her. Time that I'd had to blow the memory up into something it may never have been. Time to recall how the experience had been head and shoulders above any of my other casual encounters.
Reliving the night would either be a huge disappointment, or it would be yet another yardstick against which to gauge my lackluster sex life.
Rachel didn't date. She was strictly casual. As was I, since my divorce, back in Colorado. My one-night stands met my physical needs. Rachel, though, had met a need that I thought I'd back-burnered. One I'd pushed aside since dating my ex, and the earliest days of my marriage. One that, bluntly, scared me.
Intimacy.
It had to be the molly, or E, or whatever the pill was that Rachel had taken. It simulated emotional closeness, and her need for me inspired my need for her. Which made me feel connected to her in a way I hadn't in years, for anyone.
Now Rachel apparently believed it wasn't the E, it was chemistry between us. If she was right, where would that leave us? With an itch that neither of us would be willing to scratch? I didn't want that. I finished my food.
"Are you going to join us?" I asked Lauren.
She smiled, shaking her head. "Still no. I don't want to ignore Mika. It's V-day!"
And though her fiancée tried to encourage her to dance and enjoy herself, she took her hand and held firm, leaving me alone with Rachel. Alone in a crowd of a few hundred, that is.
I leaned close to Rachel so that I didn't have to yell too loudly. "Looks like they're going to do just fine without me."
She frowned, not understanding, until she followed the direction of my gaze. One of the waitresses was standing beside Rose, her cheeks a deep red. Rose's chin was resting on her hand, an unmistakably sultry expression on her face, her intention clear even from this distance. Sheryl, blue glasses back in place, was watching the situation wearing Ozzy's grin.
"Oh, yeah, that's a look I recognize." She turned back to me with a smirk. "Question is, is she recruiting for her wedding night, or setting up a date for herself?"
I shrugged. I had no idea.
I was facing her, rather than the band, when a new song began, more quietly, with subdued drums and guitar.
"Oh, you won't have heard this one," said Rachel. She grasped my hips and turned me to face the band, her hands moving to my waist. "Undertown. You're in for a treat."
The song was a dark, rasping ballad, like nothing I'd heard from them before, and Rachel was right, it was worth paying attention too. Though it didn't distract me from noticing that Rachel's hands slipped forward, crossing over my belly. Her chin rested on my left shoulder as she drew me against her.
My dress had a low back. Not ass-crack low, just below the shoulderblades, but I felt dress fabric and soft skin against my back as I swayed with her, covering her hands with mine.
When the song ended, Rachel's hands stayed in place. I applauded, but made no attempt to pull away from her, even though the next song was back to the band's more usual hard rock.
Rachel's teeth touched my shoulder. Right where... oh, God, I didn't want to think about that now. Turning my face far enough that my lips almost touched her cheek, I yelled, "You are so not playing fair!"
"You're just scared because you know how good we're going to be together," Rachel said, her teeth brushing my earlobe.
That was truer than she knew.
Completely ignoring how close my face was to hers, she pressed her lips to my pulse point, toying with it before grazing her teeth over it. Her lips travelled higher, her breath tickling my ear as she said, "Are you going to invite me to come home with you?"
"If I say yes, will you quit what you're doing before I start dripping on the floor?"
Rachel burst out laughing, right into my ear. I squeezed my thighs together. "How could I possibly stop after that?"
Crossing my arms over my stomach, I wrapped my hands around hers. At least I could stop them roaming. Her breasts continued to shift against my back as we moved.
I still hadn't committed, but I knew I wasn't going to turn her down. I leaned my head back again. Rachel stopped nibbling my neck to be able to hear me. "Okay," I said. "Would you like to come to my fairy cottage, or would you prefer your place? I added a pair of cats since the last time you visited. Will it be a problem?"
Rachel laughed. "Babe, are you seriously asking me if I'm allergic to pussies?"
I wasn't even going to engage with that. I moved back to focus on the band for the last few minutes. When the show ended, Michelle announced that there would be no encores for obvious reasons. We traipsed back to our table, where more quesadillas and beer awaited us. Mika was packing away her camera gear.
"Can we take Rachel with us?" I asked Mika, who was our designated driver, since she'd been working. My standalone apartment, also known as my fairy cottage, was in the grounds of her house, and she'd brought her fiancée and me to the show. Party. Wedding. Whatever. "It's okay if there isn't room, I'll take an Uber with her."
Mika's eyebrow was raised high. That wasn't surprising, given that she knew how diligently I'd avoided Rachel before today. She nodded readily, though. "Of course. I can squeeze my bag into the trunk."
It was fortunate that the V-Day temperatures had been low. It meant that Rachel was wearing a long pea coat, safely hiding the dress that kept dragging my eyes to all the right places.
When we arrived, I asked Mika if she needed help with her equipment, and she just shooed me away. Lauren winked at me when she moved to the trunk to pick up Mika's bag, so I shrugged and walked around their house into the back yard, which had delicate lighting over the several flower beds and around the central table, and all around the apartment's French doors.
My "cottage" had acquired its name because it was a separate apartment unit at the far end of Mika's large, grassy back yard. After Lauren had moved in with Mika, she'd started referring to me as "the fairy at the bottom of the garden." Hence my apartment became my "fairy cottage."
"Oh, this is new," said Rachel. "Who set up the fairy lights? Or were they just not turned on last time?"
I stopped to give her a hard stare. She seemed confused for a moment, then laughed. "Fairy lights. Of course. Lead the way to your cottage, your, umm, fairyness?"
Stepping up to the French doors, I fitted my key. "If you'd asked who had added the colored lighting, I'd have said it was a joint effort, but my idea. Mika keeps the flower beds looking great, and I felt they deserved more attention. It will be good for next month's garden party." I opened the door and followed Rachel inside. "With my fairy cottage and the colored lighting, Lauren has taken to calling the yard the meadow. It's nice both for them and for me to be able to look out and see the decorations. The French doors are the cottage's best feature."
Rachel was unfastening her coat. Slipping it off, she said, "I thought I was the best feature." She folded her coat over her arm.
"Maybe, temporarily." I stepped out of my heels, then took her coat, hanging it with mine in the closet in the hallway that led from the large room. When I returned, Rachel's skin - and her dress - glowed gently in the soft colors of the lights outside. My heart was in my throat as I stepped up to her.
Without our shoes, Rachel was slightly taller than me. I took hold of her hands, keeping them at her side as I brushed my lips against hers. "This could be a terrible idea," I said.
"I don't know why you think that," Rachel replied in a husky voice. Her breath tickled my lips. "I don't think it will be."
Her lips were parted, and I met them with the barest of contact. She huffed out a gasp, then leaned into me. Her tongue softly touched my lips, far more delicately than I'd expected from her. When I met it with mine she tried to reach for me, but I held her wrists, then threaded my fingers into hers to prevent her from interfering.
I whispered against her lips. "Maybe you're right, if we promise to keep this entirely casual. You're okay with that?"
"You know me better than that, babe. I only do casual. Friends with benefits, if you like. Maybe enemies with benefits in our case."
I cackled. "Nah, never an enemy, but I like your thinking. Either way, you owe me for your machinations at the party, so you're going to stand there quietly while I take my turn."
"I am?"
"You are," I said. I unthreaded my fingers from hers, but moved her hands to her sides. Pinning her wrists against her, I slowly moved her back against the wall, into a gap between two of Mika's prints. Then I patted her hands. "Stay," I whispered, and kissed my way down her neck.
She followed my instruction, letting her hands dangle at her side while I moved mine to her waist. My lips travelled along her left shoulder until they met the dress strap. As I'd fantasized, I hooked my teeth beneath it and tugged it off. It sagged a little, but didn't fall. Nor did the right strap, when I moved it the same way.
Rachel may have remained still - surprising me a little, I had to admit - but her breathing was heavy, even though I hadn't yet exposed any additional skin. I kissed her pulse point, finding the beat rapid before lowering my face to her collar bones.
I kissed outward along her collar bone, then continued over her left arm until I reached the fallen strap. Again, I took it between my teeth and tugged, until the top peeled away, exposing her left breast. I grinned up at Rachel, whose eyes seemed to have lost their color entirely, only the reflections of the colored lights glinting in their depths.
Rachel's nipples were barely darker than the skin surrounding them, though the puckering made their presence clear. In the low, colored light, with no visible tan lines adding detail, she could have been made from a single sheet of gold. Warm gold, flexible under my tongue as I closed my mouth on her breast. The soft sounds emerging from her throat made my own heart race. She seemed at least as excited for my actions as she had been under the influence of her party drug.
Since my teeth were otherwise engaged, I pinched the dress at her hips and began to tug it down. It was tight, retaining its shape, but soon had slid down to expose her right breast, then her navel. Her thong, when I lowered the dress far enough, was dark jade and lacy. It was also as wet as my panties felt. I ran my finger over the front, causing Rachel to gasp sharply, as I turned my attention to her right breast.
Her nipples were fully erect, narrow areolae slightly puffy. I scraped my teeth over the right one, then lightly bit it, before dropping to my knees and kissing down her body. Her thong glistened in the fairy lights.
"You're the one who's going to be dripping on the floor," I said.
Rachel groaned as she attempted to reply. "Probably."
I grinned, though she wouldn't have seen it, since I was looking down. "I guess if that's your goal, I'm going to thwart you." I lowered my face further and lapped at her slick thong.
"Oh Jesus," Rachel groaned. "Yes! Thwart me, baby!" Her tone was huskier than ever, even as she let out a short laugh. "Thwart me hard!"
I couldn't help joining her laugh, but quickly returned to work. Tasting her again excited me as much as it had last year, though I didn't think that version of Rachel would have let me take my time like this.
The green dress still clung to her thighs. I ran my fingers over it, then around to her ass, circling, as my tongue stroked her thong. Curling my fingers inward, I drew my short nails down over her skin, to pinch the dress fabric. I eased it down silky smooth legs to her ankles, to the accompaniment of Rachel's soft murmurs of encouragement. She moved a hand to my head to support herself as she stepped over the crumpled pile of clothes, her glossy dress still gleaming in the fairy lights.
Her hand didn't move from my head, and in a moment the other joined it, her fingers delving into my curls and tightening on my scalp. I didn't complain about them leaving her side. Her hips started rolling against me, and I followed her movements with my mouth. Closing my lips over the jade satin of her thong I sucked, air bubbling through the fabric, making Rachel gasp softly.
With delicate strokes, I ran my fingers up her sides, making her shiver, until my hands reached and cupped both breasts, kneading them in time to the movement of her hips, rolling her nipples between thumb and forefinger. Rachel writhed, then leaned all the way back against the wall, her fingers tightening in my hair, her sex pressing against my mouth.
Pinching her nipples, I looked up at her. Her face was flushed, her fine blonde hair looking uneven for the first time. "Do you want to come like this?" I asked in a whisper.
"Just like this," she groaned. "You've made me so fucking horny, babe. I'm so close already."
I kissed her skin again, my teeth pressing my upper lip into her, and she started to pant. Tugging on her nipples, I moved my head rapidly up and down, my lip shifting position against her mons. Her fingers tightened painfully, threatening to pull my hair from its roots. I could push her over the edge so easily...
Instead, I backed away. Releasing her breasts, I moved her legs apart. Her fingers were no longer tugging my hair out, but still gripped it for support. I began to nibble her inner thigh.
Rachel's legs were long and lean. Whether it was from dancing, being on her feet all day, or working out, I didn't know, but they were firm and athletic. I'd always admired her smooth, tanned, muscular thighs. There was no excess softness for me to grip with my teeth. That didn't stop me from parting my lips and pressing my teeth to her. She shuddered as I drew my mouth closed, nipping her skin lightly.
"Oh, fuck," she groaned, as I worked my way higher.
Reaching the top of her thigh, I switched to using my tongue, digging inside the lace trim of her thong, sliding it up and down. The front of the garment gained a new layer of coating, and I licked it off, flicking my tongue side to side over the cloth where it rested over her clit. Exploring the back of her thong with my fingers, I traced my way over the narrow fabric, my nails brushing the chasm. She cried out as I began to circle her ass.
Without lube - and without a shower - I wasn't prepared to explore deeper, but my light touch on the sensitive skin made her pant noisily. I gripped her butt cheek with my right hand, squeezing as I ground my tongue against her sex.
Rachel grasped my hair again as she yelled. Then she began to quake. Her sex pulsed against my tongue. Her thighs tensed with the effort of staying upright. She moaned as she continued to crest.
"Fuck, Mandy," she managed, her voice unsteady, as she regained control. "God. The way you touch me..."
That gave me a warm thrill. It implied there was something about me that reached her, as if I wasn't just the random sex partner of the week. Still, this was casual.
"If I'm going to keep touching you the way I want to, we're getting a shower," I said.
"Mmm, that works for me." Rachel's breathing was still heavy. "I really need to see you naked, right now."
Taking her hands from my hair, I held them as I stood, then lifted them. "Hah! I was right," I said, then lifted her right hand up to her face. Two strands of peach-colored hair were wrapped around her middle finger.
"I should try for more next time?" Rachel asked.
Intertwining my fingers with hers, I leaned forward. "If you want to see my head naked, too, I guess," I said, then kissed her, allowing her to taste herself on my tongue, but breaking away before the kiss could become too intense. "Shower," I said, scooping up her dress before dragging her through my apartment.
Not wanting to get my black dress wet, I detoured through my bedroom, where I hung her dress in my closet, then let her take mine off. She didn't dawdle, though she took her time examining the result. I loved how her eyes took in my much less athletic body with so much desire.
"Do you want to drop your thong in with my laundry?" I asked. "I can loan you something when you leave."
"How about you offer me a ride home? Then I won't need underwear."
I shivered. "God you're evil."
"The other upside to that plan is that you can't avoid me. You'll have to get it back to me or keep my underwear like a pervert."
"Ugh. I hadn't thought of that."
We managed not to get too distracted in the shower, though we were breathing heavily and laughing when we made it to my bed. Something about Rachel's sense of humor meshed so well with mine that I felt giggly around her, maybe even giddy after fifteen minutes of naked teasing, with fingers, lips and tongues involved. The clear lust in her eyes made it even harder to avoid grinning like an idiot. I think I'd assumed that her desire had been entirely due to her drug of choice the last time we were together. Now - was this what she called chemistry? If so, how had she even recognized it in her altered state?
She demanded her turn to satisfy me, and took pleasure in pushing me onto the bed and rearranging my limbs without my input. I made her pause while I grabbed the lube from my nightstand, but I was still struggling to get a pillow behind my head when she pounced, lips landing on my breast.
My body was far less interesting than hers. My breasts were rounder and fuller, but pale to the point of being ghostly, with strong tan lines. My heavy nipples were, of course, hard, even before her lips touched them. None of this seemed to discourage Rachel in the slightest. And, God, did she know how to use her tongue and teeth.
Those teeth...
By the time she slid down my body, I was moaning. She raised my knees, grasped my waist from below, then buried her face in my pussy, growling.
"Oh, fuck!" I groaned. I was already aroused, but my pussy lips tingled with a new surge of wetness, even before her tongue touched me. Then she was tasting me, her tongue against my lips and brushing my clit. I wasn't going to survive her attentions for long.
But Rachel knew that, and toyed with me, backing away to draw her tongue down my inner thigh, kissing the back of my knees before working back to my sex, until I was a quivering mess beneath her.
"God, Rachel, let me come," I begged.
"Nuh-uh," she said, her lips against my clit, making my back arch. "Not allowed."
"Shit..."
Eventually she moved away, a devilish grin on her face as she squatted over one thigh. Threading her legs between mine, she lowered herself onto me, her hard, golden nipples pressing against my sensitive nubs. She grasped my hands, holding them above my head as she kissed me passionately, then moved her lips to my shoulders as she began to slide her body against mine, her teeth grazing my skin.
Tingling grew within me, and I wasn't going to be able to contain what was building. "It's going to happen with or without permission," I gasped.
Rachel laughed. "I know," she whispered into my ear. "Do you want me to do the thing?"
I didn't need it. I was mere seconds from exploding. But the night we'd spent together had never been far from my mind. "Yes!" I hissed. "Do the thing."
She chuckled again. Her lips met my shoulder, then pain flared from the contact as her teeth closed hard on me. I cried out, first in the intensity of the sensation, then continuing as I was thrust so hard into orgasm that I lost awareness for a time.
When my senses returned, I was still whimpering as pulses of rapture radiated out from my core. I kissed Rachel as I drifted back down to earth.
"I guess it's back to high-neck blouses for the next month," I murmured, eventually.
Rachel sniggered. "A month?"
"Well, at least a few days." I worked my hands free of hers. I caressed the sides of her breasts, then ran my fingers down her body. "You didn't draw blood, did you?"
"Do you see me sparkling?" she asked, with a smirk. Her body shifted against mine and I gasped at an aftershock.
Returning her amused expression, I lifted her thigh from my sex, moving my legs between hers. Then I shifted her body higher on mine, feeling the slight roughness of her landing strip against my belly.
I reached for the lube, then squirted some on my fingers. Rachel's eyebrows rose in interest. While she lay motionless atop me, I reached around her thighs and began to caress her taint. After a moment, her hips tilted, pressing her sex against me.
"You like that, do you?" I asked.
"You know I do, babe," she said. Her sultry tone thrilled me.
Leaving one finger slowly rubbing her taint, I circled her ass, my lubed finger slowly approaching her tight hole. Her eyes had darkened again, and her breathing was heavy. She pressed her lips to mine, her soft groan of passion echoing in my chest.
I lubed my finger again, spreading the gel in strokes on her sensitive skin. Her pussy pressed into my belly more firmly, in time to her breathing. She broke the kiss to bury her face in my neck.
Slowly, I worked my finger into her entrance. Rachel cried out into my ear, her body squirming against mine. She bit my earlobe, a constant stream of curses drifting from her throat as her writhing ground her breasts into mine.
Taking breaks to add lube, I slid my finger deeper, Rachel's back passage tight around me. The further I penetrated, the more strongly she moved, making a soft sound with each exhalation. Then she lifted herself to her elbows, looking down at me. Her eyes were on fire. Her lips parted in a perfect O, moans of lust grinding out from deep in her throat.
Shifting her higher on my body, I bent my head forward, to kiss the upper surface of her breast. She moved further forward, and I caught her stiff nipple on my tongue, then sucked it into my mouth as my fingers made one final trip to the lube dispenser.
Rachel's hips began to roll in earnest as my finger slipped in and out of her ass, fucking her slowly. For several minutes, she managed to avoid moving harder or faster, though her breathing turned into deep, sharp gasps.
During our previous time together, I'd touched her here, but not deeply. I'd known she wanted more, but I'd been reluctant. Now I could explore, curling my finger to find where to touch to drive her crazy with lust. And given the way each breath began to sound like a whimper, I was succeeding.
When I tugged on her nipple with my teeth, I broke her resolve to stay in control of her movements. She began bucking against me, her pussy slamming into my belly. I dug my finger into the wall of her rear passage, pressing hard against her taint with the fingers of my other hand.
Suddenly she collapsed onto me, calling out my name, as I felt her body shake. Her breast flattened against my face, and I had to release her nipple to breathe. I giggled as I turned my face aside, keeping up the movement of my fingers until she started to relax.
Carefully, I withdrew my fingers, reaching for a tissue to wipe off the lube.
"Why were you laughing?" Rachel had moved lower, her head resting on my shoulder.
"Because you tried to murder me." I laughed softly. "Your tits are lethal weapons"
Rachel's voice was rich honey. "First time I've heard that." She reached out to take my hands, threading her fingers through mine, then plied her lips against the base of my neck, as if she couldn't get enough.
A few minutes later, she had summoned enough energy to roll off me. I took the opportunity to clean up.
"You're not in a hurry to leave, are you?" I asked, when I rejoined her in my bed. When she shook her head, I continued, "How about I take you home after breakfast?"
"Mmm, good. I'm not done with you, yet."
I'd adopted my cats from the shelter. They were no more than three or four years old, siblings, both female, one black and one tuxedo. Though they weren't kittens, they were vivacious and complained loudly about being ignored the previous evening and locked out of my bedroom overnight. They made sure we were aware of their presence by barreling into our ankles as they unleashed their zoomy energy.
"What are their names?" Rachel asked. I'd loaned her a tee shirt so I could keep my attention on making breakfast and coffee instead of on her fascinating chest.
"Raven and Magpie." I glanced fondly at both cats. "They already had their names at the shelter, and they'd always been together, so I had to take both."
"Raven is the one without white marks?"
"For obvious reasons," I agreed.
Magpie staked out Rachel as we ate, staring at her, while Raven stayed in the doorway, her twitching tail signaling alertness. I wondered if Magpie could sense my scent on Rachel. I didn't mention the possibility. I didn't want a conversation that would venture out of the casual zone into intimacy.
"Is this one expecting me to feed her?" Rachel asked.
"No, she's just ensuring you've noticed her, I think. She tends to do that, while her sister gets into trouble. I don't know if she's distracting me from Raven's antics, or if she's trying to be sure she's making it clear she's not connected with her sister when disaster strikes. Either way, she's definitely the mastermind. I'm convinced that in some way, Raven is her willing accomplice."
"So this one's the boss?"
"No question," I agreed.
Rachel frowned, then turned her eyes from the cat to me.
"What's up?" I asked, maybe a little apprehensively.
"What do you wear to work?"
Well, that was random, and possibly it justified my apprehension. "Umm. Mostly business casual. Sometimes clients will visit unexpectedly. If there's a planned meeting, probably something more formal."
"Pencil skirt and jacket? Heels?"
"Sometimes?" I replied. "Why?"
"With your new hair color, I realize you remind me of my boss, Vanessa. She's a veep. Pencil skirt and heels every day. Stockings - or maybe hose. I'm not in position to find out for myself."
Grinning, I asked, "But you'd like to be?"
"She could bend me over her desk any time she likes. Unfortunately, she's straight. Straight straight, not mostly straight. Engaged to an airline pilot."
"Sucks to be you," I offered, as Raven ran into the room. Redirecting at a glare from Magpie, she bounced into my lap and attempted to climb onto the table.
True to Rachel's promise, she wore nothing under the green dress when I took her home in the morning. She did wear her heavy coat, but opened it in the car, leaving her tiny green skirt in clear view. I told her again that she was evil when I left her at her apartment.
So, yeah. It had been a good night. Better than I'd expected. I was glad that Rachel had talked me into it. But I didn't know where to go from here. Before I'd hooked up with her last year I'd been feeling despondent with my sex life. Physically, it had been satisfying, but wasn't very exciting. I didn't know if I was seeking women who were avoiding adventure or if there was something about me that telegraphed that I'm not the adventurous type. When Lauren's friend Kathryn tagged her "Rachel the Energizer Bunny," I'd instantly known that I needed to find someone like her.
I'd met Rachel through Lauren, who worked with her. She'd tried to seduce Lauren while high on her party drug, but though she struck out with her, she was usually more successful, and had a reputation of being an enthusiastically amorous lover. Kathryn's experience had been positive, in spite of the drug. So when the opportunity arose for me to take advantage of her state, I did. Though she now insisted she'd been willing, I'd felt guilty for that. My remorse hadn't hindered the most exciting and most intimate night I'd spent with a woman in years.
Now I knew that it wasn't the drug that had been responsible for that night. Rachel and I clicked in bed - and out of it, to be fair. She was smart and funny, and could be a good friend if my libido could take a break from her. She met my desires and pushed me to want more. And though I couldn't be certain how she felt about me, or how I compared to her other partners, she seemed to be very eager to be with me.
I had wanted her when we were together, and I still wanted her, now that I was alone in my place. But I was intensely relationship-averse. Tonight had validated Rachel's theory that we had real chemistry. Would it be okay if we became FWBs? It seemed both risky and a little pedestrian. Even if we did have amazing chemistry, was there any way to leverage that in a way that would make another encounter exciting?
Was that conversation at the breakfast table a hint? I was not the kind of woman who would bend an employee over my desk. Being tough enough to survive managing clients didn't translate into being a dominant personality.
At the same time, I couldn't see Rachel as submissive, but she clearly would want to yield to her boss, should the situation be different.
I pondered these facts throughout the day, but resolved nothing except the need to have my waterproof vibe accompany me to my evening shower.