by Tessa Vidal
Once her body softened against the bed, I removed the toy and lifted my mouth from her breast. She blinked at me, gaze dreamy. “Now I know why every girl you’ve had sex with won’t leave you alone. You’re incredible.”
I laughed. “You’re just figuring this out?”
She shook her head, a goofy grin on her face. “No, silly. I figured it out last night, but holy shit. I don’t know if I can ever have sex with any other woman after this.”
My ego swelled about a hundred times and I set the toy aside. “Are you saying I’ve ruined you for all other women?”
“Pretty much.” Sara batted her eyelashes and wriggled a bit beneath me. “Now let me do the same for you.”
Chapter Eleven
Sara
I didn’t know if Dylan would let me, but she was naked and on top of me in seconds. At first, I thought it would just be me holding her, my hands on her hips while I ate her out, but she stretched out on top of me and her hair tickled my thighs.
“I’m so sensitive!” I protested when her breath blew across my pussy.
“Which is what makes it even better.” Dylan’s voice lilted with mischievous intent and my hips jerked at the first touch of her tongue. How was I going to concentrate on her?
Her body on top of mine was so warm, almost as hot as the fire that spread through me. I curled my hands against her hips and pulled her down against my mouth. As soon as I thrust my tongue into her, it grounded me. Even though the way Dylan ate me out was incredible, something about her smell, her taste, and the weight of her kept me focused on her pleasure instead of mine.
All I wanted to do was out-orgasm her, make her lose control. She’d taken my surrender without much of a fight. Now I wanted more from her. My tongue swept along the crease between her thigh and crotch. I repeated the action on the other side and slowly worked my way toward her center.
Even when she plundered my depths, her tongue thrusting into me mercilessly, I stayed on task. My hands massaged her hips, alternately squeezing and then running up and down her smooth skin, while I swirled my tongue around her clit.
Something about that seemed to hit just the right spot, because I heard Dylan suck in a breath. I’d made her come last night, of course, but we’d both been ready to let loose after our little withholding dance.
I repeated the same motion with my tongue and moved my hands to her taut ass, sliding both thumbs up along her crease. This time, she let out a gasp. Perfect. I was on the right track, so I kept up the same caressing and licking.
Within moments, Dylan was bouncing on top of my face, riding my tongue while she gripped my thighs. “Not fair,” I heard her mutter before she came. Her release was characterized by a gush of wet heat that I lapped up hungrily.
She blew out a breath and lay fully atop me again, her face back between my thighs. The way she ate me – hard and rough, mouth working my already-sensitive body – I knew I was about to share the ecstasy with her.
I loved how she used both hands to part my folds and nuzzle into me with both nose and tongue. I kept my hands on her ass and mouth fastened on her, sucking her clit as I came. Her shudders began anew atop me and, together, we quivered and shook and moaned with our mutual orgasms.
Our bodies went soft, yet we continued, neither of us willing to stop tasting and pleasuring the other. Somehow, we ended up rolling over, me on top of her. It was a first for me and cooler air hit my back. There was something vulnerable about being on top, especially with my weight. But Dylan spread her legs wide for me and I heard her sucking at my flesh, her cool tongue still penetrating my pussy.
I lost my ability to keep up with her. My hands pushed into the bed as I lifted myself up on all fours and thrust my most intimate self back into her face. Another orgasm wracked my body, pleasure eradicating every rational thought. When I’d told her she’d ruined me for sex with all other women, I’d meant it. This was beyond my wildest dreams.
Soon – and I don’t remember how we got there – we were sharing wordless comfort, lying in each other’s arms, sated. My stomach was full of butterflies and I realized I had nothing to compare this too. Even my near-miss with marriage had never filled me with this sense of simultaneously belonging to and having someone else.
Without thinking, I whispered, “You’re everything, Dylan.”
She nodded, her dark, straight hair gliding over my lighter curls. “And I know we should have had this conversation before, but you should know that I’m clean.”
Crap. That was the kind of question I should have asked and never did. How it escaped my notice, I wasn’t sure, so I propped myself up on my elbow and looked down at her. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Is it TMI to let you know I got tested right after we met?” Dylan laced her fingers through mine and her unblinking gaze locked onto my face. “I knew I didn’t want to carry anything from my past into whatever this might become, so I made sure to get a clean bill of health right away.”
Somehow, I managed not to grimace. It wasn’t the reminder of her promiscuous lifestyle that made me hesitate, but of my prior relationship. I hadn’t exactly checked off all the post-break-up boxes in that regard, so I made a mental note to schedule a doctor’s visit as soon as Monday rolled around.
“I always got tested anyway, because you never know. If I was in a relationship, I guess it wouldn’t be a necessity.”
My throat went dry. “No,” I agreed. “Not if they were faithful.”
Dylan’s hand went to my face, her thumb stroking my cheek. “Something you had problems with.”
The reminder made my chest tighten. “Yeah. She... I don’t know how long she might have been cheating on me before she finally called it quits, but I’m sure Paige told you everything.”
“Everything I hadn’t already picked up on from you, yes.” She continued caressing my face and I could see that the wheels were turning, that she wanted to say more. But she finally pulled me close and said, “I wouldn’t do that to you, Sara. I hope you know that.”
As we lay tangled in Dylan’s bed that Sunday afternoon, I hoped that was a promise she could keep.
“I DON’T KNOW HOW I feel about this. Won’t everyone wonder what I’m doing there? I only know Paige and Eve. Won’t it be weird?” The words sounded wild and desperate as I said them out loud. We weren’t talking about the anniversary party. Not yet, anyway. It’d been a week since we first slept together, and the big magazine party was still a few weeks away. Despite that, I didn’t even want to think about it.
Instead, Dylan wanted me to hang out with her friends that night. The Models. It was someone’s birthday and, as far as I was concerned, the most awkward way to introduce me to them as her girlfriend. Which was her intention, according to the way she’d worded the last-minute invite. It was as if she wanted to make sure I knew how serious she was about us having a relationship, instead of just a sex thing.
Dylan looked unperturbed, which didn’t help. I hoped she understood my concerns. This would be like entering a broken shark cage with some of the bars missing, and hoping the sharks decided to stay outside. And I wasn’t a great swimmer.
“Of course it won’t be. You’re my girlfriend, now. You don’t have anything to be afraid of and Paige will back us both up on that. No one will be rude and you might even make some new friends.”
With The Models? I knew them, of course, from work. But being friends was likely not in the cards.
“Please get dressed. It won’t be as bad as you think. Besides, I want you there with me.”
I rolled my eyes, but threw myself into her arms. I couldn’t say no to that. She wanted me at her side, not just in a secluded meadow or quiet restaurant, but among her friends. Maybe Paige was right – Dylan was falling for me.
Since these were women with access to the world’s most famous fashion and beauty closet, I didn’t want to take any chances with my ensemble. In the short amount of time between this weekend’s rounds of sex, I’d run home and picked up
a few outfits. It was already a Sunday night and I made sure I had a work outfit, too, just in case Monday rolled around way too soon.
Even though it was a casual birthday dinner, I put on the one pair of designer jeans I owned, an asymmetrical floral top that hid all my body sins, and a pair of strappy sandals that hadn’t even hit the runway yet. I was sure The Models would notice and give me points for that.
Of course, Dylan looked divine in her usual outfit – a black button-down shirt open far enough for a view of her cleavage, black jeans, and high heeled boots that made her even taller. It was still a new experience to feel this small next to someone else, and I relished every moment of it.
She opened the door for me when we arrived at the restaurant, obliterating every last worry I’d brought along for the ride. The Models had already commandeered a large, round table and were leaning across it, nudging each other, pouting, and laughing. It looked like a normal girls’ night out, except now I was included in it. The three empty chairs remaining weren’t side by side, but Dylan walked up to the table and said, “Do me a favor and scoot over, Ashley.”
Ashley was a model I didn’t know as well as the others. She still looked fresh off the farm with all-American good looks. Everyone knew the type: long, straight blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and full red lips. “No need. You can sit right next to me,” she purred and patted the chair.
“I can, but I’d like my girlfriend next to me, too.” Dylan extended her hand back toward me. I accepted and stepped forward.
The way Ashley wrinkled her nose, I knew she was in disbelief. “Girlfriend? Since when do you have a girlfriend?”
“Since before you were born.” Paige’s voice cut through the chatter from behind us. “Get your damn facts straight and make room for the lady.”
Ashley glared at us, but moved over and turned to the model on her right. Just to tick her off, I took the seat she vacated, ensuring Dylan couldn’t sit next to her. She glanced back to her left, seemed to realize who was there, and turned away again.
Dylan squeezed my hand and Paige sat across from us, next to Eve. She elbowed Eve and whispered something in her ear. After a moment, Eve said far too loudly, “It’s time for some introductions! Everyone, this is Sara. I’m sure you know which magazine she works for at Hearst. She’s pretty much the beauty guru to follow.”
A few of the girls at the table nodded their recognition. Ashley didn’t even bother looking my way, apparently still miffed at being pushed aside to make room for me.
I could either let them intimidate me or show no fear. Since I knew where the first would lead, I opted for the second choice. “So, whose birthday is it?” I asked as brightly as I could.
“Ashley’s. She’s turning twelve, again.” Eve snickered.
“I’m turning twenty-two.” Ashley sounded more put out with each passing moment. It looked like I’d ruined her birthday. Maybe she hoped Dylan would offer herself as a present. As one of the few women whose name didn’t end in Y and whose dress size wasn’t a single digit, I definitely didn’t fit in here. But the reassuring weight of Dylan’s arm across my shoulders told me I belonged next to her, and that was all that mattered.
The others didn’t spare me much of a glance as they continued to chatter about upcoming shows and shoots, who was a bitch in the industry, and who was an even bigger bitch.
“So, Sara,” one of the models I didn’t know asked. I blinked as all eyes turned to me, even Ashley’s. “What exactly do you do?”
“She’s a beauty editor,” Eve chirped. “If you want a makeup expert, she’s the one. How can you not know her?”
“Besides, with chipmunk cheeks like that, you need to know how to contour.” Ashley’s attempt at a jab didn’t hurt. It was laughable. If this was what passed for an insult in 2019, I’d make it through this just fine.
“And with a personality like that, you need to know how to invest your modeling earnings now, because the looks are going to fade, but you’re still going to be a bitch.” I didn’t like to zing people, but I couldn’t help it.
Another glance around the suddenly-hushed table of women told me everyone had caught it. The first person to react was Paige, followed by Eve, and then the others. They cackled like hens and Paige smacked the table with her hand. “Happy fucking Birthday, Ashley! One year older, but certainly not wiser.”
Dylan rubbed her hand along my arm and my heart raced as I turned to look at her. Only when I saw her smile did my entire body relax. Whatever I’d just done, I’d won. The atmosphere changed as the models leaned in to ask me about new products, tips and tricks, and to recommend the best dishes at the restaurant.
No one flirted with Dylan or touched her, not even in a friendly way. Everyone seemed to respect the declaration that she now had a girlfriend.
It wasn’t until dinner was served and some of the models were pushing their food around on their plates that Ashley came in for another attempt. “You should know that Dylan doesn’t date. What do you think makes you so special? What do you have that I don’t?”
I wanted to answer, “Thighs,” but I gave myself more time to consider the question. “I think you should ask her that question, since she’s right here.”
Ashley rolled her eyes and scoffed. Maybe she didn’t want to hear it straight from the source, but Dylan leaned forward to look past me.
“Don’t be jealous, Ash. It’s not a good look for you. And no other women were right for me. Sarah isn’t like other women. She’s the one I want and, honestly, I’m the one who got lucky because she’s giving me a chance – not the other way around. She’s different and sweet and genuine. If you don’t like my answer, too bad.”
Ashley pressed her lips together, but this time when she looked at me, it was with grudging respect. My heart resumed its frantic gallop for a moment, before settling into a normal pace as she said, “I guess that makes sense.”
It wasn’t the perfect answer. I wasn’t a part of their little group, but I wasn’t so much of an outsider anymore.
Chapter Twelve
Dylan
“I heard a rather disturbing rumor.” Kaitlyn Cooper leaned around my doorframe and batted her fake eyelashes as she peered into my office. She was an unwelcome start to my Monday, but professionalism prevailed. Sort of.
“The only thing disturbing is the alliteration of your name.” I didn’t have time for our beauty editor’s crap or her failed attempts to flirt with me. What was she even doing in my office, anyway? I’d made it clear years ago that our night was one and done. “Don’t you have lipsticks to review for National Lipstick Day?”
“Oh, gazillions.” She walked in and plopped dramatically in one of the cushy chairs across from my desk. It scooted across the floor alarmingly. Good thing it wasn’t wood or metal, because I imagined it would crush her tiny frame if she toppled over. Kaitlyn was my first of two co-worker mistakes. She’d started only a few years after me, new, enthusiastic, and coming on strong in all ways.
Even now, Kaitlyn tossed her long, mahogany brown hair, and batted her eyelashes yet again. I winced at the visible glue line. Kaitlyn ought to know better, but Mondays were rough. As long as the Head Bitch in Charge didn’t see the imperfection, no one would have to deal with her wrath. My boss didn’t like obvious fashion and beauty faux pas.
“But, Dylan, what’s this I hear about you sleeping with the enemy?” Kaitlyn leaned forward, the white silk blouse gaping open enough to give me an unobstructed view of her cleavage. The beauty editor certainly had plenty to show off, the only thing that’d attracted me to her back then. “I mean, the enemy, sweetie. She has the exact same job as me, but at a different magazine. Furthermore, I heard you’ve actually been on dates with her, even brought her to Ashley’s birthday party. What are you thinking? She’s not just some model. She’s working for the same readers as we are.”
I shrugged and let my gaze fall back to the article I was reading, already bored with Kaitlyn’s nagging. “I don’t know what I’m
thinking. Why do you have to emphasize every other word when you speak?” I knew the mockery was way too direct and obvious, but I didn’t have our editor in chief’s gift for cutting people to the quick with words. For the longest time, my body had been my way of putting people in their place. Until Sara.
Kaitlyn laughed, a low, seductive sound. She radiated the kind of misplaced confidence a Chihuahua had when confronted by a much larger dog – yappy and ineffectual in the face of potential danger. Whatever she hoped to achieve, I was neither impressed nor scared. “Sweetie,” she repeated, a harder edge to her voice, “you can’t expect this to go on this long without questions. First of all, there’s the women out there who are going to wonder why you chose her over them.”
“Been there, done that, slayed the dragon. Those women need to get over it and they know it, and I know they’re hung up about it. It’s their problem. Don’t insult me by stating the obvious.”
“Fine. The bigger problem, anyway, are the work implications. How will this affect you in the office? Are you going to be able to concentrate on what you need to do? Furthermore, is this going to get in the way of your professional life?” Kaitlyn leaned forward, seemingly intent on letting me see everything she had on display. Not of interest to me. She pitched her voice lower and asked, “What if she’s just using you to get the scoop on us?”
It was another moment of truth for my... Oh crap, what was the word for it? My relationship. I was in a relationship with Sara and it was blowing everyone’s minds, including my own at times. The thought that one small decision on my part could have such an immense ripple effect was equal parts scary and empowering, so I did the only thing I could to hide the cold sluicing through my veins.