Helen chuckled. “Actually, I’m suggesting we get pleasantly tipsy, have incredible sex, then go for dinner because we’ll be starving, get wonderfully drunk while we’re at it, then come back here, and have sex again.”
“God, I thought you’d never ask,” said Ginevra, pulling Helen into her room and bringing the other woman into a long, greedy kiss as she did so. Clumsily, Helen stood the champagne on the dresser next to the door, kicking the door shut as she let Ginevra drag her to the bed.
Ginevra hit the bed and sat, smiling up at Helen. Reaching between them, Helen yanked open Ginevra’s housecoat, revealing her still wet breasts. Helen groaned. “I’ve wanted to do this all week,” she said and sank to her knees, cupping Ginevra’s breasts in her hands and pushing together so that she could nuzzle between them, covering Ginevra’s dark skin with warm, open-mouthed kisses. Ginevra sighed, letting her head fall back as she tangled her fingers in Helen’s hair and the doctor swirled her tongue around Ginevra’s eager nipples.
“Come here,” said Ginevra huskily after a moment, tugging Helen up. The other woman rose, pulling her shirt over her head while Ginevra undid her fly. Stepping out of her jeans and panties, Helen let Ginevra guide her onto her lap, gasping a little as the other woman grabbed her ass, using it to bring their bodies flush so that she could take Helen’s breasts into her mouth. Roughly, Ginevra licked them with the flat of her tongue, flicking Helen’s dark nipples until they hardened and she could suck on them, her mouth hot and wet and needy. Helen moaned, grinding her hips into Ginevra, burying her hands deep in her tight curls while she arched her back, willing Ginevra to take more of her into her mouth.
While her mouth worked on Helen’s tits, Ginevra spread the cheeks her ass wide so that she could run her fingers along her slick pussy and the tender nerves of her anus. Stroking Helen’s delicate folds, Ginevra was careful not to do anything but tease. She smiled to feel Helen desperately trying to find purchase on Ginevra’s elusive fingers.
“Oh God,” Helen groaned as Ginevra teased her clit. “Would you just fuck me already?”
“Patience is a virtue,” Ginevra admonished, dipping one finger into Helen’s pussy. Inside, Helen was dripping wet, and her desperate walls tightened on Ginevra’s fingertip immediately, only to have her pull it back out.
“I’ve been patient all week,” Helen responded and kissed Ginevra passionately, taking her lower lip in her teeth. Before Ginevra could react, Helen had slid off her lap and between her legs, spreading them so that she could get a good view of Ginerva’s glistening pussy. “Mmm,” Helen moaned appreciatively, licking her lips. She didn’t waste any time.
Dipping her head forward, she licked Ginevra from bottom to top, while the other woman shuddered at the sudden pleasure. With one hand, Helen spread Ginevra wide open, bringing her tongue slowly back down, easing it between her labia, sucking and licking every inch of Ginevra’s slick, swollen lips. Sitting like this Ginevra could see nearly everything and the sight of Helen eating her out so hungrily turned her on more than she thought possible.
Helen glanced up, catching Ginevra’s eye. She smiled wickedly and swirled her tongue around two fingers before sliding them entirely into the other woman. Ginevra moaned, her hands tightening in Helen’s hair. Pumping deep with her fingers, Helen got to her feet, climbing up to straddle Ginevra again, her fingers slowly gaining speed. Back in Ginevra’s lap, Helen locked eyes with her lover as she began to rub herself against the same hand that she was using to fuck Ginevra, her hips rocking in time to her thrusts.
Never breaking eye contact, Ginevra reached down again, kneading Helen’s ass and thighs. Once she had the other woman’s ass tight in her hands, she began to work in time with Helen’s thrusts, bringing the other woman down harder against her own hand. Helen moaned at the increased pressure, her breath coming in gasps.
Ginevra felt herself begin to climax and turned, flipping Helen down onto the bed.
“Wha—”
“Not yet,” Ginevra said, ignoring her own body’s protests and straddling Helen backward so that she could lean down and bury her face in the other woman’s pussy. Helen’s response was instantaneous and loud, and Ginevra smacked her stomach lightly to keep her from screaming. In response, Helen grabbed Ginevra’s hips and dragged her ass backward until she could get her mouth on pussy as well.
Helen loved Ginevra’s generous ass and took a minute knead her dark flesh between her fingers before leaning forward and licking her from clit to anus. Ginevra groaned around Helen, her mouth full of the other woman’s clit. They turned sideways on the bed, giving each other better access as they began to work in rhythm.
Ginevra explored every inch of Helen’s pussy, smearing the other woman’s salty juices everywhere as she nipped the soft skin of her inner thigh, ran her tongue in the delicate creases where her thighs met her body and licked her sensitive taint before working her way back to her swollen clit. Taking Helen’s clit gently between her lips, Ginevra began to flick it with the tip of her tongue as she slid two fingers into Helen’s waiting pussy and began stroking her g-spot. Her pace grew faster and more frantic as Helen’s fingers went to work on her and Ginevra felt the walls of her own pussy begin to tighten.
Helen had started with Ginevra’s ass, nuzzling between her soft cheeks to run her wet tongue in circles around the tightly wound nerves of her anus while she fondled her thighs and cheeks and listened to Ginevra moan into her own pussy in response. Ginevra’s tongue was making her feel delirious, and Helen did her best to concentrate, wanting to make Ginevra come before she did.
Tilting her head, Helen licked Ginevra’s glistening entrance, dipping her little finger inside, teasing Ginevra’s g-spot before drawing it back out and inserting her pointer finger, then her middle finger - removing each of them before Ginevra’s walls could clamp down on them. Ginevra moaned, sucking harder on Helen’s clit, wanting release. Slowly, Helen slid her slick pinky into Ginevra’s anus, letting the other woman adjust. When she was certain Ginevra wasn’t in pain, she thrust two other fingers into her pussy and began to pump, slowly at first and then faster as Ginevra began to moan and buck her hips against Helen’s hand. As she pumped, Helen brought her mouth down to Ginevra’s clit, licking frantically as both women began to climax, their slick, sweating bodies jack-knifing against each other as they moaned into each other’s skin, their orgasms drowning them in wave after wave of pleasure.
Finally, with a moan that bordered on a scream, Ginevra’s orgasm came to a final, shuddering end, her pussy tightening one last time around Helen’s fingers. Feeling Ginevra’s juices on her lips, the doctor finally let herself go, moaning and gasping as the last of her orgasm rocked through her body.
On weak arms, Ginevra sat up, looking down at where Helen lay between her wet thighs. “We forgot about the champagne,” she said hoarsely.
Helen giggled, kissing Ginevra’s inner thigh. “And you might need another shower before we go to dinner.”
Ginevra eyed the sticky mess they’d made of the bed and nodded. “New plan,” she said, stroking Helen’s thigh. “Shower, champagne, dinner, sex.”
“I like it,” said Helen, sitting up as well.
With a soft smile, Ginevra leaned forward, taking Helen’s face in her hands and kissing her gently. “How was the hospital?” she asked.
Helen beamed. “It was perfect,” she said. “My dad…he said I should come by for dinner tomorrow. Apparently, it’s movie night at the hospital.”
“I’m so glad,” said Ginevra, pushing Helen’s thick hair off her face.
“It’s all because of you,” said Helen, brushing her thumb across Ginevra’s cheek. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Well,” said Ginevra, looking down at their naked bodies, “I can think of a few ways.”
Helen threw her head back and laughed. “First the shower!” she said, and Ginevra smiled. Together, they got up and headed for the bathroom.
The End
I wan
ted to thank you for taking the time in reading Risky Surprise. We hoped you enjoyed reading this happily ever after story.
It brought me great joy to write this as I love writing stories that entertain readers and draws them into another world with characters you love and hate. They say great books are those that evoke emotion out of you and I hope that’s what it has done for you.
Thank you once again, and I’ll see you in the next one.
Capturing the Night
A First Time, Lesbian, Office Romance
By Elle Crosby
© Copyright 2016-2017 by Elle Crosby
and Second Chances Press
All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher. Names and persons in this eBook are entirely fictional. They bear no resemblance to anyone living or dead. To protect the privacy of certain individuals the names and identifying details have been changed. This is a work of fiction. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Chapter One
Ingrid contemplated herself in the mirror, waiting for her brain to wake up. She splashed cold water on her face, grimacing as she patted herself dry. Try as she might, she still hadn’t gotten used to getting up early to go to the office. The only thing that had ever successfully gotten her out of bed early was the adrenalin rush provided by imminent death. She rolled her neck, working the kinks out of it and dreading the day ahead. She knew that this job at The Chronicle was the smart choice, but she still resented it. Or, more accurately, she resented her body for making it necessary. Being a war correspondent was not easy to work and, after three decades of abuse, her 52 years had caught up to her. Even she had to admit that she was too old to be running around war-zones or hiding out in the jungle with guerrilla fighters, constantly at the ready. But she couldn’t help herself. She missed it.
She turned on the shower, waiting for the water to heat up. As she waited, she prodded the lean muscles in her arms. Ingrid might not be as fit as she used to be, but she had certainly not let herself go. Only her face and a few old scars showed the toll of all those years of violence and mayhem. Her face had always been angular, its sharp cheekbones and strong jaw the product of Scandinavian heritage. But these days her angles had become just a little sharper, her sky-blue eyes just a little sunken, and her ash-blonde hair just a little frailer. Her tanned skin, once smooth and supple, was crisscrossed with a web of fine wrinkles, fanning out from the corners of her eyes and mouth. She was a beautiful woman, but her once lush beauty had been tempered by years of malnutrition, lack of sleep, and unspeakable horror.
Getting into the shower, Ingrid titled her head back, letting hot water soak through her hair. That was one thing she certainly didn’t have any resentment about hot showers. But even though this new, sedentary life was full of luxuries, it couldn’t make up for the sense of purpose she’d had when out in the field. Not only that, but the women that Ingrid met these days couldn’t hold a candle to the women she’d known on the job.
The women that Ingrid had met in the field had all shared the same all-consuming hunger. It was hunger that the content women in this city couldn’t even begin to imagine. European journalists, Latin American guerrillas, African rebels – they had all been the same in their thirst for change and a better world. This desire, this passion, had permeated all aspects of their lives, from their work to their love affairs. These were Ingrid’s people. When her world had collided with theirs - whether on leave in a cramped Parisian flat or on assignment in the steamy depths of the Amazon – their love had been fierce, brief, and unforgettable.
Lathering the soap between her hands, Ingrid let her memory roam, following it back to one encounter in particular. As she thought, she ran the soap along the curves her breasts, washing their delicate underside. Ingrid had been in Bosnia during the Yugoslav war. She’d met a smuggler named Asija whom she’d hired as a fixer. Asija had stolen a dead Serbian girl’s ID and went by Anja to avoid the dangers of her Turkish name. She’d only told Ingrid her real name after they’d been sleeping together for a week. She’d had her dark red mouth around one of Ingrid’s nipple when she’d looked up and said, “You know, if you’re going to moan my name, you should at least cry the right one.”
Ingrid’s nipples hardened at the memory, and she toyed with them. She rolled and tugged and drew circles around her areolas, alternating between the soap and her fingertips. Asija had had impossibly beautiful hair. It would lie in dark tangles along Ingrid’s stomach and between her breasts, brushing her collar bone, as Asija kissed and nipped Ingrid’s most sensitive skin.
Hot water still streaming down her back, Ingrid let go of one nipple, running her hand down her stomach to stroke the delicate skin of her inner thigh. Slowly, her slippery, soapy fingers made their way inward, running along the edges of her labia quicker. With her thumb, she began stroking her clit, slow at first then faster and faster. Ingrid moaned, remembering how she’d wrapped her hands in Asija’s hair as the other woman had licked and sucked the swollen folds of her pussy.
Suddenly desperate for release, Ingrid dropped the soap and braced herself against the tiled wall, grabbing the shower head off its hook. She spread her labia with her fingers and aimed the water at her clit. The sudden pressure took her by storm, and she groaned, imagining Asija taking her clit in her warm, red mouth, her tongue flicking it faster and faster as her fingers expertly stroked Ingrid’s g-spot. Ingrid’s hips jerked as her abs spasmed and, too quickly, her orgasm was over.
Blowing the air out of her cheeks, Ingrid’s head fell back against the wall, and the shower head hung limply in her hand, its water running across her feet. Now she wanted to go to work even less.
Stepping inside The Chronicle’s office building, Ingrid took off her aviators, hanging them in the crook of her button-down shirt. By way of greeting, she raised her travel mug of strong, black coffee in the direction of the young man at the front desk. On the phone, he waved a hand in reply as she pushed through the swinging doors into the slightly chaotic inner sanctum of the newspaper.
“Ingrid! There you are. Finally. Where have you been?” Chuck was head of Ingrid’s second least favorite department: Human Resources. Her least favorite was PR, but she had to admit that its manager, Miranda, was all right.
“I’m five minutes late, Chuck. Don’t get your panties in a knot,” Ingrid replied, breezing past the beleaguered man in the direction of her glass-walled office. Strangling the air in her wake, Chuck had no choice but to follow behind, gesturing at the cute redhead next to him to do the same. As he passed, he glared at the stark black print on the office door, which declared Ingrid “Editor-in-Chief.”
“Fifteen minutes,” he retorted when he had finally caught up. “And you should be setting an example for your employees. If you’re late, they’ll be late.”
Ingrid raised her eyebrows as she drew her messenger bag over her head and dumped it on her desk next to her coffee. “No, they won’t,” she said. “They wouldn’t dare.”
“The fact that your employees are terrified of you isn’t something to boast about,” Chuck replied.
Flopping into her chair, Ingrid rolled her eyes. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Chuck. They’re not terrified of me. They respect me.”
Chuck reached around the redhead, who still hadn’t said anything, and opened the office door. “Raise your hands if you’re terrified of Ingrid,” he called to the office at large.
The other reporters looked at each other then, grinning, all raised their hands.
“Only reason McLeod hasn’t tried hitt
ing on her yet,” called a petite brunette working at the photocopier.
The others laughed. “See,” said Ingrid, “if they were actually terrified they wouldn’t be laughing.”
“We laugh, but it’s true,” said a freckly blond man by the water cooler.
Chuck gestured eloquently to the blond man and closed the door again.
“Yeah, all right, whatever, Chuck. Who’s this? I assume she’s why you’re already on my case at eight in the morning.” Ingrid gestured at the silent redhead with her chin. If Ingrid had to guess, she’d say a 28-year-old beautician, going by her trim body, perfectly done hair and makeup, and over-sized bronze jewelry.
“Quarter past eight in the morning,” Chuck shot back. “And this unfortunate woman is Adele Sokoloski, the new intern. You do remember that you agreed to have an intern from the journalism program shadow you for three weeks, right?”
Ingrid pulled a face. “Eh, remind me again what I agreed to? And you don’t look young enough to be an undergrad. No offense to anything,” she said to the other woman.
“Well, you did warn me she was ‘blunt,'” the redhead said to Chuck. “And I’m not an undergrad. It’s a master’s program. I’m 32, in case you’re wondering.”
“Right,” said Ingrid. “Master’s program. I knew that. Isn’t 32 a bit old for a master’s?”
Chuck groaned. “Stop being a dick to the intern, Ingrid!”
Adele shrugged. “It’s okay. It is old. I trained as a yoga and meditation instructor. I’ve been doing that for almost ten years.”
“But what?” Ingrid asked, sipping her coffee. “You got tired of being zen?”
Chuck groaned again. “I just wanted a change,” said Adele, unfazed.
“See?” said Chuck. “You’re both women in transition. I’m sure you’ll have loads to talk about. It’ll be great. Won't’ it, Ingrid?” he raised an eyebrow pointedly at the recalcitrant editor.
One Little Letter: A Bad Boy, Second Chance Romance (Office Escapades Book 1) Page 36