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    Calling In Sick

       

    Upon taking a sip the left side of her top lip pulled back as she winced, “That’s hot.” 

    She laughed nervously.  Remembering in that instant how the exact words passed through her lips last night although in a very different context.  The striking woman with whom she now shared a table had shed her jacket – walking from the bedside lamp that had just been turned on.  Just like she was.  Totallly. Turned. On.  

    “Don’t rush.” Bette said rather seductively.  “We have time.”

    Tina smiled.  Knowing Bette also recalled how those hoarsely uttered words were almost incoherent last night as they undressed.  How she purposely meant to reference the evening they shared in her reply. 

    When time stood still while they moved frantically.  Both lacking patience to finally have skin against skin.  Ragged breathing.  Caresses on heated flesh. 

    How she breathed into the warmth of the brunette’s mouth while the desperation to touch built to a swelling need.  How Bette drank all of her.  Their mouths wet and eagerly hot.  Greedy even.  To tempt.  To lick, savor and entice.

    “Umm…” the development executive cleared her throat, “What were you planning on doing today?”

    “I’d hoped,” Bette tantalized with a mood reminiscent of the yesterday’s explosion, “…you.”  Both women’s eyes shone with enjoyment, at how tempting that would be.  Knowing they would still be in bed if they hadn’t forced themselves to leave the room.

    “Alas I have bills to pay.  As do you.”  The grinning brunette said as she settled further into the cushioned chair. 

    Sighing dramatically, “So I suppose I have to show up at work.” 

    She planned to be at her desk in about an hour or so after a quick stop on the way to throw on a clean suit.  Fully acknowledging that for the most part, the day would be one of pretense as she rifled through the portfolios left for her review and ‘listened’ during meetings.  It didn’t matter that one of them was with an artist she’d been trying to nail down for a month now.  Stealing her paycheck, no doubt her concentration would be elsewhere. 

    Across town.

    In room 327.

    Her body wanting to arch toward the woman sitting before her who prudently took another sip of the slowly cooling morning beverage.  Healthy pink lips curved and poised to drink.  Those lips.  The same moist ones that knew just when to grasp at her making her forget about all else.

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