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    Remember Who You Are 9

    Dinner was excellent, Bette had already known her way around a grill and her experience with Tina in the kitchen had made her confident and creative. Tina was impressed, she was proud.

    “You, my Dear Wife are an excellent cook…” she smiled warmly.

    “I had a very patient and very understanding teacher, who never gets mad even when I ruin her favorite spatula…” Bette teased.

    “You didn’t.”

    “Oh, but I did…it had its last day as a spatula…there is no doubt about that…”



    “How in the world…”

    “The stove, Honey… it gets hot when you turn a burner on, you see… and I went out to grill…and…”

    “You didn’t.”

    “I really did. Would it help if I told you I already ordered you a new one and it will arrive tomorrow?”

    “It might.”

    “Ok. Tee… I already ordered you a new one and it will arrive tomorrow…”

    “Smart Ass.”

    “Tell me about Elena…what did the video tell you?” Bette asked, her plate pushed aside and her second glass of wine full. Her full attention was on Tina, and Tina basked in her devotion.
    “Well…” Tina replied, stacking her plate on Bette’s and taking her hand.

    “The evidence is clear, my Love. Jodie did the heavy lifting, the large-scale metalwork…” she moved closer, pulling Bette’s chair towards her as she spoke. “But… Elena… Elena. She did the webbing, the delicate work that required focus and dedication. And creativity.”

    She kissed the back of Bette’s hand, running her mouth and lips over the skin then turned it over to slowly kiss her palm, never breaking contact with her mouth. She worked her way to kiss the inside of her wrist, inhaling the scent, her eyes flicking up to meet Bette’s.

    It was incredibly sexy, and Bette found herself mesmerized by where Tina would go next, her arousal growing. She wanted to take her to the bedroom, now. “Jesus, Tee” she breathed softly. She shifted in her seat, trying to decide if now was the right time to sit on Tina’s lap, take her shirt off and…

    “I have qualms.” Tina said unexpectedly, looking up from Bette’s wrist and bringing her hand to press it to her cheek. She leaned into the touch of her wife, closing her eyes.


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