Flying First Page 3

  Our eye contact broke when she turned to step under the spray. Only a few seconds of gazing at her but I knew I would never forget that kind of protection.

  I sat up, lifted myself from the groaning mattress and made my way to the bathroom. I left my clothes on top of hers and drew back the curtain slowly. Our eyes met, gaze holding, and then hers slipped down over every inch of me—everywhere.

  She stepped aside to make room for me.

  “Couldn’t wait?”

  “Not another second.” I pressed my lips to hers and backed her up until she was pressed against the tile wall. Her body slick with soap as I ran my hands down her back, stopping just above her ass.

  She wove her hands into my hair and I pulled back slightly and pressed my forehead to hers. Out of her heels, she was only the slightest bit taller than me. “God, I’ve been wanting to do that since day one. Is this okay?”

  She pulled me close again and pressed her mouth hard against mine. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the first time I heard you tell me to fuck off under your breath.”

  I laughed. “You like that, huh?”

  She responded by gripping my hair more firmly and pulling my head back to expose my neck. She bit down hard, just above my collar bone before soothing the mark with her tongue.

  I pressed my mouth to hers and stifled her moan before teasing my tongue along her lower lip. I had been dreaming about this moment for a month and I tried to hold myself back from devouring her, but it was useless.

  Her lips parted for me and my pulse set frantic rhythm where her breasts pressed against mine, the water streaming between us easing any friction.

  Monroe let her hands trail over my shoulders and downward. When she reached my hips she pulled me against her so firmly that I almost lost my balance. I slipped a thigh between her legs, anchoring us together.

  “You’re so wet,” I whispered against her neck.

  “We’re in the shower.”

  “Oh, is that all it is?” I pulled back a bit eliciting a groan from Monroe. She pulled me tightly against her again.

  “Don’t even think about leaving.”

  “You’re the boss.” I bit down gently on her neck and ran my hands up her stomach until I was cupping her breasts. I let my fingers glide over her nipples and smiled at her soft moan as they grew taut. I wanted my mouth on them. I wanted my mouth everywhere.

  I lowered my lips to her ear and bit it gently. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I’m tired of making decisions. I want you to take me.”

  I pressed against Monroe, electricity humming between us everywhere our bodies touched. I was more nervous than I expected, filled with same kind of buzzing anxiety I get at interviews. And I really wanted this job.

  Monroe ran her fingers along my cheek and down to my mouth before dipping one in. When she withdrew I crashed our mouths together, hungry for her. She tasted like whiskey, a little smoky with a lingering sweetness. My head buzzed with desire, with friction, as I ran my tongue along hers, deepening the kiss.

  I kissed down her body and paused to pull a nipple into my mouth and bite it gently before I continued running my lips over her ribs and stomach. Her hand wove into my hair and stopped me before my mouth reached its destination. “I want you to use your hands this time.”

  I licked a line back up to her breasts. The way she said this time left me heady with hope for many future times. I wasn’t sure I would ever get enough of this woman. When she lifted her hips again I let my fingers trail even lower to trace along her opening.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  I slipped one finger inside of her as I brought my thumb up to caress her clit.

  “Are you sure all this wetness is the shower?” I kissed her. My own wetness marked her thigh.

  She jerked her hips against me. “Oh, my god.”

  I increased my rhythm and inserted another finger, relishing the tightness of her around me. I kissed along her neck before moving my mouth over hers to smother her moans. I didn’t want that kind innkeeper to come knocking about the noise. Though really I was very pleased with both the volume and length of the exclamations coming from Monroe. I felt a swell of pride in my chest each time she called out.

  “Oh, fuck, Chloe. I want more. I want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

  I inserted another finger and gave her a moment to adjust before I moved my hips against her. I pressed into my hand in time with each thrust and curled my fingers slightly each time I withdrew.

  “I do mean it,” I whispered and kissed her neck. Beneath me, her body went rigid as she cried out. When she began to slip down the wall I wrapped my free arm around her and held her up. Monroe’s hands moved from over her head to latch onto my shoulders, I felt my own climax building as she neared hers. Her nails dug into my skin, only releasing when her body slackened and I savored the sharp sting on my skin.

  I lowered my mouth to her neck and Monroe threw back her head and groaned so loudly it reverberated off the tile. “That?” she said. “Was fucking perfect.”

  Chapter Four

  I eased the hotel room door open, carefully balancing a tray with two mugs of coffee and bowls of what looked a lot like yogurt before our host had mixed it with sugar and milk. I couldn’t keep a smile off my face at the familiarity of the scene. How many times had I brought Monroe breakfast?

  “Good Morning, Chloe,” Monroe said, her voice bright and sharp as a blade. She was seated at the small desk in the room, her eyes studied something on her phone.

  “Good morning.” I took in Monroe’s intense focus. She had dressed again in her scrubs and her hair was pulled back tightly from her face in a high bun. Weight settled in my stomach like it was the bottom of an hourglass with all the sand settled.

  Monroe raised her head at last, she looked at me quickly before her gaze landed somewhere behind me.

  “What’s that?”

  I looked at the tray in my hands.

  “Breakfast.” I wanted to elaborate. To tell her how badly I’d slept and how I’d gone to find coffee because I wanted her to have a good morning. But I held back. Alarms rang in my head.

  “Mm,” Monroe said, her eyes were already back on her phone.

  “And I figured out how to connect our phones to the Internet so we could work, but it looks like you’re all set there.”

  “I had International data set up before leaving Boston.”

  I nodded but she wasn’t looking at me. There couldn’t be very many reasons she wasn’t looking at me unless she regretted yesterday.

  I set the tray down on the small coffee table.

  Monroe looked at the coffee and scrunched her nose but I cut her off before she could ruin that too. I had accomplished a lot already this morning. I took a deep breath and decided to forge ahead.

  “I’m ready to work, so if there are things you want me to take care of, I can. I figured I could start calling the team in India to explain our situation.”

  “Chloe, stop.” Monroe bit her lip and a crease formed between her brows.

  “What?”

  “I’ll call the team in India.”

  “Okay. I can catch up on email and see about getting us flights back.” I took a few steps toward the couch to sit down. If Monroe was in work mode, I could be too.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Monroe brought her hands to her eyes and pressed against them before letting out a sigh.

  And I knew I’d made a mistake. This had all been a terrible, stupid, short-sighted mistake, and I knew it without knowing, just from the slope of her neck. You don’t serve someone a thousand venti oat milk vanilla lattes with an extra shot and light foam without learning to read disappointment on their face when something is off.

  She drew in a deep breath. “Look, you can’t be my assistant anymore. It won’t work.”

  The room spun and I sat down on the edge of the couch.

  I took in a shaky breath to steady myself. “So, I slept
with you, and now I’m losing my job? That is not what we fucking agreed to here, Monroe.”

  “Chloe, listen to me.” She folded her hands on her desk like I was a contract to be negotiated. I wasn't about to be managed.

  “I might hate this job, Monroe, but I need it. Did you stop to consider what might be best for me when you were making this decision?” I stood up, I wanted to be my full height for this, to tower above her and topple this mounting imbalance.

  Monroe narrowed her eyes. “Of course I did--”

  “No, you didn’t. You trapped me into this trip with you to get me to not quit, and once you got what you wanted, you fired me anyway. I can’t be here anymore.” I grabbed my things and walked back to the door, leaving my coffee behind.

  “Do not walk away from me, Chloe.” She half rose from her seat but didn’t move toward me. “Where are you going to go?”

  “As far away from you as possible.”

  I slammed the door behind me on the way out.

  Chapter Five

  The airport was eerily quiet when I arrived, and for a moment I worried it was still shut down. I spotted a woman at one of the ticket counters and forty-five minutes later I had a ticket on a return flight for that night. All I had to do was max out two credit cards to get it. It was amazing how easy it was to move through security without luggage. Like life was just one big moving walkway, sweeping me along. I had nothing suspicious to flag because aside from my wallet, passport, and phone, I didn’t have a single thing with me.

  All I had to do was kill the next eight hours until my flight.

  And keep my mind off of Monroe. Simple. I just wouldn’t think about the way her smile crinkled the corners of her green eyes. Or that dimple on her right cheek when she laughed that I’d never seen before yesterday. Or how powerful and whole I felt holding her up in the shower as she came. My stomach clenched tight, caught in a vise.

  I’d…I’d browse the bookstore. Or find a bar and get really, really drunk. Even if it was ten a.m. Most drinks were basically juice anyway. All I had to do was get my body on that flight later. That was my one responsibility. Then I could go back to Boston and restart my life.

  How could I have been so stupid? I was never impulsive when it came to sex. I knew I was playing a dangerous game with Monroe. I just figured if things went badly she’d make my life at the office hell, not take away the office completely.

  Whatever job I got next, and it needed to be fast, I knew I was never going to be anyone’s assistant again.

  I lounged at my gate. I’d tried my best to outwalk thoughts of Monroe, and now my body felt exhausted and fragile, like brittle ice beneath a crunching boot. Even the horror of buying new underwear at an airport kiosk reminded me of her and how unselfconsciously she’d stripped yesterday.

  Only one more hour and I would leave this whole mess behind me. How long would it take to forget about her?

  I hoped it was the vodka making me so maudlin. I stood and stretched. If I snuck in one more drink before takeoff I’d be able to sleep on my flight. Lord knows the seat I booked in coach wouldn’t be much help.

  “You didn’t let me finish.” Monroe’s voice, clear as a bell behind me, nearly stopped my heart.

  She looked incredible. She’d somehow managed to get new clothes, and the yoga pants and tight grey sweater she wore cradled every curve in soft fabric. I looked down at my scrubs. I’d never felt less attractive.

  I closed my eyes briefly to steel myself against her. “Then finish, Monroe. Because I’m already done.”

  She nodded and drew in an audible breath. If I hadn’t known how cold she was, I might’ve actually believed she was nervous. “The thing is, I was wrong this morning. But I think I was wrong for the right reasons.”

  Was she doubling down? And Jesus, where did she get lipstick? I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her ruby red lips. I hadn’t even bothered to buy chapstick.

  “So were you right or were you wrong, Monroe?” Rage simmered in my chest, but I couldn’t bring it to a boil. My impulse to walk away from Monroe clashed with the undeniable desire that pulled me toward her.

  “Yesterday was so good. Like, beyond good. Being with you was everything I imagined it would be.” The ‘but’ hovered between us, sucking all the oxygen out of the terminal. I felt pressure on my chest, a lead x-ray vest keeping my breaths thready.

  “But...” She reached out to lace her fingers in mine. Her hand in mine was so soft but I flinched anyway. “I really want to keep doing that. With you.”

  Relief flooded me, warming my veins like a shot of whiskey. My heart a pendulum swinging back and forth. High. Low.

  “I’m feeling a little whiplash here, Monroe. What is it that you want?” I heard the tremble in my chest reverberate in my words.

  “I want this to work.” Her eyes were wide and glassy with tears. “But that’s never going to happen if we’re working together and sneaking around. I don’t want to sneak around with you. So...” She drew in a deep breath. “That’s why you can’t be my assistant anymore. It can’t be both. And I’m not willing to give up what we have.”

  “You can’t just make this decision, Monroe. What about what I want? What I need? You didn’t consider me at all.” I took a step back and extracted my hand from hers. I wanted to be with Monroe, but I couldn’t lose this job. And her not getting that simple fact was an icy dagger in my chest.

  Monroe reached for my hand to pull me back “Of course I did, I just got ahead of myself. Because I--I was excited. I was so excited about you. About us. And I should have led with that and not the job thing. That much is clear to me now.” Monroe’s eyes were wide, the green of her irises shimmering pools as she held her bottom lip between her teeth.

  “The job thing is pretty fucking important to me, too.”

  “I know that. But...I want to be with you. And I know that’s selfish of me.”

  I felt a riot of emotions cross my face, incredulousness battling the wild hope stampeding through me.

  “Look, you hated being an assistant.” Monroe came to me, and when she took my hand this time I didn't let go. “You’re way too smart. And you’re also kind of bad at it.”

  “I’m confused. Are you still apologizing?”

  “I should have told you that I had a plan. My friend Jen has a startup and I think you’d be perfect for it. You’d have a lot of flexibility to define your role.”

  “So, you’re just going to...to pay me off with a job?” I wanted this job. It was what I had wanted all along. What I deserved. Not to be the assistant to a powerful woman, but to reclaim my place as one.

  “No. I’m going to pay you off with an interview. And if you’re still willing, a really nice date to celebrate that interview and the fact that you’re no longer getting coffee for some jerk every morning. I mean...unless you stay over and you want to, that is.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Relief flooded through me. Relief, and elation, like I’d just finished a marathon. The Boston Marathon, even.

  “Just to be clear--you can say yes to the interview and no to the date. But I really hope you’ll say yes to both.” Monroe’s eyes narrowed as she drew her eyebrows together—it was the face she made on particularly difficult conference calls. Her boardroom face.

  I looked at Monroe and nodded. Tears blurred my vision and threatened to spill even as I blinked them back.

  “Yes, god yes.” I took a step toward her and pulled her into me.

  Monroe’s face softened into a sweet smile, that perfect dimple appeared on her cheek. She threaded her arms around my neck and tangled her fingers in my hair. She pressed her lips to mine, and all the pieces of my world fell into place.

  “But Monroe?”

  “Yeah?” She murmured the word against my neck, a whisper of excitement chasing behind.

  “If you sleep over…”

  She laughed. “When I sleep over, you mean?”

  “When you sleep over, I’m not buying you those ridiculous
lattes anymore. It’s black coffee or nothing.”

  Her shoulders shook against my chest, a giggle escaping into the air. Monroe pulled back to look me in the eye. “Deal.”

  About The Author

  Lucy Bexley

  Lucy Bexley grew up in Michigan walking into walls because her nose was always buried in a book. She came to romance recently and fell in love with stories featuring queer women getting their happily ever afters. She lives in Boston with her partner, dog, two cats and eleven bookcases. She’s a fan of seltzer, women’s soccer, libraries, and wool sweaters. Her debut novelette is Flying First. She’s hard at work on her next lesbian romance project.

  You can find out more about her work by visiting www.lucybexley.com