Y nadie más te puede tocar, ¿Vale?

Pepa stares at Silvia, transfixed, watching her dark eyes flash dangerously, jealousy and anger warring with guilt. It was a revelation; if she had known that all it would take for her pelirroja to admit her feelings for her, she would've been kissed by some woman in front of her ages ago. Dios, pero her pelirroja had to make everything so damn difficult. Silvia's jaw twitches, and suddenly Pepa is backed against the lab counter, Silvia's hands gripping at her jacket, tugging it off as her dark eyes watch steadily. Pepa wastes no time, reaching for Silvia's head, twining a hand through her pelirroja's red hair and tugging. Silvia's eyes grow darker, and a slow smile spreads across her face. She reaches up to kiss her, standing on her toes while her tiny hands tug at Pepa's t-shirt.

Sacatelo she commands softly, insistently tugging at the soft material, —Vamos Pepa, sácatelo.

Pepa wastes no time pulling her shirt over her head, pulling Silvia close, feeling the fabric of her soft cotton shirt against her bare skin. Silvia smiles and reaches up to kiss her, one hand reaching behind Pepa to unhook her bra. —Oye pelirroja, Pepa pants, — ¿No crees que vamos muy rápido? Porque hace un día—no, una hora—estabas muy cierta que no te gusto, y ahora…pues ahora me andas besuqueando por todos lados, y no se que esto se significa. She groans when Silvia cups her free breasts though, arching against Silvia, moaning.—Pelirroja…

Pepa sees only the dark flash of Silvia's eyes before she leans in, licking one wet line down the length of Pepa's throat, ending with her jaw, sucking, licking up the length of her jaw, taking in Pepa's ear in her mouth, a murmured laugh vibrating through her throat. Pepa laughs, shuddering against Silvia, arching her neck. They should talk about this—Silvia has the taste of tequila in her mouth, and Pepa isn't completely sober, but all she can think about is the warm flush of Silvia molded to her body, cotton against bare skin, and the fire in her belly, spreading everywhere. Silvia leads back to Pepa's mouth, kissing her with open lips, her tongue licking inside Pepa's mouth insistently, fingers fumbling with Pepa's belt. Pepa moans, caught between wanting to stop this (ella va a levantarse mañana, y me va odiar) and wanting to keep Silvia close to her always. Pepa tugs Silvia's lab coat off, fingers deftly undoing her shirt buttons when the heavy white fabric lays at Silvia's feet. Silvia's pale face is flushed, and her dark eyes are caught behind purple-dusted eyelids, and her mouth is so very hot against Pepa; Pepa can't bring herself to stop, not when the one woman she's wanted since before she was 18 is right in her arms, tiny and eager and sucking at the pulse point at her neck.

The cantina seems so far away now—Silvia grabbing Pepa and dragging her from that one woman's lips, telling her—Tenemos que recoger esos resultados que dejamos en el laboratorio, fire in her dark eyes as they stumbled into the precinct, Silvia keeping up that ridiculous rouse, cheeks flushed with anger and tequila. It ends with this: Silvia pinning Pepa to the counter, her lips a brand on her neck, down her chest, smiling dark-eyed up at her, as Pepa moans and grips Silvia's red red hair in one hand.

Pepa can't stop herself, she can't even try.

She kisses back, ripping Silvia's shirt off, and flips them, pinning her pelirroja to the counter, lifting her up and setting her on it. Silvia's lips part and she stares down at Pepa, who smiles up at her, dropping to her knees and inching away Silvia's skirt. When Pepa presses feather-light kisses to the inside of Silvia's thigh, her hips jut forward, one small hand gripping Pepa's dark hair tight. There is no light but the fluorescent lights above Silvia, and they turn her unnaturally pale, almost glowing in the darkness, and her dark eyes smolder watching Pepa.

No quiero tocar nadie más que ti pelirroja, nadie más. Pepa whispers into Silvia's skin and Silvia tilts her head back, breathing in the cool air, and begins to believe her.