Sunday, June 3, 2007
Sighing, Miranda rolled over, burrowing into her soft duvet. She did not want to get up. Her daughters were staying with their father this weekend, and Miranda had scheduled herself to be free today, knowing that after the end of the Gala and consequently the end of New York Fashion Week, she would need a day to recuperate. A vision of Andrea at the gala, surrounded by admiring glances, caused Miranda to sigh. How had this girl gotten into her heart?
Not that she was a girl. At all. No, Andrea had proven herself to be a very desirable woman. The kisses they had shared last night had reinforced that fact quite sufficiently. It had taken all of Miranda's considerable willpower to not take Andrea to her bed. In fact, she had intended to make love to the younger woman, but then she had realized that one night would not be enough. So, she had made her feelings clear. Walking away after making her offer had been a calculated risk—one that was quite necessary. Although Miranda might change in some ways to please Andrea, the fundamental aspects of her personality would not change. She was a possessive woman, and she would not share. She would not hide. And she would not let Andrea go if they did enter into a relationship.
Realizing she had developed such strong feelings for Andrea, Miranda had sat down with her girls several days ago to discuss it with them. Admittedly, they hadn't taken it well. Well, she couldn't blame them. They were dealing with the upheaval of another divorce, and the press's relentless coverage of it had proved taxing to them. She had really made a mess of her life, and it had colored their interactions. The fact was, though, that she wanted to explore these feelings, and whether her children approved or not, she would. Provided Andrea agreed.
Perhaps the morning light had helped Andrea to see clearly all the reasons why returning to Miranda would be foolish. Perhaps the victorious feeling of winning the bet had faded, and along with it the romantic nature of last night's declarations. Perhaps Andrea had decided that she could do better. And she could. Miranda knew that. She knew her weaknesses, knew her obsessions, knew her imperfections. She was sure Andrea did, too.
Rising from her bed, Miranda combed her hands through her silver locks before donning her favorite robe, a gun-metal gray material that wrapped around her body deliciously. She quickly made the bed before moving to her closet to choose her clothes for the day. Something comfortable and casual. She pulled out an electric blue Michael Kors long-sleeve, scoop-neck, chain peasant tunic. The décolletage was low enough to reveal her collar bones and to hint at cleavage. She paired it with a pair of La Idol white skinny jeans. The rear pockets had a jewel design on them that went well with the tunic's chain accessory.
After readying herself for the day, Miranda made her way downstairs to find something to eat. She scooped up the papers on her hallway floor, delivered to her home on the weekends, and opened up to Page Six. Her steps faltered when she saw the picture of Andrea and she exchanging air kisses. The caption proclaimed that she was handing the throne over to her successor. Miranda chuckled. Not quite. Andrea might one day be ready for such a position, but she doubted that was the road she wished to travel. Nor was Miranda ready to abdicate. If anything, this bet had renewed her appetite for fashion, seeing it through new eyes as she had introduced its various forms to Andrea.
Humming a tuneless song, Miranda cooked an omelet, adding tomatoes, mushrooms, and peppers. She perused the rest of the rags as she finished, thinking that it was time to make some coffee. As she placed her plate in the dishwasher, she heard the doorbell. Her heart leapt with hope. Andrea? Trying to temper her reaction in case she was not at the door, Miranda made her way to the front of the house.
A butterfly fluttered near the entrance as Miranda's eyes connected with bright brown ones, and its unusual presence emphasized for Miranda just how excited she felt. A steaming no-foam skimmed latte was thrust into her hand as Andrea swept into the house. Miranda closed the door and followed as Andrea made her way to the den.
"You know," Miranda drawled, "I do have a coffee maker. And if I recall correctly, you were quite emphatic that your job did not include getting me coffee."
"Well," Andrea said with a small smile, "I am sure you have the best coffee maker available..."
"I do," Miranda agreed before taking a long sip from her cup. It tasted heavenly.
"And it's true I was not hired to fetch coffee for you..." Andrea continued, her smile becoming larger.
"So you made abundantly clear a few weeks ago," Miranda said, placing her cup on a table and stepping toward Andrea. Her breath hitched as Andrea also stepped forward.
"But that doesn't matter since I am no longer your employee," she said softly.
Miranda stepped forward once again, her eyes traveling slowly over Andrea's beautiful form.
"And I brought it because I wanted to, not because you were requesting it," Andrea said in a breathless voice.
"You mean demanding it," Miranda said wryly as she wrapped her arms around Andrea. She gazed into Andrea's clear eyes, hardly daring to believe she was holding this wonderful woman. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," she answered simply.
Without further prompting, Miranda pulled Andrea close and kissed her passionately. Andrea's hands slid up her back, caressing each vertebrae under her fingers before weaving them through Miranda's hair. Moaning her approval, Miranda parted pliant lips and sucked on the strong tongue that met hers.
"Miranda," Andrea moaned.
The raw wantonness conveyed in that one word drove her wild. She rubbed their tongues together, swallowing Andrea's guttural groans while her hands cupped Andrea's backside, squeezing them in time with her tongue thrusts. When they pulled back to breathe, Miranda rasped, "I want you. Give yourself to me, Andrea."
"Only if you give yourself to me," Andrea said in a low voice.
Looking into her eyes, Miranda saw just how serious she was. Nodding, she pulled Andrea up the stairs to the master bedroom and kissed her sweetly. They lay on the bed, and Miranda held her tightly for a moment before kissing Andrea's throat. She could feel Andrea's pulse racing under her lips. "Didn't I tell you last night that I'd grown accustomed to your face?" Miranda murmured.
"Um, yes. Ohhh, you feel so good," Andrea moaned.
"Mmm," Miranda hummed. She lifted her head to gaze into darkened eyes. "I've grown accustomed to your smiles." She ran a finger lightly over parted lips before moving it to brush over Andrea's forehead. "Your frowns." She flipped them over so that Andrea was on top and thrust up slowly, feeling the heavenly movement of Andrea's body as she responded to the pace Miranda set. "Your ups. Your downs. Are second nature to me now. Like breathing out and breathing in."
Miranda slipped her hands underneath Andrea's shirt and familiarized herself with flexing stomach muscles and deliciously full breasts. She pushed the shirt over Andrea's head, pausing to feast her eyes on what was revealed. Noting how Andrea stopped gyrating against her, Miranda looked into apprehensive eyes and remembered her cruel words, said in frustration. Fat. "I am so sorry I called you fat." Miranda ran a hand through silky locks, pushing them back so she could see Andrea's expression. "You are by no means overweight. I cannot wait to explore every glorious inch of you. Please forgive me." She let her feelings of guilt, sorrow, and regret shine through her eyes.
Watching Andrea closely, she recognized through the softening in golden-flecked eyes that she was forgiven. Smiling, Miranda lifted her head up to cover a perky breast with her mouth. She began a sinuous rhythm with her body as her hands cupped Andrea's backside and pulled her onto her thigh, whimpering when Andrea's thigh found its way between Miranda's legs. Their pace picked up as Miranda moved her lips to the other breast, sucking it enthusiastically.
"Mir-Miranda! I, oh my God. I need, um, I want..." Andrea huffed. "Ohhh, that's feels so goooood!" she moaned as Miranda chewed on a hardened nipple.
The heat between them was intense. Miranda unzipped Andrea's jeans and shoved it with her panties down as far as she could reach, using her feet to push them off completely. Her hands pulled the addictive body closer, and she hissed as her hand glided easily into slippery folds. "God!" Miranda muttered around a breast. She arched up as hands explored her skin under her tunic, loving how Andrea's hands felt on her. She had never felt so aroused in her life.
"I need to see you," Andrea panted, bracing herself on one arm as she pulled at Miranda's blouse.
"Sit up, Darling," Miranda directed. Without pause, she removed her blouse and bra, reassured by Andrea's widening eyes and hitching breath. Andrea's hands were quick to help Miranda remove her pants and lingerie before sinking down on her fully. Miranda moaned loudly and pulled Andrea as close as she could, reveling in Andrea's full length against her.
Luscious lips kissed her chest, sucking on her collar bone as a tongue licked the indentation. "You are so sexy, Miranda," Andrea whispered. "I never dreamed you could return my feelings. I need you so much. I just, I can't face a life without you in it."
"You don't have to. Now that you are here, I won't let you go," Miranda declared, returning her hand between Andrea's legs. She was soaked. Miranda felt bolts of arousal shooting through her, and she began moving against the precious body above her. "Oh, Andrea!" Miranda groaned as fingers stroked through her sopping folds. "Yes! Oh, yes! Please."
Sure fingers entered her as she thrust two fingers into Andrea. Their moans mingled as they moved together, picking up the pace while kissing again and again. Andrea threw back her head, crying out as she climaxed. Her fingers stilled for a moment as her body convulsed, but soon she regained control and began plunging her fingers into Miranda with renewed vigor. "Come for me, Miranda. Trust me. Let go. Let me in," Andrea crooned.
Closing her eyes against the intensity of emotion overwhelming her, Miranda yelled out Andrea's name as her orgasm tore her apart. She wanted to laugh, she felt so good. She wanted to cry, she felt so vulnerable. But above all, she wanted to keep Andrea with her.
She held Andrea firmly, still feeling faint flutters against her fingers. She slowly began to move them in and out, groaning when Andrea followed suit. Pushing more forcefully, Miranda added a finger and brushed her thumb against an engorged clit. "You feel incredible," she declared, kissing wherever her lips could reach. She licked at a swollen bud, drawing it into her mouth hungrily, growling as the sweet taste of Andrea's skin filled her senses.
Andrea's body moved against hers provocatively, slick with their combined perspiration. Miranda looked into dark eyes and smiled widely as she brushed more forcefully at the bundle of nerves pulsing against her thumb. This felt so right.
"Miranda...Miranda...Miranda," Andrea chanted, the affection in her voice wrapping around Miranda's heart and spurring her second orgasm. She watched as Andrea followed her over the glorious precipice, rejoicing in her ability to please the younger woman. They elongated their movements, drawing out their pleasure as fingers slowed down. Andrea slumped on top of Miranda, who held her as she tucked her head into an attractive neck. Leisurely, she grazed her teeth against it, making a mental note to explore this part of the body closely once she got her breath back.
A soft voice broke the silence. "Thank you."
"If anyone should be grateful, it is I. Every day you've been in my life has been a blessing," Miranda said, framing Andrea's beautiful face so she could look into her expressive eyes.
"Well, I'm sure not every day..." Andrea said sardonically.
"No, no. Even when you said things to me that I needed to hear but was too stubborn to listen to, I was grateful. And I will be grateful for every day you give me, Andrea." She smiled tenderly as tears leaked from Andrea's eyes trailing down her cheeks.
"Well, then," Andrea's voice said brokenly. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I'm glad, really glad that I was walking in Central Park on a rainy day."
"Mmm, as am I. And I will be quite content to hear your voice and see your face every day. I fear I became rather spoiled over the last six weeks." She rolled them over so that she was propped on her elbows and knees above Andrea. "We are going to have to figure out a way to get me through each day without you shadowing me everywhere." She smiled wickedly. "This is a good start." She felt Andrea's laugh reverberate against her lips as she sucked lightly on her collar bone.
"I'm glad. I just..."
Miranda looked down to see Andrea biting her lip nervously.
"I just hope you won't become bored with me."
"Andrea, you are not a doll. Nor are you a toy or a plaything to be dressed up and then tossed aside. I learned that very quickly. I assure you, I will not become bored."
"Really?" Andrea asked in a hopeful voice.
"Really. Although this conversation is becoming rather boring. I think we can find a better use of our time," Miranda drawled, her hand gliding over curves she craved to feel against her once more. She leaned down, cutting off a joyous laugh as warm hands ran down her back.
Rain hit the window panes, the droplets creating a rhythm that they followed as their passion flared once more. Miranda knew that, just like on that day six weeks ago when it had rained, Andrea's inner light would break through Nature's tears, warming Miranda with her love.