Can Ria really trust her heart and believe in love at first sight?
Victoria Bayliss is happy in her job as a junior copywriter. The only thing she lacks is a lover. When Sheridan arrives on the scene and messes up her life big time, Ria knows it’s time to run away.
Sheridan Brooks appears to have everything. A fabulous new job, and a luxury Manhattan apartment, not to mention a sexy body, good looks and a closet full of designer clothes to show them off, but her clothes hide a naughty secret.
A brief liaison in the executive restroom has far-reaching consequences for both women.
Success! Lukewarm coffee splashed out of my still full cup, catching both of us exactly as I’d hoped.
“What the hell!”
My carefully rehearsed plan of campaign invoked the full force of Sheridan’s wrath, and turned her hazel eyes to dark tortoiseshell in a split second. I couldn’t have wished for a better result, now what came next all depended on her reaction.
“Oh dear, I am so sorry, Ms. Brooks.” I dabbed ineffectually with an already soaked tissue at the dark stain spreading across the front of her shirt. The wet fabric clung like a second skin highlighting the swell of her breasts and rapidly hardening nipples. I licked my lips anticipating how they might feel in my mouth.
Maybe my tongue would do a better job of cleaning her up than this messy tissue.
“Stop! You’re making it worse.” She waved my hand away and pulled the edges of her jacket together to hide the stain.
Was that it? I’d counted on Sheridan offering more than this feeble reaction. My heart sank. Had the sacrifice of my shirt been for nothing?
While I was still bemoaning my plight, Sheridan flicked a brief glance around the room then drew herself up to her full height and fixed me with a steely glare. “Come!” Even before her hand closed around my arm like a manacle, her commanding tone offered me no chance of refusal. Her firm grasp left me no option but to keep pace with her when she frog-marched me from the conference room and along the corridor to the executive rest room.
She closed the door and clicked the lock into place before releasing her hold. I flexed the cramp out of my arm and concentrated on suppressing the bubble of near hysterical laughter that filled my throat. So far, my wild plan had worked like a charm but it was too early to celebrate the sort of victory I’d hoped to achieve.
Sheridan shrugged out of her jacket and then her shirt. I followed every movement with eager anticipation. When she bent over the sink to rinse the green silk under running water, the sight of her breasts encased in a flesh colored strapless lace bra that left little to the imagination sent my libido racing into overdrive. I bit down hard on my bottom lip to prevent myself propositioning her there and then like some cheap tart. My long-term plan needed much more finesse if it was to succeed.
After a moment, I pulled myself together and followed her lead casually removing my cotton top, as if it was something I did every day of the week. At which point I thanked the Good Lord that I never wore a bra. I moved to the sink and concentrated on sluicing the coffee stained fabric, using the mirror to keep tabs on Sheridan while she passed her shirt under the blast of hot air from the hand drier then held it up to the light.
“Damn! This is totally ruined.” Sheridan tossed the shirt into the trash and glared at my reflection then her fiery gaze dipped lower. She stared long and hard at my naked tits. Under her scrutiny my nipples rose to the challenge, offering her an open invitation should she choose to take it, they peaked in tingling anticipation of the erotic pleasure her hands or lips might bring to bear. For what seemed endless seconds she remained impassive, then her tongue snaked out to moisten her lips. She reached out to circle one tight bud with a perfectly manicured fingernail, watching my reaction in the mirror. Her lips parted in a sensuous smile then, unexpectedly, she raked the blood-red varnished talon across the sensitized tip.
My body answered with a rush of liquid heat that pooled between my thighs and I was powerless to hold back the sharp intake of breath that betrayed my arousal. I dropped my top into the sink and squeezed my thighs together to trap the fire that licked at my throbbing pussy before I turned to face her.
Dalia Craig loves to both read and write a variety of contemporary erotic fiction. While her particular leaning is towards lesbian erotica, her writing encompasses all heat levels and diverse genre. She has a number of eBooks to her credit and is also a contributor to several print anthologies including: Where the Girls Are: Urban Lesbian Erotica, Best Lesbian Romance 2010 both from Cleis Press. Plus the Goldie 2013 nominated anthology, Sapphic Planet.
Bound by Consent, her first print novella, was launched at the GCLS event during Women’s Week 2012.
You can connect with her online at: www.daliacraig.com