Page 32 of Pyg

Alice giggled, traced her fingers up Fran’s stomach and played with her nipple instead. Fran frowned.

“What’s up?”

“It was you mentioning Truscote.”

“But you brought her up this time!”

“Either way, it made me think about Jeremy. Do you remember what we talked about before?”

Alice’s fingers froze in place.

Fran continued. “You know, about me leaving him… and you and me starting over somewhere new?”

“I thought we agreed that was a bad idea. I’m forty-two and all I own is a shitty car and the tiny flat I bought with the money my mum left me. I can’t offer you the life Jeremy does.”

Fran twisted her fingers into Alice’s curls and kissed the top of her head. “I know, but would it matter? I think about us together and imagine our days like this.”

“This isn’t real life, though, is it? I need to work; I have bills, and there’s my overdraft and my credit card?—”

“I have needs too, you know.”

Alice rolled her eyes. “Needing to get laid isn’t the same as needing to get paid, Fran.”

“Shh! Don’t be a bore.” Fran traced lazy circles over Alice’s upper arm with her fingertips. “Just imagine you and me, our own cosy little place somewhere. Not having to do all this sneaking around in hotels. We’ll have our own big bed and our own soft sheets… I’d be able to have you whenever I wanted to…”

Alice scoffed. “You kind of do that anyway.”

Fran turned and muted her with a fervent kiss.

“But what would I do for work?”

Fran slipped her hand between Alice’s legs. “You’d be my little sex slave,” she purred.

“That’s not a real job.”

“I beg to differ. With a body like yours, you could fetch good money.”

Alice clenched her thighs around Fran’s hand. “That’s really offensive, actually.”

Fran pouted. “Oh, play nicely, Madame French.”

Alice relaxed her legs and Fran pushed on. Alice gasped as Fran’s fingers found their way inside her. “See, you’re not so offended now,” she said and glided a third finger inside.

“Oh fuck,” Alice murmured, partly in pleasure, partly in disgust at her body’s insatiable appetite for this woman.

“There’s a good little sex slave.” Fran’s cackle trickled through Alice, intoxicating her like a potent cocktail; she’d always want just one more sip of her.

Fran built up the tempo, her fingers curling inside and causing waves of pleasure to crash over Alice; her thoughts scrambled until she latched onto something bright and firm… clarity. Oh, how she adored this woman… why shouldn’t Fran leave Jeremy? Maybe the two of us could make a go of it?

Andfuck, here she was again, screaming in release as she toppled over the edge, completely undone by the fingers of her lover,Francesca Dalton.

* * *

Fran pulledup two blocks away from the offices of T&D. She cut the engine and twisted in her seat, watching as Alice applied fresh lip gloss in the visor mirror. Alice craned her neck to examine a deep purple bruise, still visible under the caked-on concealer.

“Did you have to bite so hard?”

Fran’s painted lips twisted into a smirk as Alice met her gaze. “Here, wear this.” Fran untied her silk scarf and looped it around Alice’s neck.

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