Page 75 of Windlass

“Jesus Christ, Angie,” Stevie said as Angie followed her nails with her teeth.

“Which one? You can’t have us both.”

“Jesus, definitely.”

“Why,” said Angie, “because he was well hung?”

Stevie’s laughter was bright and glorious, and as it had done since their first encounter filled Angie with something like sunshine if sunshine was also dark and fragrant.

“Angie,” Stevie said in a lower voice when she’d finished, “please take my fucking pants off.”

“No need for please.”

She undid the belt with her fingers, looking up at Stevie the whole while. That Stevie appreciated the posture was evident in the sudden heaviness of her eyelids and the color flushing her chest and face as well as the increase in her breathing.

As she went for the button, however, Stevie stopped her with a hand in her hair.

“No.”

“No?”

“I want you to use your teeth.”

Stevie, she reflected, feeling her own breathing quicken, wouldn’t take much training at all. Holding her hands behind her back to illustrate her commitment to the task, she leaned in, letting her breath warm the skin above the waistband.

Undoing a button with one’s teeth wasn’t as simple as it sounded. Luckily for Stevie, though Angie was fairly certain she would not see it that way, she’d had practice. The trick was to grab the stiff part of the hem and slowly work it over, using her chin for leverage. The pressure of her chin against Stevie’s cunt, the heat of which she could feel through the denim, made Stevie’s hand tighten on her hair, an added bonus.

The zipper tasted cold and metallic. That didn’t matter. She slid it down with a slowness she hoped Stevie found agonizing. Then, because Angie knew how to undo Stephanie Ward, she tilted her head back until she could gently nip the skin of Stevie’s forearm and tug insistently.

“Hell yes,” said Stevie, figuring out what Angie wanted. Angie slid her lips over Stevie’s fingers and took them into her mouth past the first and second knuckle, almost up to the third. She smelled the ensuing rush of Stevie’s desire; her own body’s reaction was instant and sharp. She smiled before sliding her lips back, working her tongue in a teasing pattern as she went.

“This doesn’t count, does it?” Stevie asked, though the question was more of a plea. Angie knew what she meant: did this count as sex as far as their agreement was concerned.

“Not if you don’t come.” She left Stevie’s fingertips resting against her lower lip.

“I stand by what I said.” Stevie let the back of her head hit the wall. “You’re the sadist.”

“If you’re good and try on all the outfits, I’ll let you feel how wet I am.” She pulled Stevie’s pants down over her hips and planted a cruelly chaste kiss on the front of her briefs.

Angie teased Stevie through several outfit changes, at last arriving at the final set. “I have one more thing I want you to try on.”

Stevie kissed the side of her neck. There was an unconsciousness to the kiss that shut Angie’s eyes with its sweetness. She untangled herself with reluctance.

“Is that a vest?”

“Very good. Stevie has mastered identification of common objects.” She inflected her tone to sound like a report card.

“Ass. Take this and put it on.” Stevie pulled a dress Angie had seen her grab, thinking it was for herself, and tossed it to her. She caught it, the silky material slipping over her hands. Voices sounded from a nearby stall as another pair of shoppers joined them. The use of the word “mom” suggested it was a mother and daughter.

Angie handed Stevie a pair of linen pants.

“These are wide-legged.” Stevie glanced at the pants, then up at Angie. “I don’t do wide-legged.”

“That’s because you haven’t bought new pants since I’ve met you.”

“Not true.”

“Buying the same pair of jeans over and over again doesn’t count.”

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