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Gen let out a relieved breath, glad Marguerite understood so quickly. "I know, but I don't know. There's no one else I can test it with safely. Chloe's right. She's not like you and Lyda. I'm sorry, this is so beyond appropriate. I've lost my mind. Just forget it."
"If you do need that from me, you misstated it, Gen." Marguerite studied her. "You don't want to kiss me. You need me to kiss you."
Her stomach coiled up like a puppy, not sure whether it wanted to cower or wriggle in anticipation. Gen didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Marguerite did. "Let's make it as representative as possible. Ask me for what you need, Gen."
Marguerite's expression and tone changed, such that Gen was looking at a formidable Mistress, one who compelled men to fall on their knees and kiss the soles of her shoes, just like Lyda had described. She hadn't thought of Marguerite Domming another woman, but that talent for some Dominants apparently had no gender restraint.
God...the idea of being on her knees, kissing Lyda's ankles, the arch of her foot, a delicate curve...
Not something she'd ever fantasized about. Yet Lyda had mentioned it today, and there it was, planted it in her head. Maybe every step along the way was a progression. What Gen had never considered before now seemed possible, the rest of the journey needed first to understand its appeal to this newly revealed part of herself.
"Please." She looked at Marguerite as a Mistress, not as her boss, her friend...or as an equal. "Will you kiss me?" She spoke over breath suddenly in short supply. "Will you kiss me, ma'am?"
Marguerite considered her another long moment, then she leaned down, sliding one knuckle beneath Gen's chin to tilt her face up. She held her there another breath, then brushed her mouth across Gen's eyelid, making both eyes close. Those cool, soft lips moved over the bridge of Gen's nose, her cheek, the line of her jaw. Gen trembled hard, her hands closing into knots on her knees. Then Marguerite pressed her lips against Gen's. A slow, wet journey, her mouth moving over Gen's as Gen focused all her senses on that one point of contact and how it emanated to the rest of her.
She was the one who drew back, broke the embrace. She stared up at Marguerite as the woman straightened, withdrawing her touch with kindness, a caress of her cheek. "So...it is her. I definitely felt that wow, zing moment when I asked you for it, and waited on your decision, but all I could think about while you were doing it was how this felt not quite right. And not just because you and I don't connect that way."
"You want to belong to her."
"Yeah." Gen rubbed her stomach. "This is so confusing."
"It's not confusing at all. Not if you stop thinking about it so much." Marguerite bent again, this time to drop a kiss on the crown of Gen's head with surprising tenderness. "Go back to work. I have a shipment to sort, and employees wanting me to kiss them are not productive."
"Oh, Tyler's here. Tyler's here." Gen blanched. "M, I'm so sorry. Should I have done this? Do I need to apologize to him? I mean he is your Mas..."
She broke it off right there. While Tyler being Marguerite's Master had brought emotional stability to her life, saying it straight out felt like a definite no-go zone.
Marguerite relieved Gen's worries on that score by tilting her head, a pointed gesture. Gen twisted around. Now she really did wish a hole would swallow her up. Tyler was outside the shed. He was sitting on a bench about twenty feet away, checking something on his phone. But his legs were stretched out, his ankles crossed, as if he'd been there awhile. Long enough. Marguerite would have been facing him when she leaned down to kiss Gen. That meant Marguerite could have looked for a permission of her own, if it had been needed.
"He's an irrevocably straight male," Marguerite said dryly. "Giving him the opportunity to watch two women kiss is nothing that requires an apology."
Gen choked on a chuckle. Even so, she wasn't up to exiting the shed where she'd have to pass him, meet that piercing gaze. With a sheepish look at Marguerite, she escaped out the back exit and took a circuitous route back to the main building.
It also gave her some time to think. One thing had become clear. If she wanted to pursue things more deeply with Lyda and Noah, it was time to stop waffling over it. Yes, she'd played it safe to keep her world in balance, but one thing she'd learned over the years. When she did move into new territory, there was no sense in being tentative about it once she was committed. There was control in choosing a course of action, as well as a message she could send to Lyda and Noah.
Up until now, she really had been letting Lyda take all the initiative, but Chloe had given Gen a key. Pursuing a relationship, even if the Dom/sub aspect was a strong element of it, was still a two-way street. Well, three-way, in this case. Lyda's reaction to Gen's withdrawal last night at the club had underscored it. Lyda was a human being with needs and feelings. It wasn't fair for Gen to hang back and make her drag everything out of her.
She would invite Lyda and Noah for dinner, have them as her guests. She wanted Lyda to see her home. Since Lyda had expressed reservations about a move as telling as meeting Noah's grandmother, Gen wasn't sure how she'd feel about the idea, but she wasn't going to be a chicken, fearing rejection. Whether or not Lyda accepted the invitation, it would tell her Mistress how Gen felt about their relationship.
Plus, Lyda hadn't said when the Gatlinburg thing was, and Gen didn't want to wait until then to see her and Noah. Actually, she didn't want to wait more than a few hours. Thinking of how fast she could put together a decent dinner, she pulled out her phone and found she already had a text, one that worked her up in all sorts of ways.
Pack an overnight bag and come to my place tonight. I want you and Noah here. Yes or no?
Yes. Though she had a feeling her decision wouldn't improve her focus in the least, she was in better spirits, almost ebullient. She might even be up to giving Chloe's teasing a spirited challenge. She was certain the imp had a naked picture or two of Brendan on her phone...
*
Marguerite watched Gen hurry away, then stepped to the doorway where she could see her husband. Tyler
had lifted his attention from the phone the moment Gen had disappeared, proving it had been a ruse to avoid embarrassing Gen further. Her Southern gentleman.
He met her gaze. "That was interesting."
"I'll bet." She allowed her lips to curve. "How interesting?"
"Interesting enough I wish I didn't have that meeting with Michael in about thirty minutes. But anticipation is everything."
"Yes, it is."
