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I harrumph. “Your point?”
She rolls her eyes, and I’m seriously considering rolling her head off her shoulders.
“The next time I tell you do something, you fucking do it. Understood, Lieutenant Watkins?”
Every feather on my body is officially ruffled, but I grit my teeth and bare it. “You got it,Captain.” I put as much animosity as I can muster into her title.
She turns so we’re face to face, and too fucking close for comfort. “Tell me, Beau, what pisses you off more? That you didn’t get the Captain position, or because you lost it to a woman?”
My body goes completely still as every blood cell in my veins freeze. Glacially, I raise my eyes to hers to find them blazing. Sure we haven’t been outright disrespectful of one another but the tension has been steadily building to this. I suppose it was just a matter of time before we had it out.
Ever so slowly I jerk a nod. “You’re right, Captain. I had been pissed that I had lost the position I had first set out for. It was the reason I moved down her and that anger has simmered since the minute I got here and realized my new superior was a woman. Not anymore, I won’t question your authority again.”
She’s clearly taken aback, but she hides it quickly enough and nods, rightfully gratified but also regretful. “Look, Lieutenant, I know I’m being too harsh and you honestly haven’t done anything out of line until now. I just don’t want to deal with any more back handed compliments and one upping each other. All I’m asking for a truce. Perhaps a clean slate.”
I nod because I want that as well.
Rubbing the back of my neck I admit, “Fair enough.”
I offer my hand which she immediately takes.
We stand there for a long moment, obvious discomfort thickening the air before she huffs a laugh. “Get out of here, I’m sure Caleb is waiting for you and we don’t need a fucking kumbaya moment.”
I chuckle. “No, we don’t. Hope you enjoy the rest of your day off. I know I will.” I offer a wink before I saunter away.
Chapter Twenty Three
? Sakura ?
My palms are freaking clammy as all get out. I keep wiping them on my jeans, but I barely grasp the steering wheel before they’re covered in moisture.
“Get a grip, girl. It’s not like this is your first time.” Well not my first time as in intercourse.
I mean, is what we’ve already done considered sex?
We’re two women, so does there need to be actual penetration?
Do her fingers count?
Because the two digits she pushed inside both… my face heats up until I break out in sweat.
Good grief!
I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this!
Just because she gave me so many orgasms I lost count, that doesn’t mean she’ll do it again this time. Yet, after I ring her doorbell a bit too enthusiastically I’m already caught off guard by her attire. She looks resplendent in what I know to be an authentic Japanese kimono. My mother owns a few that I’ve only glimpsed. Once as a child, I dared to touch, and I got the tongue-lashing of a lifetime. I never dared to even look at them again. But I never forgot the shiny brilliance of the fabric, or the intricacies of the folds.
I’m almost surprised her face isn’t painted like a Geisha, or that her hair is flowing down her back like silk, instead of knotted in an overly intricate bun. She takes my breath away.
I jump as the door shuts. Too lost in my exploration of her to notice that she closed it.
She smirks. “Good evening, Sakura.”
I glance down, suddenly shy as I glimpse her through my eyelashes. “Good evening, Mistress. You look amazing.”
That smirk grows as she swipes an elegant hand down her side. “Oh, this old thing?”
A giggle pops out, echoing around the cavernous entryway making my blush return with a vengeance. But when her smile quirks higher, and her dark eyes grow drowsy with lust, my blush moves down, heating a very different part of my body.
