Chapter Text
Westerberg Journal Office
Downtown Cincinnati
“Could all department heads please report to the Erie room? That’s all department heads to the Erie room. Thank you.”
Veronica groaned as she slumped against the back of her office chair, tightly screwing her eyes shut as if to fight off the migraine that would no doubt be coming her way soon. A summons over the office tannoy system was very rarely a good thing, typically reserved for when someone had fucked up so spectacularly that the only suitable course of action was a thorough ass kicking before they were handed their marching orders. Such a fate had befallen the newspaper’s Head of Marketing just two weeks prior. Veronica had been out of office that day owing to an eventful night on the town – one that had her swearing off ever going to Nancy Campbell’s Whisky Bar with JD and Betty again – but on her return the entire building was abuzz with the gossip. Seemingly, Courtney had shown up to some fancy schmancy marketing conference drunk out of her mind and had subsequently gotten into a screaming match with the event’s host before throwing up all over the woman’s Valentino heels. The very next Monday morning, she’d been hauled into the glass walled Ontario meeting room and chewed out by an irate Heather Duke (their Head of Human Resources) until she was in tears and heading for her desk, armed with a 12x12” cardboard box to pack up her things as all of her colleagues watched with a mixture of horror and glee.
Veronica and Courtney had never really gotten along – the woman had turned her nose up at Veronica as soon as she’d been introduced as the Westerberg Journal’s Head of Features, instantly rubbing Veronica up the wrong way – but the brunette couldn’t help but wince as her team joyfully recounted the tale over the shitty office coffee as soon as she came in that Tuesday morning.
As she reluctantly made her way to the Erie meeting room, Veronica racked her brain for any possible reasons that the company would have to fire her but, beyond occasionally taking a bit longer than allowed for lunch, she found herself drawing a blank. Piling into the elevator, she smiled politely at the small group of people already there: Peter (Head of Finance), Dennis (Head of Distribution) and Wesley (Head of Art Direction and Photography). Just as the steel doors started to close, a large hand shot out, prompting them open once again; Veronica could barely contain another groan as the tall figure of Kurt Kelly – Head of Sports Features – was revealed.
“Well, good morning, Veronica,” he said, stepping into the elevator, completely ignoring his male co-workers as he leered at the dark haired woman.
“It was,” she grumbled, shooting him her fakest smile. While she ordinarily tried to at least be cordial with the other Journal department heads, she’d long given up trying with Kurt and his deputy, Ram. The two man-children seemed to take every given opportunity to flirt with her, even after she’d kindly turned them down time after time. Mercifully, the elevator ride was short and within 30 seconds, Veronica managed to escape the overwhelming stench of Kurt’s Axe body spray, stepping out onto the third floor only to be met with the rare sight of the Journal’s chairman, Mr Gowan, sat at the head of the long conference table inside the glass walls of the Erie meeting room, flanked by an uncharacteristically smiling Heather Duke.
“Oh fuck,” she cursed quietly as they neared the room slowly. “What is he doing here?”
“Haven’t you heard, Sawyer?” Wesley asked with a knowing chuckle, not bothering to wait for a reply before continuing with a shrug. “Apparently, they hired a new Head of Marketing.”
Veronica let out a breath of relief as all of the pieces fell into place – after all, everyone now making their way inside the large meeting room was either the head of their respective department or from the fairly large marketing team. She smiled genuinely as she spied her friend, Martha and the ever-cheery Heather McNamara. Before she could greet them, Duke cleared her throat from the front of the room, gesturing for Gowan to begin once she’d successfully garnered everyone’s attention.
“Welcome everyone! I promise not to keep you all for long. Now, I’m sure you’re all well aware that, for the past few weeks, we’ve been on the hunt for a new head of our marketing team after the, well, unfortunately incident which led to Miss Wills recent departure. I’m glad to announce to you all this morning that we have indeed found the person to fill that role. Please join me in welcoming the Westerberg Journal’s new Head of Marketing – Miss Heather Chandler!”
Veronica politely clapped along with her co-workers, barely registering the door opening as she mused that things were bound to get confusing with yet another Heather joining the fold. She soon snapped out of her thoughts as the newcomer spoke up from the head of the table.
“Thank you, Mr Gowan. I’m thrilled to be joining the Westerberg family.” She said in a saccharine tone that sounded slightly familiar to Veronica. As soon as Veronica finally laid her dark eyes on her new colleague, she knew why.
16 days before
Nancy Campbell's Whisky Bar
Downtown Cincinnati
Veronica grinned as the handsome bartender handed over her order – a hard cider for herself, some fancy craft stout for Betty and a glass with a near unpronounceable Scotch whisky for JD.
“Thanks Ed!” she said cheerily as she stuffed a $5 bill into the already quite full tip jar before turning to her friends, handing them their drinks. “To JD!”
“To JD!” “To me, I guess.” Her friends toasted, clinking the rims of their glassware together then taking a long sip.
“Hey, buying your first place is a big deal! You should be celebrating.” Veronica reminded him only to get a half-hearted eye roll from the tall man.
“So you keep telling me, V.”
The three friends turned their attentions to the dart board tucked away in a dark corner at the back of the bar, JD handily trouncing the two women and laughing as they loudly accused him of somehow cheating. Soon they found they’d reached the bottom of their glasses and Veronica headed off to get them fresh drinks, her bank card tucked securely into the fabric of her bra as she gently pushed her way through the rather sweaty crowd of patrons, most of whom stood engrossed by a rugby game on the big screen at the centre of the bar.
Resting her elbows atop the bar, the brunette smiled as Ed once again made his way along to her. Before she could get her order out, she found herself interrupted by a soft voice emanating from beside her.
“Bruichladdich 2011, neat. Please.” The other customer said, holding out their card which was duly accepted by the bartender. Irritated that they’d cut her in the queue, Veronica turned to get a good look at the person next to her; her complaint died in her throat at the sight of the extremely attractive blonde woman perched on one of the barstools. The raised blonde eyebrow went unnoticed to the brunette as she drank in the very pleasant sight – from the expensive looking black leather loafers on her feet to the tight-fitting dark denim encasing her lower body all the way up to the low-cut white shirt which was mostly covered by a wine-coloured blazer. Her light blonde hair was wavy as it sat just below her shoulders, looking incredibly smooth and soft. “Is there a problem?”
“Oh no, no problem!” Veronica rushed out, reaching into her cleavage to retrieve the bank card. “J-just trying to order some more drinks.”
“Right…” The word hung in the air. Veronica could’ve sworn she felt the woman’s icy blue eyes scan over her body, like a predator surveying its prey. ‘I don’t think I’d mind that at all,’ the writer found herself thinking. Ed soon returned bearing the mystery blonde’s card and a whisky glass containing some of the amber liquid but no ice. “Thank you… Ed. Can I also get whatever my friend here and her group are having?”
“You don’t have to do that,” Veronica tried to insist.
“I know. Consider it reparations for cutting in line.” The blonde’s words were full of mirth as her delicate fingers raised the glass to smirking red lips. Veronica couldn’t help but watch as they parted and the woman sipped some down, not even wincing as it no doubt warmed her throat. “Go on – order whatever you want and do put that card away.” Blue eyes watched as Veronica hesitantly placed the bank card back under the fabric of her shirt.
“Um, another Crimson Bliss, a Blackheart stout and a… oh Jesus, fuck what was it again? Auction? Wait, no that’s not it.” She awkwardly fumbled around, trying to remember the name of the whisky JD had ordered earlier. “Damn Scots.”
“Auchentoshan, was it?” The blonde asked, seemingly amused.
“YES! Yeah, that was it! Auchentoshan, uh, 12-year-old I think? With ice, please, Ed.” Just as the bartender turned to fetch the drinks, the woman spoke up once again.
“Scratch that – do you have the Arran 10?” The bearded man smiled widely.
“Ah, a woman who knows her whiskies, I see. You wouldn’t believe how many people swear to love whisky then only order Jack. We got some Arran 10 last week.”
“We’ll take that instead. Neat, please.” Whilst Ed busied himself collecting the drinks, the two women turned to each other. “Trust me, your friend will appreciate it.”
“Awful presumptive that it’s not me drinking it.”
“No offence, but if it were for you, you'd've known how to pronounce Auchentoshan,” the blonde pointed out.
“Fair point. I’m Veronica, Veronica Sawyer,” she introduced herself, reaching out a hand for the other woman to shake although she just stared at it, amused, until Veronica retracted it.
“Nice to meet you, Veronica Sawyer. Name’s Heather.”
“What, like, Cher? No surname to go with that?”
“Half the fun is in the suspense, darling.” Heather drawled, knowing smirk firmly in place as Veronica gulped almost audibly, all of a sudden finding her mouth very dry. The blonde let out a bark of laughter as the other woman almost choked on her cider whilst attempting to get some moisture back in her mouth.
“W-would you like to join us?” The journalist sputtered, wiping at the corner of her mouth. Heather seemed to contemplate it for a minute, idly swirling the whisky in her glass as she did. “We’re just over by the – what the fuck?” Veronica had turned to gesture to JD and Betty where she’d last seen them at the dartboard only for them to be nowhere to be seen. Rising up onto her tiptoes to look around the crowded bar, she came up empty. Worried, she fished her fairly beat up Samsung out of her pocket and sighed with relief to see two text messages from JD:
JD – Betty felt a migraine coming on, I’m walking her home.
‘Ah, that makes sense,’ Veronica winced, knowing that her friend often had to deal with debilitating migraines. Reading the next message, she felt her face flush.
JD – On the plus side, now you get some alone time with leggy, pretty and blonde. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do and let me know when you get home ;)
“Everything okay?” Heather asked, startling Veronica who stumbled slightly; the blonde reached out and lightly grasped at her waist to keep her upright and smirked when Veronica let out a quiet gasp at the gentle contact. “My bad.”
“My friend Betty wasn’t feeling too well so our friend JD walked her home,” she explained, waving her phone slightly before spotting the drinks Heather had bought for her friends. “Shit, sorry, you totally wasted your money on us.”
“Don’t worry about it, I would hardly call it a waste. I hope your friend is alright, though.” The blonde woman stood up off of her barstool, drawing up to her full height which was a solid 3-4 inches taller than Veronica. ‘Fuck, of course she’s taller than you too, Sawyer,’ the brunette thought, very much aware that she liked her partners to be taller than her. Heather’s blue eyes darted around the packed room before ultimately landing on something near the doors which led to the bar’s bathrooms. “Well, Veronica Sawyer, if you feel up to it, a booth just opened up over there if you’d like to stick around with me?”
“I’d love to,” was the hurried response.
Heather seemed to smile as she drained the last of her whisky from its glass, setting the empty vessel on the bar before grabbing both the forgotten Arran 10 and Veronica’s slightly clammy hand. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything as she led the brunette over to the empty booth, sliding in with far too much elegance for someone who’d effectively downed neat whisky in two gulps. Veronica watched on as the enigmatic blonde moved the liquid around the walls of the glass, taking a small sip then offering the glass in her direction.
“Would you like a taste?”
‘Not from the glass,’ the voice in Veronica’s head said but she watched as a smirk grew to take over Heather’s pretty face. “Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” The brunette groaned, sinking down into the soft leather of the booth and hiding her flushed face with her hands.
“Indeed, you did. I’m flattered, Veronica. Really though, glassware aside, you should try it. Arran 10 is a lovely whisky.” Tentatively, Veronica accepted the glass, feeling her fingers brush against Heather’s long ones as she did. Just as she’d taken a small amount of the whisky into her mouth, Heather quietly spoke again. “The feeling is very much mutual, don’t worry.”
Instantly, the brunette felt the liquid descend her windpipe, forcing her cough. Heather, to her credit, darted to the bar to fetch a glass of water then rubbed at Veronica’s back while she gulped down the cold liquid.
“Jesus Christ, Heather. Were you trying to kill me?” Veronica said eventually with a hint of an unsure smile, rolling the whisky glass around between her hands and avoiding Heather’s gaze which somehow managed to be both full of mirth and apologetic.
“Not at all. Necrophilia isn’t my thing,” she quipped, laughing as Veronica’s dark eyes bugged out. “Okay, sorry, sorry. I promise I’ll stop teasing.”
“I hope not,” said Veronica after a moment had passed. Nervously, she risked a glance over at Heather and felt her heart race at the pleased look on her face, one perfectly groomed raised and dangerous smirk on plump red lips. The blonde reached over to take the whisky glass from between her hands and raised it to her lips.
“Noted.”
The two women stayed in that booth for another 30 minutes, the rest of the world in Nancy Campbell’s seemingly invisible to them. With each passing minute, there seemed to be another lingering look, another teasing remark, another electrifying touch – all of them serving to leave Veronica’s nervous system on edge in the best possible way. Soon, they both found themselves looking at the bottom of their respective glassware – alcohol drained away and leaving behind almost stifling tension.
“I’m just going to the bathroom,” Heather announced, standing and sending a look Veronica’s way before slinking over to the saloon style doors. Veronica couldn’t help but watch the blonde’s hip sway, something which was clearly deliberate as Heather paused at the doors and winked in her direction.
“Holy fuck,” Veronica breathed once the blonde disappeared from view. “Get your shit together, Sawyer.” Slipping a mint into her mouth, she followed her companion, pulling at her shirt to show off more cleavage whilst weaving through the bar’s patrons. Eventually, she steeled herself before crossing the threshold into the bathroom. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed to find Heather standing at the sinks, checking her flawless reflection, beside an elderly woman who was applying a horrid shade of lipstick to thin, withered lips. The woman turned to the brunette as she stepped into the room, lipstick on two of her yellowing teeth.
“Have a nice night, love?” she asked; Veronica smiled a tight, but polite smile back.
“I’ve certainly had worse company.” In the background, Heather smirked slightly while fluffing her hair. “Erm, I’m just going to…” Veronica awkwardly moved into one of the empty stalls. The hand dryer soon fired up before the woman called out ‘enjoy the rest of your nights, dears!’ and the bathroom door opened and closed. Giving it a few seconds, the smaller woman once again took a deep breath before leaving the stall and going to stand beside Heather at the sinks. Turning on the faucet all the way to its coldest setting, Veronica let the water run over the skin of her wrists in an attempt to calm herself down; it proved to be for naught as Heather came to stand behind her. One hand came to rest on the small of her back, just beneath her leather jacket but atop the fabric of her shirt, whilst the other lazily played with dark brown tresses.
Neither of them said anything as eager brown locked onto amused but focused blue in the mirror.
“Heather… shit,” Veronica whined loudly when Heather tugged lightly on her hair. The blonde let go and gently turned the woman to face her. Veronica gulped slightly as she tilted her head up to look at Heather’s face whilst her arms wound around her waist.
“Hmmmm, I like the sound of that,” the taller woman mused. Almost on autopilot, Veronica felt herself leaning up to kiss her but stopped when the strong arms around her kept her grounded. “No, not quite yet. I want to have a little chat first, do a little admin as it were - that okay?” Veronica went to complain but something in Heather’s demeanour had her switch course so she nodded.
“Great. I need to make sure we both know what we’re in for and are clear headed enough to consent to it. I’ve only had the two drinks you seen me order and drink, what about you?” The brunette was slightly taken aback – her only other one night stand hadn’t bothered to have this conversation with her. Part of her wondered what she was getting into if it required such a serious conversation beforehand.
“Just two ciders and that sip of whisky.”
“And you feel fine, not fuzzy in the head or drunk?” Heather’s eyes searched Veronica’s looking for any signs of obvious drunkenness, seemingly satisfied with what she found.
“Yeah, I feel alright, just slighter warmer than usual,” Veronica laughed, knowing it wasn’t the alcohol heating her up. The smirk on Heather’s face showed that she knew it too. Veronica sighed as fingers started to run through her hair again, pulling ever so slightly from the root. At one particularly hard tug, she couldn’t conceal her groan. “Fuck.”
“That is the general idea, yes. We’re nearly done, just a couple more questions then we can continue, alright?”
“What’s your questions?” The amused smile on Heather’s face disappeared and was replaced with a very much more serious appearance, the blonde removing her hand from Veronica’s hair altogether.
“Hey, this is important. Either we have this conversation and continue, or we don’t and go our separate ways.”
“Sorry, Heather. Let’s continue.” Veronica apologised contritely, realising that she’d clearly stepped over a line with her abrupt tone.
“It’s fine, it’s just important to me that we discuss this first. Like I said, we need to know what we’re in for. Now you’ve probably guessed by now that I like to be in control with my partners and, gauging from your reactions so far, that isn’t an issue, but I do need to know how far I can go. I’m assuming teasing and hair pulling are okay?” The blonde explained, watching Veronica’s reaction closely.
“Very. I, um, also like hearing what you want to do.” As Veronica tried to look away, she found Heather grasping her chin, forcing her to make eye contact. A sharp intake of breath soon followed. “And, ugh, also that apparently.”
“Okay, so teasing, hair pulling, dirty talk and forced eye contact. Is there anything you don’t want?”
“I don’t like feet,” she blurted out, making Heather snort a chuckle. Heather’s hand returned to her hair, just gently running the dark strands over her fingertips.
“Yeah, I get that. Don’t worry, I’m not into that either. Can you think of anything else?” Veronica thought for a moment, thinking of her previous partners and what she had not enjoyed with them. One particularly unpleasant evening with her ex came to mind, making her bite her lip. “Hey, you can tell me, it’s important that I know these things so I can make it enjoyable for you, okay?”
“This’ll sound stupid…” she began, trailing off when she saw Heather raise her eyebrow again, although her face remained soft and reassuring. “Idon’tthinkIlikepeoplegoingdownonme.”
“Sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable, but can you repeat that?” Veronica groaned, going to cover her reddening face with her hands, stopped by Heather’s relatively loose grip around her wrist. “Okay, sorry, let me just repeat what I think you said, is that better?” Feeling Veronica nodded against her shoulder, she continued. “You don’t enjoy receiving oral sex?”
“I don’t think so.” The words came out in a mumble but Heather didn’t force her to speak up which she was grateful for.
“Are you sure?”
“My ex-boyfriend didn’t want to do it so it’s not something I’ve ever really tried.” Heather nodding in understanding. Veronica didn’t notice the irritated look on the blonde’s face as she hid her own face against the red blazer.
“That's not stupid at all. Are you open to trying it? It’s okay if not, it’s just a lot of women tend to enjoy it.”
“Maybe?”
“Maybe is more than fine.” Heather leaned down to place a gentle kiss against the back of Veronica’s head. The two of them stood in the bathroom for a moment or so, just in comfortable quiet until the door opened and the same old lady from earlier walked in. The younger women sprung apart, flustered, both of them opting to face the sinks instead of the intruder.
“OH! I’m sorry dears, didn’t mean to interrupt.” She hurried over to the nearest stall, locking it quickly. Once satisfied that they had a brief moment alone, Heather once again moved behind Veronica, grabbing more harshly at her waist, and pulling until the brunette’s back made contact with her own chest. Veronica watched with rapt interest through the mirror as Heather manoeuvred her hair over to her left shoulder and out of the way before placing kisses along the length of her pale neck, ultimately trailing upward until she reached Veronica’s ear. Teeth nipped gently at her earlobe momentarily, barely long enough for the sensation to be registered, stopping so Heather could speak again.
“Was there anything else, Veronica?” Her already low voice had taken on a more raspy quality, one that made Veronica’s knees tremble a little; in that moment, she felt grateful for Heather’s sure hands on her waist. Instinctively, Veronica shook her head, but stopped as Heather gently did the same. “Use your words, please, Veronica.”
“N-no. Nothing else, Heather.”
“Good. Shall we get a cab back to mine?”
The two of them were out of the bathroom before the elderly woman even emerged from her bathroom stall.
Heather's apartment
Mt Adams, Cincinnati
Veronica barely had time to register her surroundings as she and Heather entered the blonde’s apartment, finding herself pressed up against the front door the very instant that it shut. She opened her mouth to make a teasing remark but ended up swallowing a satisfied groan as Heather’s red lips finally descended onto her own. Her hands scrambled to find purchase on any part of the very eager blonde, ultimately settling to grab onto the fabric of her blazer, the cool material in stark contrast to the sweltering heat between them. Veronica swore she felt her head spin while Heather’s mouth manipulated her own, those lips skilfully setting her body ablaze and her pulse racing. Willingly, she allowed Heather’s tongue entrance when it swiped across her slightly swollen lips. There was still a faint trace of whisky on Heather’s lips, the taste of it mixing wonderfully with the taste of her lipstick. Too soon, Heather pulled away with a smirk, looking very much like the cat that caught the canary as she took in the sight of Veronica’s heaving chest, flushed face, dilated pupils and slightly messy hair. The blonde didn’t stay away for long, however, stepping back into the shorter woman’s space and purposefully positioning a denim clad thigh between Veronica’s own while simultaneously placing rough, open-mouthed kisses upon her exposed neck, nipping at the skin.
“Jesus, fuck, Heather,” groaned Veronica, grasping at the blonde locks in front of her. Unexpectedly, and much to the brunette’s frustration, Heather stopped to untangle the hands from her hair, firmly pinning Veronica’s arms above her head.
“You’re going to leave your arms there.” The blonde commanded, resulting in a none too quiet whine and a frantic series of nods. “When I give you an instruction or ask you a question, I want a verbal response, okay? So, Veronica, you’re going to keep your hands in that position until I say otherwise, aren’t you?”
“Y-yes, Heather,” stammered Veronica dutifully. Heather returned to her motions, pleased when Veronica did as she was told.
“Good. You’ve been so good for me tonight, sweetheart.” The sound that the praise drew from Veronica’s lips could only be described as sinful, somewhere between a needy whine and a frustrated moan. The left corner of Heather’s mouth quirked upward when she felt the brunette grind down against her thigh albeit subtly. “Do you like that?”
“God, yes.”
“Tell me. I want to hear exactly what it is that you like.” The blonde resumed her kisses on Veronica’s skin, feeling her pulse race just below the surface, whilst her sure hands slowly set about removing Veronica’s leather jacket, making sure that the other woman had plenty of opportunity to stop if she so wished. Not that Veronica did.
“I-uh-fuck…” Heather paused, eyebrow raised in question and slight concern. Veronica saw the silent question of ‘are you okay?’ and rushed to reassure the taller woman. “I’m okay, I promise. I’m just trying to formulate a response here ‘cause holy fuck.” Satisfied, the blonde laughed quietly, backing off so as not to overwhelm the petite brunette.
“Take your time, we have all night.” She reminded Veronica with a wink, taking her hand and pulling her off of the door. The two of them wandered through the apartment, Heather leading them through a hallway which opened out into the open plan living/dining space before landing in the adjacent kitchen; Veronica leant against the marble island whilst Heather removed two pint glasses from a cabinet and filled them with water. “Here.”
“Thanks,” replied Veronica, gratefully supping down the cold liquid. Heather sipped at her water quietly while keeping an eye on Veronica, eventually setting her now half-empty glass down on the counter and standing in front of her, close enough to rest her forearms on slight but toned shoulders.
“That better?”
“Yeah, thanks, I just needed a second.” Reaching behind her, Veronica set the nearly empty glass down. She reached out to run her fingers through Heather’s hair, but paused, unsure if the reason Heather had stopped her from pulling at her hair earlier was a hard limit the blonde had.
“You can play with my hair if you want, you know. That was just for that specific scenario, it’s not a no-go for me.” Relieved, Veronica gently threaded blonde strands through her fingers, marvelling at how soft it was. ‘I need to find out what shampoo she uses, Jesus.’ “You good to keep going?”
“More than.”
Promptly and without warning, Veronica found herself spun around, her front pressed against the cool marble of the island while the warmth of Heather’s body pressed from behind. Somehow, the dominant woman had also managed to trap Veronica’s hands behind her back whilst also returning her leg to its previous position.
“I believe you still owe me an answer, Ronnie,” Heather’s voice rasped directly into Veronica’s ear. “What is it you liked so much earlier, huh?”
“The p-pet name and you pra-praising me.”
“That’s good.” Heather’s fingers danced their way up the fabric over Veronica’s ribcage, pressing ever so slightly through the thin white t-shirt.
“P-please, Heather,” groaned the brunette, barely resisting the urge to grind down against the toned thigh between her legs; as if she could read minds, Heather pressed up against her more insistently, producing a low moan from Veronica’s throat.
“Such a good girl, telling me what you like. And so polite too,” The blonde cooed, petting Veronica’s hair and smirking while she squirmed. Heather tugged on the t-shirt. “Do you want me to take this off?”
“Please!” Veronica was expected Heather to just tug the fabric over her head. She didn’t anticipate the blonde placing gentle kisses up her spine as she gently lifted the shirt away until it sat, uselessly, around her neck. There was a brief pause and Veronica was almost tempted to turn her head and look behind her when, suddenly, she felt Heather bite down on the side of her neck, pulling the tender skin between her teeth as she left behind what would, no doubt, be a significant mark.
“Oh, oh shit!” She cried out, making contact once again with Heather’s leg. Without a second’s reprieve, Heather turned her back around, her long fingers finding their way to the cups of the brunette’s bra and, more specifically, the nipples which strained against the thin material. Twisting lightly through the fabric, Heather preened at Veronica’s reactions – mouth open while she let out little whimpers, eyebrows drawn taught together and a light sheen of sweat forming on her brow bone.
“Can I take this off too?” Forgetting herself, and Heather’s earlier rule, Veronica nodded enthusiastically. A sharp slap against her heated chest reminded her that she was supposed to speak up. “I’ve already told you once, Ronnie. Closed mouths don’t get fed.”
“Heather, please, please take it off.” She pleaded, sighing with relief as Heather obliged.
“See, isn’t it so much better when you just tell me what you want?”
“Yes. Can you touch me, anywhere? I just ne…”
“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, sweetheart. Don’t worry your pretty little head.”
Veronica let out a quiet ‘eep!’ noise as Heather hoisted her up onto the island counter, careful to avoid the glass of water nearby. Once she was situated, the blonde wasted no time in kissing along her collarbone, leaving little bites and kisses in her wake as she made a path down Veronica’s chest to her final destination and the stiff nipples, one of which she gently pulled between her teeth while her hand toyed with the other soft breast before alternating between them, not wanting to leave any part of the smaller girl feeling left out. She glanced up, feeling very smug at the picture she saw. Veronica had seemingly broken apart, her inhibitions long gone as she moaned breathily between cursing whimpers and whispers of Heather’s name. Standing to her full height, she gently kisses soft rosy lips, trying to convey a little more tenderness. Soon though, the kisses turned heated once again and Heather used the distraction to dance her fingers down Veronica’s torso to the button of her jeans.
“This okay?”
“Heather, I swear to god if you don’t fucking touch me…” Quickly, the blonde removed her hand from her cold metal to Veronica’s face, grasping her jaw firmly.
“Oh yeah? What you going to do, pretty girl?” Veronica visibly fumbled for words, her mind seemingly gone blank as she was forced to hold the steely blue stare. “Nothing to say?”
“N-nothing, sorry Heather.”
“That’s two incidences of insolence now, Veronica. Be careful to make sure there isn’t a third, or else teasing is as far as you’ll get tonight. I have no problem leaving you here on my counter, high and – well, I would say dry, but I doubt that’s the case. What do you think about that? I’d have you watch too, unable to touch me or yourself as I get myself off to your pretty little whimpers and moans. That doesn’t sound much fun, does it?”
“No, not at all. Please, Heather, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sure you are sweetheart, but I have an idea for how you can make it up to me.” Slowly, the blonde stepped back, quickly removing her blazer and peeling off the white shirt underneath, revealing a dark red bra that somehow hadn’t shown through the fabric of her shirt. Veronica didn’t have much time to dwell on that thought, however, as soon Heather was stepping out of those dark jeans, showing off the toned and tanned muscles as well as the matching dark red thong which had lay beneath.
“Oh shit,” said Veronica, reverentially. Heather chuckled as she carelessly threw the jeans somewhere behind her. Almost at a snail’s pace, she made her way into the living room with Veronica following close behind, sitting in an expensive looking brown leather arm chair, legs pressed together after removing the fancy looking throw pillow and throwing it to the floor.
“Come here, Veronica.” The blonde curled her pointer finger toward herself, laughing when the brunette hurried over, nearly losing her balance on the hardwood floor. The taller woman spread her legs open, making room for Veronica to stand between them which she did. “Do you want to hear what I was thinking?”
“Yes, Heather,” was the obedient response.
“I was thinking that you’d look so pretty on your knees for me.” Veronica wasted no time following the thinly veiled order, sinking to her knees onto the cushion. Heather softly reached out to smooth down some of the dark locks which had become rather unruly throughout their evening. “Good girl. See, you can behave when you want to, can’t you?”
“I can, I really can.”
“So, why haven’t you?” Brown eyes avoided searching blue. The hand in Veronica’s hair tightened, forcing eye contact between the two women and making Veronica gasp quietly.
“I-I don’t know, I just…” Heather waited patiently, sensing that the other woman just needed a moment to get her brain functioning properly. “I just really wanted you to touch me.”
“And what’s the best way to do that, hmmm? Is it disobeying my orders or doing as you were told and telling me what you want?”
“Telling you what I want.”
“That’s right. For now, though, you’re going to listen to what I want.”
“Yes, Heather. Whatever you want.” Veronica replied, leaning into Heather’s touch.
“Such a good girl for me. You don’t need to reply to these instructions. First, what I want you to do is take these panties off me.” Eager, albeit slightly shaky fingers, hooked around expensive lace and pulled gently downward, Veronica’s dark eyes following their path until they reached the floor. Only then did she dare look at what they’d revealed. She felt her heart thudding against the confines of her ribcage at the view – Heather staring imperiously back at her, her legs spread with her inner thighs and core showing obvious evidence of arousal. ‘Glad it’s not just me,’ Veronica thought, shifting as she felt her own underwear cling to her beneath her pants. “Now, come a little closer. Good. Use your mouth, oh fuck!”
The blonde moaned as Veronica followed her instructions before she’d even finished, hands instantly finding their way into dark brown hair. Her hips stuttered against the armchair, grinding into Veronica’s eager tongue whilst her fingers kept her in place. Veronica paused momentarily, moving her body so that Heather’s legs would sit over her shoulders. Veronica revelled in the way that Heather’s thighs seemed to clench around her head, the sensation just adding to the addictive nature of the situation; she considered that she could easily taste Heather every moment of the day and never get bored of it. Feeling the fingers in her hair loosen slightly, the brunette pulled back, mumbling slightly, knowing that technically she was supposed to be following Heather’s lead.
“Hold me there and ride my face,” she wished. Heather used the hand in her hair to jerk her face upward, locking eyes with her.
“What was that? Say it a little louder for me,” the blonde breathed, chest heaving with desire.
“Please… Use my tongue, take what you want from me until you’re done.” The megawatt smile sent her way was worth the slight humiliation.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.”