DISCLAIMER: We all know that I don't own them. By now I'm pretty sure
that it's also been established that suing me will result in you
owning half of my nothing. You can't own my ideas though....
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay. Some of you said I should follow up Her Hand in Mine. This is the result. I hope it's good enough for you. This one is kind of short, but I hope you like it. I have decided not to elaborate on work, and just enjoy the two women. As always, tell me what you think.
SERIES: This story follows Her Hand in Mine.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Her Lips Against Mine
By Amy Jo
Work goes by in a breeze. She is there by my side almost the entire time. I enjoy having her so near. When she focuses on work it is like there is nothing else. She is intent in her purpose and unyielding in her methods.
I watch her as she runs the routine of our job. Some may not believe it, but our jobs are just as mundane as the next, if only a little weirder. Process the scene and gather the evidence. Interview family, friends, witnesses. Take the evidence to the lab and run the required tests. To us it is the same as the nine to five grind. We have good days, we have bad days.
Sara is having a good day. Which in turn means that I am as well. She is really happy today. She has smiled more than I have ever seen her smile. Even with that gap in her front teeth, which I know she hates, her smile is so beautiful to me. Her eyes light up and she always tilts her head to the side a little when she smiles. I'm not sure she realizes it and someday I want to ask where that reflex comes from. But today I am content to watch her smile
At the end of an all-to-brief shift, I realize with sadness that it's time to go home. I have been silently dreading this moment all night long. I have been so giddy enjoying Sara's attentions for the evening that I feel like a teenager again. Now as it is time for her to go her way, and I mine, I feel a sudden ache to ask her to go somewhere, anywhere, with me.
My daughter is spending this whole week with my sister, and my house will be empty and silent when I get there. I can fill the silence, but it will still be empty. I do not have the courage to ask Sara to come to my place, even though that is what want.
I want her to see me outside work. To know that I am really not the strong, sometimes bitchy woman she thinks she knows. I want her to see the side of me that is a loving mother, a good friend. If I were honest with myself, I want her to see the side of my that loves her and wants her. Sometimes I think honesty is overrated.
Once again, my brain has so immersed itself in thoughts of her that I don't notice her presence in the room for a second time. I had originally just stopped by the locker room on my way out of the building to grab my purse. But somewhere between my locker and the door, I managed to get lost in thoughts of her and now she is standing right in front of me.
I think she must have already been in here, or she has been in here for a few minutes. I now smell a perfume on her skin that wasn't there before. She smells wonderful. I know the scent, it's actually one of my favorites. Halo. It's a Victoria's Secret fragrance. It definitely smells better on her than it ever did on me.
She is looking at me with her brow creased in confusion. She is so cute. I realize that I am not likely to get over my infatuation her if she keeps being so friendly. She really looks concerned that I have been acting so strange today.
I thought I was shocked earlier when she enveloped me in her arms for a simple hug. That feeling was nothing compared to my near speechlessness when I hear her ask me if I want to grab something to eat with her. It takes my brain too long to comprehend what she has said and respond. I see a flicker of hurt flash through her eyes as she thinks I have rejected her. She turns to leave.
"Sara, no. Don't go." My voice is weak. When did that happen? Now I can't even seem to get enough courage to talk to her. I reach out to grab her hand and try my best to suppress the sharp intake of breath as I touch her.
Her skin is smooth and hot. Not hot like her temperature but hot like she burns for my touch as much as I do for hers. I am sure I am imagining things. Surely if she were attracted to me, I would have noticed right? I mean, I have noticed everything about her, how could I have missed something as important as this? It must be my imagination.
But when she turns around to face me again, I know that I see desire in her eyes. I have looked into her eyes and seen fear, anger, hatred, kindness, understanding and so much more. The only thing that describes the look in her eyes is lust.
My entire body is now hot. Some of it is from embarrassment, some of it is from holding her hand in mine, but most of it comes from the look she is giving me. My breathing becomes shallow and erratic as she moves closer to me.
Her free hand moves up and brushes a stray hair behind my ear. I close my eyes and lean into the touch, hoping she does not notices the shivers of delight that run up and down my body. Her hand stays rested against my chin with her fingers still behind my ear. The smell of her perfume gets slightly stronger and I realize that she must be inches from me.
I open my eyes and she is right there. We are nose-to-nose. I have her hand in mine, her other hand is cradling the side of my face. I look into her eyes and what I see there is enough to make my knees weak and my heart stop. I close my eyes again and try to remain calm. All hope is lost as I feel the soft press of her lips against mine.
The End
Sequel She Did Not Need to Speak