DISCLAIMER: The Devil Wears Prada and its characters belong to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for the Spring Challenge at the DWP LJ community. The challenge was to write a fic based only on the title of one of Meryl's movies. My prompt was Lions for Lambs.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
Taking The Bait
By quiethearted (QH Fletcher)
Nigel stood before the balustrade following the movements of the tuxedoed men and vividly gowned women in the ballroom below. He had always loved this venue as the balcony that ringed the upper level allowed for innumerable vantage points to view the proceedings below. Amused eyes lazily scanned the growing crowd. It wouldn't be much longer before Miranda made her appearance. Even now, he could see the new first assistant, Carla, drifting towards the foot of the staircase. Emily, having recently been promoted to an Associate Editor's position in the Art Department, would soon be joining him, along with Serena. They had something of a pool going on these events and he had a feeling tonight would be his lucky night. He rubbed his hands enthusiastically as he contemplated the nice little pile of cash that would soon be his.
"Pssst."
He glanced around the balcony, but could not find the source. Someone obviously was trying to get his attention.
"Pssssssssssssssssssssttt."
Nigel looked across the open space to see an arm beckoning to him from around a large potted plant. The length alone identified Emily as the owner. He hurried around to her side, attempting to not appear to be in a hurry, which resulted in a rather stiff legged rapid walk. He was sincerely grateful that most people were still gathered in the ballroom below. As he neared the large plant, the same arm grabbed his lapel and yanked him into the foliage.
"Really, Emily, you've been reading much too much Ian Fleming again," he admonished, brushing off the sleeve of his jacket and settling his lapels. He had no desire to appear before Miranda, or anyone else, in a wrinkled jacket. "So why the subterfuge?"
In answer, Emily pointed towards a small group near the main doorway of the ballroom. Nigel suddenly remembered how it felt to have hair atop his head, so high did his eyebrows climb. "My, my, someone came loaded for big game tonight."
"Buggery bollocks! The bloody cow is naked!" Emily hissed.
"She is decently covered," spoke a voice from behind them.
"I believe you mean barely covered," Nigel chided as he turned to smile at Serena, who he had no doubt had quite a bit of influence in the choice of that gown.
The shrug he received dripped Latin nonchalance. "Semantics," Serena waved a hand dismissing his comment. "The essentials are covered. She has a lovely body and flawless skin. Why should she not show it?"
Emily gave her girlfriend a narrow-eyed glare which earned her little more than an arched eyebrow in response.
"I think it's bloody evil of you to continually stack the deck in Nigel's favor," she growled.
"I do not stack it in Nigel's favor; I stack it in Andy's," Serena corrected her.
They all returned their gazes to Andy Sachs who moved around the periphery of the ballroom in a sleek red gown that molded to her curves. The neckline plunged to the tip of her breast bone leaving the inner curves of her breasts just visible.
"She could at least have the decency to sag," Emily groused.
Serena couldn't contain her laughter.
"Andy is barely twenty-seven," she pointed out. "She will be married to an adoring spouse with at least one child before gravity takes notice of her."
Emily sniffed and continued her perusal of Andy's appearance. Though her right side was turned to them, the flash of a bare left leg that ended in a four inch fine strapped sandal was seen with each step. Emily supposed the gown was slit almost to the hip which was entirely unfair as Miranda had never been able to resist looking at Andy's legs. As Andy turned back to speak to someone who had evidently called to her, Emily choked. The dress had no left side. There was a three inch wide strip of bare flesh that ran the length of Andy's body, broken only by tiny gold chains at the hip, waist and side of her breast. The back was little more than a drape of cloth across her hips.
"Our illustrious leader will fall tonight," Nigel predicted, which was the basis of their bet. He was convinced Andy had strong feelings for her ex-boss and for the last six months had been going out of her way to attract Miranda. He though it was only a matter of time before his long time friend fell to the young woman's charms.
"Miranda is made of much sterner stuff than that," Emily corrected, as always adamant in her belief that Miranda would never deign to be with an ex-assistant, no matter how attractive and provocatively dressed. Even if their boss had feelings for Andy which she had to admit seemed more and more likely with each meeting the two had, Emily believed Miranda would never cross that line.
Serena smirked at the two, but remained silent and refused to join in the betting. She believed that the two women had deep-seated feelings for each other and belonged together. For that reason alone, she made sure that Andy received an invitation and a gown for any event that she would not normally attend in the course of her work. Should the event be a working one for her, something Serena had little difficulty finding out, the gown alone would arrive. Each dress exposed more of Andy's body to public perusal. Yet, to Serena's knowledge, she had yet to balk at wearing one. She strode into each event with the confidence of a woman who knew she was shown to her best advantage by the clothing she wore.
As the other two moved around the balcony, keeping Andy in sight, Serena followed, amused at both their antics as they moved from plant to pillar, then on to the next plant as they tried to remain inconspicuous, and the constant squabbling that went on between them. For herself, she was more interested in seeing Miranda's expression when she had her first view of Andy tonight. The atmosphere of the room shifted and the noise level dropped to murmurs letting Serena know she had minimal time left to wait.
Miranda stood at the top of the stairs in a black and white off the shoulder gown. Her first step showed a flash of bare leg to halfway up her thigh. She descended slowly, fingertips gliding down the railing. There was a sharp thread of sensuality running through her normally languid movements tonight. It seemed to move out from her in a wave and through the crowd as men settled their jackets and straightened ties while women stood a bit straighter, shoulders back. Serena' slips curled in amusement as she saw Andy knock back the glass of champagne she held and exchange if for another clearly affected by her first sight of Miranda that night.
"It would seem our dear Six isn't the only one on the hunt tonight," Nigel quipped and chuckled at Emily's responding snarl.
"Yes," Serena agreed. "But who is the lion and who is the lamb?"
As Serena watched closely, she could tell Miranda was scanning the crowd. It was subtly done and only those used to her daily mannerisms would detect the perusal. Serena knew the moment Miranda spotted Andy. The smooth elegant stride hesitated for a second as if brought up short before resuming Miranda's naturally graceful movements.
Serena smirked and, accepting a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, and silently toasted her choice of dress for Andy. It was the first time Miranda had been visibly affected by the younger woman. Nigel practically chortled, while Emily growled her displeasure. Serena knew she would have a great deal of making up to do once they reached home tonight, but she didn't see that as a drawback. Making up with Emily was one of her favorite things to do, and she got a great deal of practice with the volatile redhead. Serena lifted her glass in another silent toast, this time to the way her night would end. Hopefully, Miranda and Andy's would end similarly and she could add a bit of celebrating to her later activities.
Miranda paused at the top of the stairs, regally surveying the gathering spread out below her. Before she took the first step, she could sense Andréa's presence in the room. She was eager to see what the young woman had donned as the bait in their little game of seduction. So far Miranda had been able to resist the pull provided by a beautiful young woman with an amazing body well displayed. She was the first to admit their last encounter had been a near thing.
The last six months had proved an ever intensifying challenge to Miranda. She had previously seen Andréa at certain events fulfilling some role for the unimpressive rag she wrote for. Miranda had never acknowledged Andréa's presence. After all, she was Miranda Priestly and Andréa was simply a highly forgettable second assistant who had the temerity to walk out on Miranda during the most important week of her professional year. The young woman deserved nothing short of full and swift retribution. Why Miranda had chosen not to mete out just punishment was a reality she resolved not to examine. Now she questioned the intelligence of her choice.
Every event she attended seemed also to be graced with the presence of one Andréa Sachs looking increasingly more desirable and inflaming with each meeting, though Miranda supposed meeting was a loose term as she never actually spoke to the young siren. Instead, they circled each other like two prizefighters, each waiting for the other to show an exploitable weakness. So far it was a silent battle fought at a distance.
Andréa circled the edges, working the periphery of the room to obtain the quotes she needed when working, and making light conversation to network when not. Not that she ever had to move far. The crowd of men and quite a few women that engulfed Andréa grew in reverse proportion to the yardage in her gown. Miranda, for her part, held court just left of center, varying her position just sufficiently to keep the young woman in her sites at all times. With each passing event, she found her anger increasing in perfect ratio to the fawning crowd around her Andréa, as her libido escalated proportional to the amount of skin Andréa had on display.
As she took her first steps to descend down the grand staircase, Miranda's eyes sought out Andréa. There, that flash of red, that was her. As if by silent command, the mass of bodies which had turned to watch Miranda's descent, parted slightly to reveal … Miranda froze for a split second, resuming her elegant movements before all but the most knowing became aware. What that small hesitation suggested, the widening of eyes and subtle increase in respiration verified. Miranda's vision narrowed in on the long expanse of bare skin before snapping to observe the lustful gazes of more than one person that even her own entrance couldn't deviate. Glad she had opted to dispense with some frivolous male as escort, Miranda growled low in her throat. Enough! This ended tonight before the world was permitted to look upon more of what should be reserved only for her.
Eyes flashing fire and challenge, Miranda reached the bottom of the stairs and moved to her chosen spot for the night. Banking the fire for the moment, she plastered on a fake smile and greeted those worthy of her notice while keeping Andréa firmly in her sights.
Andy kept one eye on the staircase even as she chatted with several acquaintances. This wasn't a working night for her and she never really understood why she came to these events without being assigned to cover them. When the first dress had arrived a few days prior to attending a charity ball she was assigned to cover, she'd assumed it was from Nigel though she'd only had limited contact with him since leaving Runway. She covered such events periodically since she was one of the few people on staff who had suitable attire hanging in her closet.
With no return address on the box and the courier service refusing to give out that information, she was stuck with the dress whether she wore it or not. She would never openly admit it, but she was thrilled each time because it put her in the same room with the one person she knew she would never forget. Though they never spoke or acknowledged each other in any way, Andy was always aware of Miranda's presence, knowing exactly when the woman arrived and when she left just by the change in the way the atmosphere felt on Andy's skin.
Two weeks later another dress had arrived this time accompanied by an invitation. It wasn't the type of event the Mirror usually covered so Andy really had no reason to go, but something about the whole mystery intrigued her. The fact that Miranda was sure to be there, if only for a short appearance, had little to do with her decision. No, she wasn't attending to see Miranda, but to find out who her mysterious benefactor, or benefactress, was. Once or twice she'd idly wondered if it was Miranda herself, but Andy quickly pushed that thought away. Surely, if Miranda were sending the gowns and invitations, she would have said something by now. Each successive dress was just a bit more risqué than its predecessor, a fact that Andy found intriguing. None were indecent; she would have balked at wearing any that were, they merely put her body on display in progressively more blatant manners.
At the fifth such outing, after a half hour spent in boring conversation with a man who spent the entire time talking to her cleavage which was generously revealed by the black strapless she wore, Andy had decided that would be the last time she spent her evening in this way. That decision vanished a few moments later when she realized that no matter where Andy moved to in the vast room, Miranda was facing her. Deciding to test her theory, Andy moved behind several tall men and used them for cover to work her way several feet from where she had just been standing. She struck up a conversation with someone she had interacted with during her tenure at Runway while keeping one eye on Miranda. Sure enough in less than a minute Miranda had subtly shifted so that Andy was once again in Miranda's direct line of sight over the shoulder of whomever she happened to be conversing with at the moment.
Thrilled with the knowledge she had obtained, for the first time Andy left prior to Miranda's exit. She needed time to think about what she had just learned and what it might mean. After a restless night, she'd convinced herself that it was merely a fluke. Miranda really hadn't been keeping an eye on her, or had she? When the next dress arrived several days later, Andy decided to put her theory to a real test. At the subsequent gala she stayed on the move, pausing here and there to speak with people in passing, each time checking on Miranda only to find the woman consistently orienting herself in Andy's direction. So it had begun. Andy had Miranda's attention and though she had not previously known she wanted it, she now basked in the knowledge. Having Miranda's eyes on her throughout the evening made her feel special, somehow sexier and more intriguing.
As if she wore a sign above her head that said "You should want me because Miranda looks at me," others began to notice and were drawn to the beautiful young woman who practically oozed sex appeal and vivaciousness. Andy's circle of acquaintances began to grow and along with the increased attention came tips on stories once an admirer learned of her occupation. Andy never moved beyond the periphery of the room, didn't stray into the center where the power players mixed. That was Miranda's territory and Andy didn't encroach. No, Andy stayed amongst those who greased the wheels for the movers and shakers. She found that though these assistants and middle executives were hesitant to offer up their own immediate superiors to gain her favor, they had no such qualms about opening the closets of someone else's and dragging skeletons into the light. Subsequently, Andy broke quite a few headline grabbing stories by diligently researching the tidbits she gleaned. With her by-line appearing with increasing frequency on page one, the sharks that prowled the center of each event's sea of humanity began to take notice and were drawn to the edges in search of the provocative beauty that seemed to always be in the know. So Andy's sphere of influence widened, her quotes came from higher and higher sources which thrilled her editor and increased her stature at The Mirror.
Through it all, Andy kept a close eye on Miranda. She smiled at her and flirted in a light manner that could as easily be seen as an overture of friendship as it could a deliberate acknowledgement of interest. Though she never once got an answering response from Miranda, Andy noticed that as her circle of admirers grew Miranda's plastic smile became increasingly false and brittle. That knowing sent tingles down Andy's spine. Whatever else Miranda Priestly might be, she wasn't indifferent to one Andy Sachs.
Andy hugged that knowledge to her and began a campaign to get Miranda to acknowledge her openly. She didn't expect Miranda to leave the center, but rather, Andy wanted to be invited in. So she flirted and flaunted and wore each dress with an air of entitlement that only a woman confident in her beauty and appeal could manage. She put as much strain on Miranda's willpower as she could manage. Andy almost thought she had Miranda at the last event, but just when she thought she saw signs of Miranda breaking, a faint tremor to her hands, a certain tightness around her mouth, the woman left abruptly.
Opening the box on tonight's dress, Andy knew she had her. Tonight Andy would stalk Miranda with every weapon available in her arsenal and as Miranda began her descent of the grand staircase, Andy made sure she would get the full effect of tonight's gown when Miranda's gaze turned her way as it always did. Avidly watching, Andy caught the slight hesitation and felt the sear of that blue fire. Oh, yes, tonight Andy Sachs would have what she wanted.
Serena watched from the balcony as the two combatants began their dance. Behind her, the ongoing squabble between Emily and Nigel created a dull backdrop to her thoughts. Miranda was, as usual, holding court left of center, graciously accepting the obeisance of an adoring public, while Andy, for once, held her ground surrounded by lascivious fawners. They each sparkled in their own way. Andy, bright and vivacious, was a flame in red, searing sexuality drawing moths to be singed. Miranda, cool and regal in her signature black, spread a web of subtle sensuality that burned equally deadly in its iciness.
At previous events, Andy had migrated around the edges, always staying on the move, but tonight she remained stationary. Like Miranda, Andy had staked a piece of ground and now worked the group that formed around her, smiling and flirting lightly. Never once did she allow anyone to become too close, keeping them all at arm's length figuratively, if not literally. Serena wanted to applaud her efforts. If Miranda felt as Serena thought she did, the constant display of people attempting to entice what she wanted for herself would incense Miranda.
Moving her gaze to the older woman, Serena's smile became a bit more smug. Miranda looked stiff enough to break, but would she break tonight? Serena believed so, Nigel was betting so, but only time would tell. At the moment, they were more like two lionesses watching each other across the Savanna. Each waiting for the other to make a move, show a weakness, so that she could pounce.
As Serena observed, a tall, elegant woman of perhaps Miranda's age leaned in to speak softly in Andy's left ear. Andy inclined her head and lifted her left hand, fingertips resting lightly on the woman's jaw to steady them both and better hear what was being said. It was the spark that set fire to the grasslands. From her vantage point, Serena could see Miranda's previously undaunted will shatter. A space around Miranda cleared as pure rage seemed to emanate from her in waves. Serena heard Emily groan and Nigel chortle as Miranda spoke sharply to the assistant at her left shoulder.
"Pay up," Serena advised Emily.
"It's not over yet," Emily snapped.
"No," Serena appeared to agree. "It is just beginning. The lion has roared. Now we see if she faces another of her kind or the lamb."
Nigel and Emily exchanged a confused glance before turning back to the unfolding drama below.
"Andréa Sachs. Bring her to me," Miranda ordered, not bothering to glance at her first assistant.
"Yes, Miranda," came the murmured reply. Without hesitation the young woman began to filter her way through the crowd moving unerringly towards Andy. Everyone at Runway knew who Andrea Sachs was, the one who walked away and lived to continue working in the publishing industry. Andy had achieved hallowed status in the quiet halls of the magazine. The newest Emily bit her lip and breathed a silent prayer that Ms. Sachs was in a cooperative mood tonight, since it was apparent that Miranda was not.
Andy's lips quirked infinitesimally as, from the corner of her eye, she watched the quaking assistant draw nearer. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of sending the woman back to Miranda with a refusal, but her own memories of just what that would mean for the current Emily wiped the thought away almost before it formed. No, Andy would be content knowing that Miranda had been the first to break, though Andy wasn't entirely sure that being summoned as if before royalty by a minion was actually breaking. It was much more likely that Miranda had simply tired of their little game and having declared herself the winner, was now intent on claiming her prize. Andy had no doubt that Miranda would inflict her own unique brand of punishment for being forced to make the first move. She couldn't halt the shiver that coursed down her spine at the thought of what form that punishment might take.
Gaze fastened on the searing blue eyes across the room, Andy didn't acknowledge the Emily's murmured, "Miranda wants you." Andy bit her lip to keep from laughing. Oh, yes, I do believe she does. She quietly made her excuses and followed as the Emily made a way for them through the crowd. As she drew closer, Andy could feel her body responding to the fire in Miranda's gaze. For the first time she felt a small quake of fear. She has spent months just out of range, teasing Miranda unmercifully. Now she would be well within reach of Miranda's touch, and her claws. Andy found she suddenly felt less like the hunter and more like the prey. Her musings came to an abrupt halt as she found herself standing less than three feet from the woman Morpheus had crowned to rule her dreams.
They stood, gazes locked. Those around them showed the remarkable good sense to stay well back from two women. A subtle gesture sent the Emily away giving them an island of privacy among the throng.
"Miranda," Andy was the first to break the silence though she offered no more than that.
"Andréa," Miranda replied with a regal nod in greeting. She, too, left it at the single spoken word.
It then became a silent battle of wills, each following the old business adage that the first to speak loses. Their silence drew questioning glances from the people around them, though no one was foolish enough to interrupt. Miranda knew she could hold the pose indefinitely and had many times, while Andy fought to keep from fidgeting. Time stretched along with Andy's nerve. She began to feel that if she didn't move, didn't speak, she would explode right there in the middle of the ballroom.
"Your Emily said you wanted me." Andy barely managed to control a wince at the husky purr in her voice. A strong opening was good. Delivering it in a voice laden with desire, not so much.
"Did she?" Miranda murmured, her voice so soft that Andy took an instinctive step forward to hear her. "How premonitory of her."
Andy lifted 2 glasses from a passing tray. Offering one to Miranda, she took a fortifying sip of her own. Did Miranda just admit she wants me? Andy nonsensically thought of changing her name to Daniel, since she was obviously in the lion's den. And I'm definitely going to get eaten. A shiver ran down her spine as she caught her own double entendre. She had been so fixated on catching Miranda; she hadn't stopped to think about what she would do with her once she'd caught her. Andy's eyes darted nervously around and she thought of and discarded one response after another. Miranda's voice at last cut across her thoughts.
"As they say, Andréa, if you can't run with the big girls…" Her voice trailed off as she handed off her glass to a passing waiter and nodded to the Emily that hovered just out of hearing range. "Who knows perhaps this opportunity will come round again."
Something in Miranda's voice told Andy that it never would. This would be her one and only chance. Miranda had stated her immediate intentions in as clear a manner as she ever would. If Andy didn't step up now, she would have blown all the months of nerve wrecking effort. No, that wasn't going to happen.
"I'd like to see you home," she blurted.
Miranda appraised her, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.
"But then you'd have that long subway ride home."
"Maybe not," Andy responded taking a half step forward putting her well within Miranda's personal space.
"You surprise me, Andréa." Miranda smirked at the sudden courage being displayed. "Pleasantly so," she added.
"Then let me escort you home," Andy pushed, her heart pounding wildly. "I think we could elevate that 'pleasant' several levels."
"Several?" Miranda questioned, giving every appearance of thinking it over, though Andy knew Miranda had made her decision with lightning swiftness the moment Andy took that small step.
"At least." Andy stroked a finger down the outer edge of Miranda's hand from wrist to fingertip, the move subtle and ethereally light.
Miranda visibly shivered and spun on her four inch Louboutin heel to stride away. Andy's heart dropped as she thought she'd blown it by touching Miranda in public. That is, until Miranda paused and glanced back over her shoulder, eyes once again blazing.
"Are you coming, Andréa?" Not waiting for an answer Miranda continued towards the door.
I have high hopes, Andy thought as she hurried after Miranda unable to hide her anticipatory grin.
Far above, Serena smiled in satisfactions. "The lion leads the lamb to slaughter. Pay the man, Emily. I will make it up to you, my love."
Somewhat mollified, Emily handed Nigel a wad of cash. "This payback will be expensive," she advised Serena.
"But of course," Serena agreed. "The best ones always are." Slipping her arm into Emily's, she led her lover to the nearest staircase, leaving Nigel behind happily counting his winnings.
Within moments they were in Miranda's car being driving to her townhouse, the lights of the city alternately illuminating and shadowing Miranda's face. Not wanting the mood to lessen, Andy reached over and began to trace a finger over Miranda's palm. She ghosted over the soft skin in intricate patterns, her eyes locked on Miranda's face. Andy's touch was one second gossamer and the next deliberate.
Miranda bit her lip, her throat muscles working. After a moment, she shifted subtly. Andy smiled and began to include each of Miranda's fingers in her gentle stroking, alternating randomly between them but always coming back to the palm. She felt Miranda's shiver through the contact with her hand. She continued the movements watching Miranda's face avidly when it was illuminated by the passing street lights, the slight opening of her mouth as she began to pant softly, the chewing of her bottom lip, the random opening and closing of her eyes fascinated Andy. She couldn't stop her own expression of shock when Miranda suddenly moaned and grabbed at her fingers as a strong shudder shook her body. Did Miranda just…? The glazed, slightly unfocused look in Miranda's eyes as she turned them on Andy gave her the answer. She did! Holy crap!
Further musings were interrupted as the car drew to a stop in front of the townhouse.
"I won't need you further tonight, Roy," Miranda spoke in a slightly husky tone as she opened her own door and pulled Andy from the car by their clasped hands. Andy barely had time to close the door before she found herself dragged across the sidewalk and up the steps. There was a brief pause as Miranda unlocked the door and tugged her inside. Andy looked back just in time to see Roy's incredulous stare before he drove away. You aren't the only one freaking out here, buddy, was the last thought Andy had before finding herself crushed against the closed door by Miranda's body as her lips were claimed in a searing kiss.
After kissing Andy until they were both struggling for breath, Miranda once again pulled her along by the hand. She didn't hesitate as she headed up the stair to her bedroom. That little stunt in the car needed repaying and as everyone knew, paybacks were a bitch and payday was here. With the twins away at their father's for the weekend, she didn't bother with closing or locking the door. She merely swung Andy through the door and onto the bed, following her down until she had Andréa exactly where she had wanted her for months, beneath her on a bed.
"I want you," Miranda growled. "And I'm going to have you…right…now." Once again she crushed her mouth to Andy's, sliding their lips together and plundering Andy's mouth with her tongue. She ran her hand greedily over the open side of Andy's dress, relishing the silky feel of skin against her fingers.
"Miranda," Andy gasped, unsure what else to say.
"You wore this for me, didn't you?" Miranda demanded. At Andy's nod of assent, she continued. "You've been dressing for me for months, haven't you? Each gown more tempting than the last." Her hands continued to slide over skin and cloth, molding Andy's body with her palms, stroking with her fingertips. "Would you have kept going Andréa? Revealing more and more of your body until only the essentials were covered and the entire room was drooling over you, all save me? What would you have done then? Shown up naked?" Miranda practically hissed her displeasure at the thought of other people looking at her Andréa, wanting what Miranda considered to be hers.
"You wouldn't-have-allowed that," Andy got out brokenly, moaning as Miranda's hands brushed over her breasts.
"No, I wouldn't have," Miranda agreed fiercely. "Why ever did you allow that fashion wannabe so close to you tonight?" The woman, while wearing couture, had been clad ridiculously for her age.
Andy chuckled and spoke between gasps and moans. "Maybe I have-a taste- for- older women."
Miranda shifted so that she might capture Andy's gaze with her own. "There is only one older woman you will have any type of taste for. For that matter, only one woman at all. Do you understand me, Andréa?"
Such a display of possessiveness would have infuriated Andy coming from anyone else, but hadn't she played to that very aspect of Miranda's nature, as much as to her libido? All the flirting with the people around her had been designed to incite Miranda's jealousy as much as the flirting directly with Miranda had been to inflame her desire.
"Yes, Miranda," Andy teased, only to gasp as a thumb flicked over her nipple in punishment.
"Now that that's settled, take off this wretched dress before I destroy it, which would be a great pity as you look wonderful in it," Miranda ordered.
Laughing softly Andy slid from the bed and lifted the dress off over her head, tossing it negligently over a chair as she kicked off her sandals. She stood naked before Miranda, hands resting lightly on her hips.
"I believe you're a bit over dressed for this party," she chided gently.
Miranda simply nodded dumbly. Her widened eyes turned a deep smoky gray as they slid over Andy's frame from toe to head and back to toe.
"Oh, yes, God is definitely the ultimate designer," Miranda mumbled as if to herself. "You're exquisite," she spoke aloud to Andy.
Andy couldn't help the surge of warmth that rushed through her heart, nor stop the words that fell from her lips. "I'm yours, if you want me."
Miranda searched the clear brown eyes that met her own, looking for any trace of deceit. Finding none, she answered firmly. "I most definitely want you. Come here, Andréa."
Andy stepped forward gladly until she came to stand between Miranda's knees. She looked down at the white head that rested on her stomach, face pressed into her skin. Her hand trembled as she reached to stroke the glossy strands. There had been no words of love spoken between them, though she loved Miranda dearly. Andy supposed that being possessed by her love was enough for now. The words would come in time, or knowing Miranda, they might never, but Andy knew her well enough to know the feelings were there in a small way already. For now, it was sufficient to know she was desired by this incredible woman.
"We need to get that dress off you, Miranda," Andy spoke softly.
Inhaling deeply, Miranda could smell how aroused her Andréa was and as she wanted nothing more to than to taste and fulfill that need, she stood and reached for the zip at the side of her gown. It took only a moment to slide it down her body and step lightly out of it. She toed off her heels and reached behind to unhook her bra only to find her hands stopped by Andy's own.
"I want to," Andy breathed, stepping in close so her bare nipples dragged over the tops of Miranda's breasts.
Miranda shivered at the contact, wondering if she had ever before felt anything as erotic. Nodding her acquiescence regally, she fleetingly thought that the night would hold many firsts before the dawn crept in towing a new day behind it. One she planned to wake up to while holding this delicious creature in her arms.
Andy reached around, being careful not to actually touch Miranda and flipped the hooks open with one hand, earning herself a smirk and an arched brow from Miranda. Andy blushed as she slid the garment down Miranda's arms, her mouth watering at the first glimpse of Miranda's breasts. They were much smaller than Andy's, but still firm and high, defying gravity even now. They wouldn't dare sag. Her lips quirked at the thought though she kept her head averted so Miranda could not see. If anyone could exert that much control over their own body, it was Miranda. Kneeling, Andy rolled one thigh high down and held for Miranda to remove her foot before turning to the other to repeat the action. From her place at Miranda's feet Andy looked up the length of her body to meet that same smoky look, which now showed flickers of flame. She rose to her feet without attempting to remove Miranda's last garment. Miranda retaining that last article of clothing seemed somehow appropriate.
"Get on the bed, Andréa."
Miranda's voice had dropped to a deep sultry whisper and Andy shivered in response. She sat down and slid back until she rested on her elbows, legs slightly akimbo. Andy swallowed against a rush of desire as Miranda pushed the last of her clothes down toned legs and moved over her.
"Open your legs, Darling."
Andy rushed to comply, whimpering as Miranda lowered herself between her splayed limbs. She pulled her knees up slightly increasing the contact between their centers. Soft lips captured hers, nibbling and sucking. Andy groaned, opening her mouth to give herself over to Miranda.
Miranda didn't hesitate to take advantage, sliding her tongue deep and tangling with Andy's. Her hands traced up Andy's sides to grasp her breasts, though she had no hope of being able to claim one in a single palm. She captured the hardening nipple between her fingers and rolled it back and forth, reveling in the sound of Andy's moans. Sliding down, she transferred her lips to sucking the nipple into her mouth, nipping at it gently. Miranda smiled around the mouthful, as Andy pressed her hips upwards seeking more contact. More than willing to oblige, Miranda set a smooth, slow rhythm with her hips, pressing herself into Andy with each thrust. Her own arousal increased with each "Yes, oh, yes, Miranda" that spilled from Andy's kiss swollen lips. She found Andy's open enthusiasm as stimulating as the actual act they were performing together. Every moan, every gasp, every passion filled word, brought Miranda closer to the edge. Her movements increased, grinding into Andy as Miranda added her own moans to the symphony of sounds that filled her bedroom.
"Come with me. Come with me, Andréa," she instructed as her back arched pressing her firmly into Andy's core and she cried out her own release even as Andy's joined her. Miranda collapsed down onto Andy only to find herself wrapped tight in long arms and legs, held tight to the sated body beneath her. She pressed soft kisses to Andy's neck as they both lay recovering.
At last, Andy stirred, threading slender fingers into white silk and tugging gently to bring Miranda's face up so she would meet her gaze.
"Tell me this won't be the only time," Andy asked, her voice soft and tremulous.
"We are just beginning, Andréa," Miranda assured her. "Having you once has only made me want you again."
"And beyond tonight?"
"Beyond tonight is tomorrow. We shall simply have to see what it brings." It was all the promise Miranda was ready to make.
Andy nodded and smiled. It was enough, for now.
"So if you want me again, what's stopping you?" she teased.
Miranda graced her with her best La Priestly glare. "Nothing stops me, Andréa. I get what I want. I should think you'd know that by now."
Andy's laugh was pure joy. "I do, Miranda. It's your most attractive trait. At least, to me it is."
"So I take it you're no longer afraid of me," Miranda teased.
"Oh, I still get a chill when you go all La Priestly," Andy confessed with a salacious grin. "It just has a different effect on me now."
"Indeed," Miranda commented as she slid to the side while bringing her hand down and slipping it between them. She stroked once, twice as Andy moaned and bit her bottom lip. "Then by all means let's explore this new response of yours." She pushed two fingers deep into Andy's core and muffled the small scream she elicited with her lips.
The kiss continued, a slow wet sliding of lips and tongues, and Miranda's fingers plunging in and out. Andy's hips rose to meet her thrusts as Miranda grasped the nearest hardened nipple between her fingers and teased it, rolling it back and forth while squeezing it in rhythm with her other hands rapid movements. Andy almost sobbed her release with a screamed, "Miranda!!!" who, upon hearing her named called in such a way, had her own small orgasm.
Miranda gathered Andy into her arms, holding her close. Hands stroking over the long back, she gentled Andy until she came back to herself.
"I could become quite addicted to that," Miranda murmured.
"Mmmm, so could I," was Andy's response, "though I would like to return the favor."
"By all means."
Without further comment, Andy began to slide down Miranda's body, kissing and licking every inch of skin that she found beneath her lips until at last she rested between Miranda's thighs. Andy didn't hesitate, but dove right in, savoring the smell and taste of her lover. She thoroughly explored every fold and crevice with her tongue before driving it into Miranda's core. She brought her thumb up to rub Miranda's clit and she bobbed her head moving her tongue in a strong thrusting motion.
Already more than primed by Andy's earlier responses, Miranda came quickly and explosively, grasping two hands full of long dark hair to hold Andy in place as she rode her face to prolong her orgasm. At last she lay gasping, her body so languid that sleep pulled at the edges of her consciousness. She encouraged Andy up to lie beside her and wrapping her arms around the long body of her lover, Miranda was asleep in moments.
Andy listened to the gentle inhale and exhale as she returned the embrace, allowing it to soothe her until she joined Miranda in rest. She wasn't worried about tomorrow. That Miranda Priestly could fall sleep in her arms told her all she needed to know about the future…for now.
The End