*REUPLOADING THIS STORY*

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

Hope you'll enjoy this chapter! This one is a flashback and would take us all to the time Brittana met (and fell madly in love with each other).

This story is told through Brittany's POV.

SEVEN YEARS AGO

"Britt! What's taking you so long?! They're all there already!" My roommate yelled from the hallway. Soon, I found him poking his head on my bedroom door.

"I can't decide what shoes to wear." I pouted at Kurt as I held two pairs of shoes on both hands.

"The flesh one. It's perfect with your dress. I love it, by the way. They're the same color as your eyes. They make them stand out even more. You look smoking." He winked.

"Thanks Kurtsie!"

"Well hurry up! Courtney has been texting me in the last half hour asking where we are."

"One minute!"

"Alright, I'll be outside." I made a sound of approval and took a swift look at myself at the mirror - baby blue dress that stops about three inches above my knees, flesh-colored pumps; hair down in soft curls at the end - and smiled at my reflection. I made my way out my room and soon, Kurt and I were in the cab headed towards Cielo.

"We are going to get trashed tonight Britty!" Kurt hollered.

"Right! We just graduated!"

"And you just got offered a role in Mama Mia on top of a teaching stint at Shockra Dance Studio! So we're celebrating, okay? Let's go!"

"And you've got a job at Vogue!" I countered and we hugged each other giddily.

We arrived about 20 minutes later with Rachel, Blaine, Mike, Cedes, Courtney, Ashley, Heather, Tina, Jen, and Andrew drinking and hitting the dance floor. Clearly a bit intoxicated by now, Rachel and Cedes moved to hug us as we approach the table. Kurt and Blaine can be seen engaging in a love fest already.

"Girl...you look hot! The guys are drooling!" Cedes teasingly observed.

"I agree Brittany. You definitely look amazing. And need I repeat it? Congratulations! Mama Mia? You so deserve it." Rachel piped in.

"Thank you. You both look wonderful too by the way. But I'm not here to hook up with anyone. We're here to celebrate and have fun! So come on! Drinks on me!"

We drank. We danced. Drank and danced. Again and again until our knees and feet were pleading for some rest.

"Cedes, I'll just go to the bathroom. Come with?" I asked my home girl.

"Nah, I'm good. Come back soon, we need to get our booties back there at the dance floor!'

I chuckled at her words and headed to the restroom. Pushing the door open, my eyes instantly landed on a jean-clad ass by the sink. My eyes trailed on her legs, then back up until I heard someone clear their throat. I looked up and my eyes locked with the woman who's looking at me through the mirror with raised eyebrow.

My breath hitched on my throat.

And why not?

I was looking at the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.

She looked at me intensely and took on my appearance, seemingly appreciative. She walked with a mesmerizing combination of grace and swag and I felt my knees weaken as she came near me.

"The things I'd do with that ass." She rasped behind me and I felt wetness pool on my center. My underwear was definitely getting soiled. I gasped in surprise when I felt something hard poked my butt as she pressed her front on my back. "Real...In case you're wondering." She chuckled sexily to my ear before disappearing.

I had to hold on to lean on the wall to collect my composure (and balance). A group of girls coming in snapped me from my trance and I proceeded at one of the available cubicles. After washing, I took my time to calm myself before getting back to my friends.

"Are you okay Britt? You look flushed." Ashley noted and I felt my cheeks heat up again.

"I'm good. I just had a little too much to drink, I guess." I smiled at her concern. On cue, one of the bartenders came to our table to hand me a drink. "I didn't order -."

"It's from the girl at the bar." He said lowly while nodding towards the bar. I followed his gaze and saw the Latina with her back facing me. A couple of girls approached her, shoving something in both of her back pockets. Once they were gone, she swiveled her stool to face me, glass in hand. Our eyes locked again and my throat dried up.

Again.

She tipped her glass and I absentmindedly mirrored her action. Smirking, she turned back, whispered something to the guys sitting beside her, got up and slowly walked out the club.

Without a backward glance.

Hypnotized, I followed her after whispering some half-baked alibi to Kurt and Mercedes.

Outside, I found her leaning against a black Bentley Mulsanne, right foot against the passenger door and arms crossed on her chest.

She smirked as soon as she saw me and slowly walked towards the driver's seat. I opened the passenger door and got in.

The whole car ride was silent, with both of us communicating through hooded glances and subtle touches whenever she shifted gear. About 15 minutes later, we were at the basement parking of a luxurious apartment building in Upper East Side. She looked at me and we got out of the car at the same time and walked towards the elevator.

She pushed the elevator door open and allowed me to get in before entering and standing behind me. As soon as the lift closed, she attacked my neck with nips and kisses and I pant when I felt her hand inside my dress, tugging my underwear down. I was about to chastise her when the elevator 'dinged', signalling the entry of some more passengers. The hand swiftly disappeared and I felt her lean further back.

An old lady, about in her 60's, came in and instantly smiled at my companion in recognition.

"Good evening Mrs. Prescott." My companion greeted the old lady.

"Hello Santana dear." Mrs. Prescott beamed at 'Santana' before pushing button '15'. "I didn't see you at last night's gala sweetie."

"I was in LA until this morning, Mrs. Prescott. I wanted to be there so bad. You probably rocked that gala." She offered charmingly.

"I told you, call me Laura!"

"I'm sorry. Old habit." She grinned sheepishly. "Late night?"

"Oh, I played poker with the ladies." The elevator chimed once again and Laura waved Santana goodbye.

"Santana huh?" I grinned at her.

"Yeah, babe." She was pressed up against me once again, her hand on my panties.

"Ugh...stop...someone could come in any moment -."

"Guess we should just be quick then, huh?" I groaned when I felt my underwear on my knees.

"Sant- Oh!" I had to hold on to the side bar of the elevator to prevent from tripping as she unceremoniously slid my panties out my heel-clad feet, while she squatted on the floor. The lift dinged once again and I panicked. "Shit!"

The doors opened and I didn't need to look at a mirror to know that I was red as an apple.

"Oh hi Mr. James!" Santana greeted the man, about the same age as Laura, who just entered, nonchalantly.

"Hey San." He pushed button '48' before turning back to her. "Uh. W-What a-are you holding?" He blurted out and I looked at them.

My eyes widened in horror when I saw Santana holding my panties.

"Oh. Mrs. Prescott was rummaging through her bag about a minute ago and this fell out. The beautiful lady over here," She pointed at me and I reddened even more, "saw it, but was too shocked to call for Mrs. Prescott. So I picked it up. I'll just hand it to her tomorrow." She reasoned without batting an eyelash.

"Oh." Mr. James gave my blush a run for its money at that moment.

"Yeah." Silence. "Oh shit! I have an early call tomorrow..." She said pensively. "Mr. James?" She called his name sheepishly.

"Yeah?"

"Would it be alright if you hand this to her instead? I have to be up before breakfast and -." I turned to look at her in shock. Seriously? Mr. James looked appalled. "Oh. Never mind. I'll just call her. Sorry, that was insensitive of me. I mean, you're a guy and - never mind. I'm sorry." She looked at him apologetically.

"It's alright." He cleared his throat and fidgeted in his spot. Thankfully, he reached his floor, saving both of us from further embarrassment. "Good night Santana."

"Goodnight Mr. James."

I looked at her in disbelief, not sure what to say first.

"What?"

"I could not believe you..." I shook my head in incredulity, but couldn't find myself to be pissed at her. It took one look from her and I was a goner.

"And I could not believe how incredibly wet Mrs. Prescott's underwear is."

The lift sounded at the 52nd floor and Santana grabbed me by the wrist before I could retort.

She slid her card on the door and pushed me inside and devoured my mouth like a starved child.

There wasn't an inch of me she didn't touch.

Nor tasted.

Nor penetrated.

God, she felt so good. So hard.

And I, so full.

She kissed me. From the base of my throat to the curve of my waist to the back of my knees to my toenails.

Our bodies moved together.

She took me everywhere. By the door. The living room floor. The couch. The dining table. Against the glass window overlooking the city. The stairs. On her bed.

Her tongue penetrated my moistness. Her mouth sucked mine.

She kissed me until I was achy, breathless and clinging to her.

"You're so beautiful darling." She whispered sweetly in my ear before I passed out.

Three days later, I, Brittany Susan Pierce, moved in with Santana Lopez.