Thank you all so so so much for your support with this. I honestly would not be still writing this without it, so keep it coming!
I'm sorry this took an age to complete, my life has been insane recently and I've just not had time. 9,300 words makes up for that though, right? ;)
Enjoy!
Song for this chapter: Someone's Looking At You - The Boomtown Rats
"Bernie… Bernie…"
Serena whimpers into Bernie's mouth as she deepens the kiss, their tongues touching and her body moving against Serena's in a smooth rhythm. The other woman moans, forcing herself to pull back, but is unable to resist long and dived back down for another taste of her friend's lips. She remembers herself, and manages to pull back for a moment.
"Bernie, wait."
Bernie freezes, watching Serena's face with a frown as she listens intently.
BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.
"That's my phone," Serena groans, making to sit up. Bernie grabs her wrist lazily, tugging her back down.
"Leave it," she murmurs against her lips, one hand moving to rest in the groove of her waist. Serena grins, kissing her back sweetly, before standing up with a roll of her eyes. Bernie's huffs, running a hand through her hair to collect herself. Her lips sting and her throats feels dry, and part of her wonders if she'll be able to move her jaw in the morning. But it's worth it. God, it's worth it. Just to feel Serena Campbell's lips on hers…
"Hello, Jason. Are you alright?" Bernie's head snaps around at Serena's words, her brow furrowing. She sits up quickly, wincing as her back cracks, and stretches as Serena continues.
"Yes, I know I'm not at home, Jason… Well, I did tell you not to wait up. I'm not usually back before… You what?" She looks at her watch, before widening her eyes at Bernie, her mouth falling open. "I'm very sorry, Jason. I must have lost track of time… Well you can be assured that I am safe and sound… Yes, of course… See you soon. Goodnight."
"He alright?" Bernie asks over a yawn. Serena raises her eyebrows at her, pointing at her watch exaggeratedly.
"It's 3AM!" She exclaims, throwing her arms out in emphasis. Bernie's mouth opens in surprise, but quickly curls into a smirk.
"Well, they do say time flies when you're having fun…"
Shaking her head fondly, Serena clears her throat at Bernie to make some room for her on the chaise longue. She shuffles up, resting her arm along the back of it for Serena to nestle into.
"You're very self-assured there," she teases, resting against Bernie's arm just far away enough that she can look her in the eye. "Some might even say cocky."
Bernie laughs heartily, her cheeks rosy. "Are you saying I'm mistaken? I could always stop." She places a quick kiss on Serena's jawline for emphasis. Serena shivers, shaking her head.
"Now let's not be too hasty there."
Again Bernie laughs, tightening her arm around Serena's shoulder and tugging her towards her until her head is nestled against her neck.
"You do make me laugh," she smiles, her eyes on the ceiling.
"I have noticed," Serena replies dryly, unconsciously turning her body to press herself closer against her friend. Bernie shakes her head.
"Not like that," she continues, her thumb absentmindedly drawing circles on Serena's upper arm. "I mean… We enjoy one another's company, don't we? We get on well."
"You don't say," Serena murmurs, and Bernie smiles to herself fondly.
"Yes, I'm thinking in a little more innocent manner."
"I don't think there's much innocent about this, Bernie."
Hesitating for a moment, Bernie contemplates what she is trying to say, before sighing. "Yeah. I suppose you're right." They lay in silence for a few minutes, and Bernie is almost convinced that Serena has dozed off until she speaks.
"Are you… Were you wondering if we should see more of one another? Outside of work?" Serena asks tentatively. Bernie bites her lip, before nodding, glad that Serena can't see her face.
"Yeah," she replies, her voice coming out a little more throaty than she would have liked. "I mean, we used to spend so much time together. Well, before I started working here we did." Serena nods her agreement. "You said earlier about… about dropping you a text, or knocking on your door. I mean… would that really be okay?" She feels Serena still in her arms, before leaning up on one arm, a soft smile on her lips.
"Believe me, Bernie, when I say that there's nothing I would like more."
Their eyes meet for several moments, warm and searching, until Serena's gaze drifts down to Bernie's lips.
"Well…" She clears her throat nervously. "Other than… than for you to kiss me again."
Bernie rolls her eyes theatrically. "Only if I have to," she smirks, lifting her head up to take Serena's bottom lip between her teeth. Serena grins as she feels their mouths pressing together, deep languid kisses that make her head spin and her hips roll softly against her friend as she pulls her on top of her. Placing a hand either side of Bernie's shoulders to steady herself, Serena's kisses become hungrier and more biting, her tongue sliding against the other woman's as she writhes and moans beneath her. She rocks her hips firmly against Bernie's, slipping a thigh between her legs and eliciting the most delicious of whimpers.
"Ugh, I really have to go," she pants against her collar eventually, provoking a groan from the woman beneath her.
"Are you trying to kill me?" She asks, turning her head and pressing her lips to Serena's forehead, kissing down her nose to her lips again; a plea for her to stay.
But Serena knows that she needs to get back. She allows Bernie to kiss her for a few moments longer before pulling away with a sigh. Patting her hair down, she moves to get her coat while Bernie watches her with hungry eyes.
"So, I'll text you," she tells her, a playful glint in her eye. Serena nods.
"Please do." She shrugs on her coat.
"And maybe one day I'll just… knock on your door?" She didn't mean it to come out as a question, but she makes up for the break in her bravado by flashing Serena a devilish smirk.
"You're very welcome to," she laughs at her, quickly checking her phone before picking up her bag. "Jason thinks you're great. I'm sure he'd love to have you round for tea one night."
"Really?" Bernie asks, surprised.
"Of course," Serena replies, frowning at her. "Of course he does."
Bernie stares at her for a couple of moments, before nodding slowly. "Good."
Narrowing her eyes, Serena scrutinises her for a few more moments. Then her phone buzzes again in her pocket - a message from Jason listing the impact of late nights on one's health - and she sighs heavily.
"I really do need to get going." She nods at where Bernie's clothes are piled on the floor, and the other woman jumps up with a grin.
"Incapable of walking yourself out, darling?" Her grin widens, watching Serena's eyes leave her face as she stands there brazenly, stark naked but for her stilettos and hold ups. When Serena doesn't answer for a while, she clears her throat, Serena blinking up at her with a look that makes her laugh out loud. "Give me a minute to get dressed."
"Do you really have to?" Serena teases. Bernie laughs again.
"Of course not. I could start treating patients in the buff too if you like."
"Well, it would save a lot of money on laundry," Serena retorts, watching as she steps back into her bodysuit. "Our mortality figures, however…"
"Yes, I dare say some of the older gentlemen on the ward might find it a little too much."
"I wasn't talking about them."
Their eyes meet, and both burst into giggles.
"I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now," Bernie poses, stepping forward and taking both of Serena's hands in hers. Serena eyes her curiously.
"I don't think I could ever get used to this, Bernie."
The other woman considers her for a moment, a faint smile on her lips. "Is that a good thing?" She asks, swinging their joined hands about between them.
Serena gives them a squeeze. "Of course it is," she murmurs. After a small silence, their eyes still meeting, takes a breath. "Have I ever told you you're beautiful?" She manages to keep her voice steady, to mask how vulnerable her words made her feel. Bernie blushes, but maintains eye contact.
"You've said a lot of things in this room," she counters, with half a smile. "I'm pretty sure that was in there somewhere."
"I don't say it enough." She swallows. "I don't think I ever could."
Bernie is blushing furiously now, and she can't help but look away, down at their joined hands, and so misses how Serena's mouth opens again, as if to say something more, before faltering at the last moment.
"Come on, then," she says instead, dropping Bernie's hands and gesturing to her clothes. "If you really insist on wearing them."
Flashing her a quick grin, Bernie moves to get dressed, feeling Serena's gaze on her as she does so and slowing a little so as to tease her just that extra couple of seconds longer. They walk down to the exit in comfortable silence, fingertips brushing on occasion but never quite interlinking.
"So, I'll text you."
"Yes, text me."
They stand facing one another, both unsure of quite what to do next. Usually, they would just say goodbye, or on occasion Bernie has placed a quick kiss of Serena's cheek, but tonight, she feels, the dynamic has shifted slightly. She doesn't know quite what has happened. Serena had kissed her; they had kissed each other. But does that mean that it is right to now? Or is it, like most things, something that is kept confined to the club?
She decides the former, leans in for a kiss.
And Serena turns her cheek.
"Goodnight," she beams at her, seemingly oblivious to Bernie's confused blink as she pulls back.
"Yes… Yes, goodnight."
She stares after her friend as she walks away before shaking her head, and returning to work.
::
It takes a couple of days for Bernie to shake it off, Serena turning her head away outside of the club.
She knows she's overthinking it; it was a kiss goodbye, so it was reasonable that Serena expect it to be on the cheek. But Bernie couldn't help but feel that they had turned a corner, in the club that night. They had kissed, and kissed and kissed and kissed. For the first time. And then Serena had told her that she wanted to see more of her away from the club. Surely that meant…?
Part of her is adamant that she would have asked her, would have confronted her about everything the next night that she came to the club, were it not for Jason being stuck down with Scarlet Fever and Serena having to stay home to look after him. So now it's been more than a week since they were at the club together, and Bernie thinks she might be starving. Her skin itches with the desire to be near her friend, to feel her body against hers, and she thinks with a smirk that the could be at risk of developing repetitive strain injury, she's had to take care of herself so much. And now it's Friday; she only has to wait two more nights for Serena to return to the club. Jason is more or less recovered now, and Serena is back at work. If only she could distract herself…
She huffs a sigh, casting a quick glance up at the speaker of the mortality figures meeting that they have been forced to attend. The new section of the trauma unit has only been open four days now and she would much rather be elbow-deep in someone's chest cavity right now, but Serena had begged her not to leave her to suffer it alone and Bernie, as always, couldn't bring herself to say no to her. So here they are, sat at opposite ends of a large meeting table, listening to some boring old chap in a terribly undersized suit with absolutely no healthcare experience past his MMR jab drone on about how they must be doing their jobs wrong if not everyone under the age of ninety walks out of the place alive and kicking.
Rolling her eyes for what seems like the hundredth time, she discreetly pulls her phone out of her pocket, leaning back a little so as to see it underneath the table and replying to some text messages. One from Cam, a couple from an old army friend, one about her shifts in the club next week. She taps out a reply that she will do her usual - Sunday to Wednesday, now, in line with the days that Serena chooses to frequent the club - and hits send. For a few moments she just stares at the screen, bored out of her tree and seriously considering banging her head off the table if the man doesn't shut up soon, but then remembers she has an extremely important task that she could be using this time figuring out how to complete: texting Serena.
She pulls up her draft folder with a grimace, scrolling down all of her previous attempts over the past few days. Hi Serena… Hey, Serena… Hi, it's me… Hello, your stripper friend here… Serena, would you… Is it terribly forward of me to… Do you… Are you free… What are you… I…
Shaking her head at herself, she swipes delete on all of them, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. She takes a deep breath, focussing herself, trying to think about what it really is she is trying to say to Serena here. On the most basic level, she is trying to make conversation. It's silly really; she finds it easy enough to make conversation with her in real life. Surely it's just the fact that she's having to think so hard about what to say, rather than the words just flowing out, that is making it so difficult.
She puts her phone back in her pocket with a sigh, resting her chin on her hand and staring blankly at the speaker, who is now attempting with little success to show some statistics on the overhead projector. Her eyelids are just beginning to flutter closed when she feels her phone buzz with a new text.
Do I what? S
Bernie frowns, tapping out her reply.
What do you what? B
She looks up at Serena in confusion, but the other woman's head in bent down, tapping out another message.
I don't know what. You asked me. S
Asked you what? B
Their eyes meet over the table, both of them looking equally bewildered with one another.
You just sent me a text saying 'do you'. S
Bernie's mouth opens slightly, and she looks in her sent folder to find that she had in fact accidentally pressed send rather than delete on that draft message, thanks her lucky stars it wasn't a more compromising one.
Oh. Whoops. My mistake. B
You've no business texting in such an important meeting anyway ;P S
Looking up again, Bernie sees Serena has turned back to the screen, but the tightness of her jaw and the curl of her lips tells her that this conversation is far from over.
You started it. B
She pretends not to be watching Serena as she reads the text, replies.
I did not, you did! S
How so? B
When you texted me 'do you'. S
That was an accident. B
You still texted me first. S
Yeah but you're the one that continued it. In a meeting. B
So did you. S
They exchange a smirk over the table.
How old are you? B
Younger than you are, darling ;) S
Bernie bites her lip in amusement.
Very petty. One might infer you're a little insecure about your age. B
She sees the outraged shaking of Serena's head and grins.
Absolutely not. I'm growing old gracefully, thank you very much. S
Disgracefully, more like. B
They exchange another conspiring glance.
Definitely. I blame you ;) S
Whatever can you mean? B
They gaze at one another for a long moment, until they are snapped out of it by the speaker swearing at the screen as he tries to figure out how to go back a slide.
Do you think this is ever going to end? B
I'm quite enjoying it actually. I might ask him to reiterate points six and seven. S
Those were the longest ones! B
Were they? S
Are you sure you're actually enjoying the presentation, or just revelling in my suffering? B
Probably the latter ;) S
How terribly sadistic of you. B
Quite. S
Bernie hesitates, then decides she's bored enough to push the boundaries a bit.
Is that your thing, then? B
She looks across the table and smirks as she sees the colour rising in Serena's cheeks.
Is this an appropriate workplace conversation? S
Bernie bites her lip.
That wasn't a no… B
No, it wasn't. S
Her breath hitches, and she shifts in her seat a little, something that, she realises when she looks up, isn't missed by Serena.
Why the interest? S
It's Bernie's turn to blush now, and she recoils, her heart hammering as she decides that she's done far too much boundary-pushing for one day.
Just curious. B
She sets her phone on the table, her eyes turning back to the speaker, though she can feel Serena's on her. It's a good ten minutes before her phone buzzes again.
Jason and I are having takeaway for supper tonight. You're very welcome to join if you'd like? S
Bernie looks up at her friend, who meets her gaze with a nervous smile. She grins back.
I'd be delighted. B
::
Oddly, Serena finds she doesn't feel too nervous at the prospect of Bernie coming over. Perhaps it's just that she hasn't had enough time to get herself worked up about it. After the meeting had ended both of them had been in surgery for the remainder of the day, and by the time Serena was out Bernie had already gone home. So, in between the rush home and Jason wittering on in her ear whilst she was trying to get ready about some war documentary he couldn't wait to hear Bernie's take on, she didn't really have much time to worry about how they might get on.
About an hour before Bernie is due to arrive Serena calls up to order their food. Luckily, she had managed to catch Bernie to ask what she wanted before they had both been dragged off to theatre. She then focuses on setting the table and trying to look like she hadn't spent the entire time since getting home perfecting her makeup.
The door rings at 8pm sharp, and Serena opens it to see Bernie standing there with a bottle of rather expensive-looking Shiraz in each hand and their pizzas balanced dangerously on one arm.
"Dinner is served," she announces with a half smile. Serena stares at her for a moment before taking the pizza boxes from her, looking around outside for the driver.
"Where's the driver gone?" She asks, as Bernie closes the door behind herself, tucking one of the bottles under her arm.
"Back to the shop, I'd guess," Bernie replies, toeing off her shoes and pushing them next to where Serena and Jason's are gathered. Serena frowns at her.
"But I haven't paid," she starts, then sighs in realisation. "Bernie, really—"
"My treat," Bernie interrupts, holding up a hand that clearly tells her that this is not up for discussion.
Serena purses her lips and rolls her eyes, before allowing herself to take in the blonde's appearance. She definitely appears to have made an effort, though her hair is slightly windswept from the chilly autumn breeze. Serena thinks she even might be wearing lipstick, though, true to Bernie's style, this is so subtle that it might just be the way the hallway light is shining on her. She wants to tell her how utterly gorgeous she looks, and suddenly is unsure of how she should be greeting her friend. In the club, Bernie would often place a kiss on her cheek, or take her hand. But here, it seems - and Serena knows - they are playing by a different set of rules. Their dalliance at the club is locked away, and now they are just two friends having dinner together. Just friends.
If only it were that easy.
Serena know's she can't act on the way that she is feeling, not here, but that doesn't stop her heart from pounding like she's about to go into arrest, doesn't stop the shakiness of her breaths or the trembling of her fingers. Words failing her, she leads Bernie into the kitchen, shouting up to Jason that their food has arrived on the way, and pulls out a chair for her guest.
"Always such a gent," Bernie winks at her, handing Serena the bottles of wine before sitting down on the proffered chair.
"Oh, behave," Serena knocks her on the back of her head with her arm, and Bernie chuckles in that infuriating was she does when Serena rises to her teasing. She opens her mouth to reply, but is quickly silence as Jason announces his entry.
"Hello, Bernie. You're early."
She frowns, looks at her watch. "Was I not supposed to arrive at eight?"
Jason sits down in his chair carefully. "Yes, but you're always late to everything else. Considering how late you usually are for work, I estimated you to arrive at at least twenty past eight."
Raising an eyebrow, Bernie turns around to Serena, who is watching her with laughter in her eyes.
"He does have a point. You are very rarely on time."
"Every day this week," Jason interjects. Bernie sits back, sighing theatrically.
"If I'd have known I was coming for a lecture…"
"Oh be quiet and eat your weird pizza." Serena nudges her with her arm again before plating up their pizzas and sitting down, eyeing Bernie's ham and pineapple with curiosity.
"Are you going to eat your own or just stare at mine?" Bernie asks after a moment, raising an eyebrow. Serena jumps slightly, then picks up a slice of her own.
"I'm eating mine, thank you," she nods pointedly, and Bernie laughs at her before shovelling in another mouthful.
After that, the night seems to flow quite naturally. Serena asks Jason how his day was, and he goes off on some elaborate explanation of the mating cycle of a particular rare bird he had discovered, much to Serena's amusement and Bernie's fascination. Then he decides to quiz Bernie on the different birds she may have encountered in Afghanistan, and by the time Jason decides he would like to go and watch one of his recorded episodes of Pointless, Serena realises she hasn't spoken for more than half an hour.
"I'll clear up, go sit down," Serena insists as Jason leaves the kitchen and Bernie starts to pile up their plates.
"It'll be quicker if we both do it." Bernie pops one of Jason's abandoned crusts into her mouth before lifting the plates to the sink.
"You do realise there's some slices left of your own?" Serena tells her, loading up the first plate into the dishwasher.
"Waste not, want not," Bernie retorts, her words muffled slightly by her chewing. "Anyway, looked like you more wanted mine than I did. You've been starting at my plate all night."
Serena shakes her head. "Quite the opposite. I was wondering how on earth you can eat such a thing?" Bernie frowns at her questioningly. "Pineapple on pizza," Serena emphasises.
"Have you not tried it?" Bernie replies, smirking. "I guarantee you'd like it. It's not as bad as you think."
"I don't need to try it," Serena scoffs. Bernie laughs, taking one of the spare slices.
"Come on, you might like it!" She lifts it to Serena's mouth, and she turns her head in disgust, though her lips are curled upwards in a grin, and a laugh bursts out of her as Bernie continues wafting the pizza in front of her face.
"You're really not selling it," Serena tells her, and exaggeratedly purses her lips shut, a hint of challenge glittering in her eyes. Bernie laughs too, steps closer, crowds her against the kitchen counter in a way that makes her hold her breath. It briefly crosses her mind how natural this feels, having Bernie in her house; they feel like a family. As she catches Bernie's eye, she bites her lip, struggling to contain the burst of exhilaration running through her. It strikes her that she's so happy. Never before, she thinks, has she felt such contentment. Even though she can't tell Bernie how she feels, just having her here, like this, with that ridiculously smug grin on her face, is worth the world.
That isn't to say that she's given up hope of more.
Bernie is pressed close to her now, so much so that their arms touch, and Serena, after a moment's hesitation, reaches up to grasp Bernie's wrist, pushing the pizza away from her face a little. They're not in the club now, Serena realises, and so she makes a mental note to allow herself to touch Bernie a little more, to allow herself that contact. There are no house rules any more, just her own judgement governs her actions.
Bernie seems to pause slightly at the feeling of Serena's cool fingers on her wrist. Then she lifts her free hand to rest on Serena's waist, anchoring herself to her, that same playful warmth in her eye as moments ago as she gently pushes the slice back up to Serena's lips. The other woman purses her lips tighter, then opens them slightly, just wide enough to take a small bite.
It's not disgusting, but it's unpleasant enough to make Serena wince as she chews, and Bernie honks out a laugh.
"Now you're just being melodramatic," she teases. Serena forces it down, shaking her head.
"I don't know what I was expecting, but that really was something else," she half chokes.
"Well, I think it's delicious." She takes a large mouthful, and Serena smiles at her fondly, her hand leaving Bernie's wrist to rest on her hip. They stay there for a few moments, enjoying their casual embrace, neither wanting to break the contact between them. Serena shivers slightly as she feels Bernie's thumb gently brushing her waist, and mirrors this movement with her own hand on Bernie's hip, her stomach alive with butterflies and resisting the urge to press herself flush against her friend, to bury her face in her neck, to slip a thigh between hers…
"You know, I'm really happy you're here," Serena murmurs, trying with all her energy to keep her eyes from Bernie's lips. Bernie's face softens, unconsciously pulling Serena closer.
"Even with my clothes on?" She jokes, with a wink, and Serena rolls her eyes.
"Yes, even with your clothes on." She pauses, biting the insides of her cheeks. "I like spending time with you."
For a few moments, Bernie seems taken aback by this, as she always does whenever Serena expresses any positive feelings towards her. Then she sighs, her eyes bright.
"I like spending time with you too," she says, then grins. "In fact, I'd even go as far as to say I love it."
Serena beams at her. "I love it too."
Inside, her mind is in overdrive, both with the gravity of what it is they've just said, and with the fact that she has just been presented with the perfect opportunity to kiss her. She gazes deep into Bernie's eyes, questioning her, questioning herself. What is it that she really wants from this woman? She knows she's sexually attracted to her, knows she's in love with her. But does she want it like this? It's the first time they've spent an evening together at home, or anywhere outside of the club, in months. It feels rushed, and Serena's heart twinges with fear of ruining things too soon.
But now Bernie is staring at her lips. Serena can feel her breath on her cheek, can smell the sweetness of the pineapple and tomato sauce on her breath, and suddenly it's the most delicious taste in the world. And the way Bernie looks at her… God, if that's not the most erotic thing she's ever encountered. Her eyes are dark and heavy, her lips reddened and parted and her cheeks slightly flushed. Serena wonders if she's wet, just from standing in a half embrace like this, as Serena knows she is herself. She wants to whisper in Bernie's ear, ask her about it, ask for a taste. Or maybe she could work up the courage to touch her herself, to snake her hand down to the front of Bernie's jeans, watch the look on her face as she dips her fingers inside. Maybe she wouldn't be able to resist, would throw Bernie up onto the kitchen table, whip off her trousers and knickers and eat her until she's sore in the jaw…
She blinks hard, coming back to her senses and chastising herself mentally for how often she manages to allow herself to be distracted like that. Bernie's eyes find hers once more, and Serena lets out a deep breath, relaxing into her touch a little, bringing up a hand to brush Bernie's fringe from her forehead. Bernie, though her gaze is ravenous, seems to be waiting for Serena to make the move here, and whilst Serena wants nothing more than to snog her senseless, this isn't the right time.
With all the tenderness she can manage, she gently turns Bernie's jaw to the side, and places a lingering, longing kiss on her cheek.
When she eventually pulls back, she is amused to see Bernie is blushing. She smirks in satisfaction, pleased with herself despite the fact that she couldn't bring herself to kiss her friend on the lips. Bernie's mouth is twitching in that way it does when she wants to speak, but can't quite get the right words out, and Serena gives her hip a fond squeeze.
"Auntie Serena! Bernie! You're missing Pointless!"
They jerk apart abruptly at the sound of Jason's voice, and suddenly the moment is gone. Dutifully, they clear away the rest of the plates and cutlery before joining Jason in the living room with the remaining bottle of wine. They settle down on the sofa for the rest of the night, their feet just touching as they pretend to be engrossed in the television. However, all either of them can think of is that tiny contact between them, the warmth of one another's skin and how they want nothing more than to be able to lie against one another, to rest in one another's arms, and counting down the minutes until they can be at the club again.
::
Sunday morning, and Serena is burning up. It's now ten days since she last visited the club, and after spending the evening with Bernie on Friday, nothing can seem to satisfy the dull ache between her legs. She knows what she needs. She needs Bernie writhing against her, needs to feel her nipples against her skin through her blouse and her breaths hot in her ear. And she's nearly there - just twelve more hours to go.
She tries to resist touching herself, thinking it would be better if she waited for Bernie, but she wakes up on Sunday morning with her hand already down her knickers and once it's there she can't bring herself to stop, no matter how much she's begging herself to, It takes barely a couple of minutes until she's gasping for breath, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself from crying out. Before she can even think about what she's doing, she brings her fingers to her lips, tasting herself and imagining Bernie's mouth around them, her sex beginning to throb again as she quickly shucks off her knickers and flips over, entering herself with two fingers and imagining Bernie beneath her, imagining bouncing on Bernie's lap in desperation as Bernie curls her fingers inside her, touches her in the exact place that makes her come undone. Maybe she would squirt, she thinks as she bucks her hips into her hand, her face pressed into her pillow as she brings her other hand down to her breasts. Maybe she would come so hard and all over Bernie that she would have to get on her knees in front of her and lick every last drop from her quivering thighs.
With a deeper groan, muffled thankfully by the pillow, she comes again, bucking harder into her hand until she flops down heavily, sweat beading between her shoulder blades.
After another half hour's snooze, she finally manages to drag herself into the shower, this time managing to resist getting herself off a third time as she freshens herself up for the coming night. She gets dressed, and just as she's about to start drying her hair she hears a knock at the door.
Expecting the postman, she rushes down, with no makeup and her hair sticking out in any and all directions, and yanks open the door to see Bernie standing there, clad in all her running gear and panting a little from the exertion.
"Oh, um, you're busy," Bernie stammers, seeing Serena's damp hair and pale face. "I'll speak to you later—"
"No, no," Serena interrupts quickly, patting her hair down. "Come in. Are you alright?"
Bernie nods as she steps through the door. "Yes, sorry. Just you said to knock on your door sometime, and I was going by the end of your road on my run so I thought I would… I never thought to warn you." She chuckles nervously.
"Well, it is only 9am, darling," Serena says, leading them into the kitchen. "I have to say I am usually in bed at this time. Tea or coffee?"
"Tea, please. I always forget that I'm an early riser. Can't get out of the army routine."
Serena smiles as she turns around, leaning against the counter as the kettle boils and gesturing to Bernie to sit down. She does so, and Serena feels a rush of love as she so often does when she's around this woman. She wants to tell her how utterly gorgeous she looks with her windswept hair and tight Lycras, but thinks it inappropriate. Really, she's overcome with joy that Bernie feels comfortable enough to just drop in like this, thinks they've turned a corner.
"So, how's life?" Serena asks, in way of making conversation. The kettle clicks, and she turns back around to pour it as Bernie begins to speak.
"Great, actually. I saw the kids yesterday," she starts. "Things are going well."
She murmurs her thanks as Serena places a steaming mug of tea before her, wrapping her cool fingers around it to warm them up.
"That's good to hear," Serena replies, sitting down herself. "Any news?"
"Cam's thinking of returning to medicine," she tells her, and Serena can hear the subtle excitement in Bernie's voice. "And Charlotte is still clueless but she's happy. She's thinking of going travelling with her friends."
"Ah, that sounds familiar," Serena smiles, taking a sip of her tea. "Elinor is on her third course change at university now."
Bernie sighs. "I think Marcus has a lot to answer for with that one. Always spoilt her rotten whilst I was on tour."
"That sounds familiar too," Serena raises an eyebrow. "Minus the tour."
Bernie grins. "Now there's a thought," she teases, and Serena blushes, knowing that Bernie is imagining her in full battle fatigues and quite enjoying it too.
"Oh shush, you," Serena chastises her, loosening her collar a little as she feels herself getting flushed. She quickly changes the subject, and soon they are chatting away as if this is something they've done for their whole lives. It always amazes Serena how genuine their friendship is. They are both just completely on the same wavelength. And it's this too that holds her back. If she were to confess her feelings, and the relationship didn't work out, would it be really worth losing this?
Bernie stays for well over an hour before announcing that she has some errands to run that afternoon and should really be leaving. Serena walks her to the door, and they stand there unsurely for several moments before Serena leans forward and presses a quick goodbye kiss to Bernie's cheek, her heart hammering in the process. Bernie grins sheepishly in return, a slight blush in her cheeks that makes Serena's knees weak, then jogs off down the driveway with a wave, leaving Serena to count the remaining hours until they meet again at the club tonight.
::
Not for the first time, Serena is shaking as she approaches the club. It's only natural, she thinks. All the longing and the torment inside her is bubbling up, ready to explode. The bouncer clearly recognises her by now, but still takes the time to quickly go over the house rules. Cash up front. Hands off the dancers. She offers him an entirely false grin before wandering inside.
To her faintest surprise, Bernie is already sat waiting for her next to the bar when she walks in. The other woman stands with a warm smile, rushing over and taking her hand.
"Are we not going to get a drink?" Serena asks breathlessly as Bernie begins to lead them towards the stairs to their private room.
"It's all in there," Bernie replies, giving her hand a squeeze. "I thought it would be easier."
Serena just nods her thanks as they continue on their way. Bernie seems quiet, she thinks, but she can't think about that. All she can focus on right now is the throbbing between her legs, the slick dampness that began before she'd even left the house, just at the anticipation of what tonight is to bring.
Outside the room, Bernie pauses as usual to slip the guarding bouncer some cash to leave them alone for their visit, and with a smirk he obliges. Bernie turns around and winks at her, wets her lips, and Serena thinks she might melt at her suggestiveness, her hips twitching involuntarily. Her arm aches with how fast Bernie is pulling her down the corridor, and they're barely through the curtain before she finds herself spun around, pressed hard against the wall as they kiss fierce and sloppy with all the desperation of starved women. Bernie is crowding her space completely, surrounding her as she presses a thigh between Serena's legs, and the other woman hisses at the contact. She can't remember the last time she felt as turned on as this. It's almost as though, rather than quelling an urge, they have opened a whole new floodgate after kissing for the first time. Serena hopes dearly that this never ends.
She feels Bernie's hands pushing her coat from her shoulders, and her heart rate doubles. Is Bernie undressing her? She groans against her lips, pushing herself forward so as to pull her arms out of the fabric and allow it to drop into the floor, whining as her over-sensitised nipples brush against Bernie's front through her blouse. Visions of Bernie removing the rest of her clothes, of her dropping to her knees in front of Serena and slowly undoing her trousers, pushing them down to her knees before ducking forward and licking her into a frenzy, flash through her mind as she bites down on her friend's bottom lip, prompting a sharp gasp that makes her clit twitch.
"Sit down," Bernie pants against her lips, her hands on Serena's waist spinning them round and walking Serena backwards until she falls down onto the chaise longue with a soft thud. Bernie straddles her, begins gyrating, but Serena can't wait.
"Please, Bernie. I need to see you. It's been too long."
Bernie does as she's told, standing and swiftly discarding her bodysuit. Serena, as always, gapes in awe of the other woman's body, her mouth watering with the desire to kiss and taste. She sits back, assuming her usual position of legs apart and hands at her sides, and Bernie takes that as her cue to begin, sauntering up to her and perching on her thigh, tilting Serena's head and moving her lips to her throat. Arching her back, Serena moans, her hips rolling in soft circles, searching for any kind of contact.
"Patience, darling," Bernie whispers against the skin, and Serena moans again, her sex burning between her legs. Bernie kisses upwards to her jaw, to her earlobe, hot breaths tickling her ear in the way Bernie knows makes her weak.
"Oh, God," Serena hums as Bernie turns to straddle her, presses a hard nipple to Serena's lip, teasing. It's not even this that turns Serena on the most, she thinks. It's the scent of Bernie's soft skin, a delightful mix of her perfume be the natural perspiration that clings to her and makes her all the more delicious to Serena. She brushes her lips over the swell of Bernie's breast, nipping every now and then, waiting for Bernie to beg before taking the nipple in her mouth.
"Oh my… God, Serena," she pants, arching her back and running her hands through the other woman's short hair, pulling tight. Serena whimpers, grazing her teeth over Bernie's nipple and rocking her hips up harder, desperate to feel them grinding together.
"Bernie…" Serena gasps as she pulls her head back, her lips moving down to her throat once more. Bernie's hands roam all over Serena's body, and soon she pushes her to lie back on the chaise longue.
Serena practically lights up at this, knowing she's about to get the friction she needs. Her sex is pulsing and throbbing so much it hurts; she's absolutely soaked through and every inch of her is aching for Bernie's touch. Her nipples are painfully sensitive against her bra and her breaths come sharp and rapid. She needs Bernie, is desperate for her, and doesn't know how she could possibly get any hotter. Sweat is beading on her chest and forehead as though she's in a fever, and her groan as Bernie's lips crash back onto hers is as much about the heat all over her as it is the taste of her tongue.
"Mmm, Serena…" Bernie moans against her lips as her hands run up the other woman's sides, making her shiver. She arches her back, their breasts rubbing together as Serena has found to be one of her favourite things about being with another woman. Unconsciously she hooks a leg around Bernie's, pulling their hips together and grinding. Bernie gasps, moves in rhythm, and Serena could swear she can feel Bernie's juices through her trousers.
Bernie's lips leave her's now, instead making their way across Serena's jawline, giving her earlobe a quick nip before moving down her neck, across her collarbones. Bernie's hand is firmly on Serena's breast, palming it through her bra and blouse, and Serena is moaning and gasping and writhing beneath her like she's lost control. Bernie pushes the collar of Serena's blouse aside with the tip of her nose as she leaves a trail of wet kisses there, before moving down the'V' of it to the soft skin between Serena's breasts.
She pauses, her lips still against the skin but her hand stilling. Her fingertips move to Serena's top button, and Serena is holding her breath.
"May I?"
Her voice is gentle and almost incoherent with breathlessness. Serena's hips twitch, her cunt on fire as she nods, her mouth watering and her knees trembling. Her heart feels ready to burst out of her chest, and the noise she makes as she feels the tickle of Bernie's fingertips against her skin as she deftly unbuttons her blouse doesn't even feel as though it comes from her own mouth. She swallows thickly as Bernie pulls the blouse open.
She hesitates then, her finger running a line along the cup of Serena's bra.
"It can be unfastened at the front or the back, if you're wondering," Serena croaks, her voice hoarse. She hears Bernie's sharp intake of breath and sees her head bobbing as she nods, her fingers moving to fumble with the clasp.
"Oh, Serena," Bernie whimpers as she takes in the sight of Serena's breasts for the first time. She dips her head down, taking a nipple between her lips and rolling it on her tongue. Serena arches her back, moans, squeezes her fists so tight she thinks her palms might bleed to restrain herself from tangling her fingers in Bernie's hair and holding her there.
"Bernie… Oh God!" Serena's back arches so high it's a wonder she doesn't break, her mouth hanging open as Bernie moves to the other nipple, sucks hard. Her clit is pulsing and twitching so violently now; she knows she's close. She lifts her hips up to grind against Bernie's again in a silent plea for attention. Bernie knows what she means immediately, whispers something incoherent against her breast before beginning to move her hips.
It doesn't take long. With Bernie's mouth on her breast, Serena barely needs the friction from Bernie's thigh to come harder than she thinks she has in her life, and just the sounds and the taste of Serena beneath her bring Bernie crashing over the edge too.
But she doesn't stop. Bernie maintains her attack on Serena's nipples, her thigh pressing more insistently between her legs.
"You're so fucking sexy, Serena," she wails, moving her lips up to Serena's throat and arching her back so as to rub their breasts together. Serena practically melts, her nipples stinging both from the sensation and her arousal. She's about to bring her lips to Bernie's again, and makes a faint noise of protest when the other woman sits back on her ankles, her thighs spread wide for her to see her glistening sex before her.
"Touch yourself, Serena," Bernie breathes, her own hand now at work between her legs. "Fuck yourself with three fingers. Let me watch you fall apart."
Serena nearly comes in her trousers just at that thought. She unzips them, further than she usually would so that Bernie can see the burgundy fabric of her knickers as she thrusts one hand down them, the other coming to her own breast as she starts to pleasure herself.
"Oh fuck," both pant simultaneously, their hot breaths coming sharp and uneven. Bernie sits back, spreads her legs wider, allows Serena to see everything as her fingers slowly pump in and out of herself. Serena watches the way Bernie's cunt stretches to accommodate them, watches them reappearing and disappearing, and feels a gush in her own hand, knows she's close.
"Bernie, I'm gonna…" She practically shrieks as her orgasm rips through her, her whole body blushing as she does so and leaving her shivering and weak. Bernie watches this, bites her lips so hard she bleeds, shifts and starts bouncing on her fingers until her breaths halt and her eyes water with pleasure.
She flops down next to her friend, her face dangerously close to her nipple. They are silent for a few moments, contemplating. Inside, Serena is screaming. Because that wasn't a dance. Not even close. That was a fuck, she thinks. Yes, there was no genital contact, but still… She thinks back to the previous weeks, sees a pattern, sees that Bernie stopped 'dancing' weeks ago, and she panics.
"Oh, I just remembered," she begins, sitting up sharply. "I promised Jason I'd pick him up from Celia's tonight at midnight." She feigns looking at her watch. "I'm going to be horribly late."
"Serena?" Bernie murmurs, still hazy from her orgasm. "Let him get a taxi. He's quite capable—"
"He asked for me. You know what he's like," Serena insists, fastening her bra and blouse with haste. She stands, a little wobbly, and goes to pick up her discarded jacket. Bernie follows, quickly slipping on her bodysuit and frowning.
"Serena, are you okay?" She asks sincerely. Serena nods in perhaps the least convincing manner possible.
"Absolutely," she replies, with half a smile, already heading for the door. "I just need to get back."
Bernie pauses where she's stood for a few moments, staring at her, before following her out of the door. Serena's heart is racing; she needs time to think, but Bernie isn't letting go so easily.
"Hey." Bernie grabs Serena's arm as they step out of the door to the club. It's raining quite sharply, and they pause to observe it for a moment before turning back to one another.
"I need to go." Serena manages to meet Bernie's eyes, though she suspects her friend sees straight through her facade. She bites the insides of her cheeks, her eyes wandering to an invisible spot on the wall behind Bernie.
"Slow down," Bernie murmurs, taking Serena's cheek in her hand. "What's the matter?"
Her voice is so gentle, and Serena leans into her touch a little, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Nothing," she promises. "I just need to get back—"
"Bollocks," Bernie interrupts. Serena widens her eyes in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
Bernie laughs, her hand coming down to Serena's shoulder and her fringe falling into her eyes.
"I don't believe you."
Serena stares at her, wide eyed, and Bernie meets her gaze, though her fringe hides half of one eye.
What are they doing? Serena can't quite seem to make head nor tail of it. She loves her; that's a fact. But… Only the other night she didn't even want to kiss her friend for fear of moving the relationship too fast, but now she's coming to the thought that perhaps they've been in a sexual relationship for months now. So why keep that confined to the club? Just because Serena is still too nervous to openly admit her feelings, and, if she's honest with herself, is quite comfortable with their relationship they way it is, doesn't see any hurry to ask for more, doesn't mean that they can't have this sexual relationship of sorts and make the most of it. Bernie's lips are her ruin; she could kiss them every minute of every day and not get bored. And she decides, in that moment, that perhaps she will.
She reaches a hand out, brushes Bernie's fringe from her eyes. The other woman is still frowning at her curiously, and she offers her a small smile, her fingertips drifting to her jaw and using it as leverage to press their lips together, again.
It's soft and it's sweet - nowhere near the ravenous kisses they had shared upstairs. She feels Bernie shivering beneath her fingertips, and pulls back.
"You should go inside," Serena tells her with a sigh, brushing a raindrop from Bernie's cheek. But the other woman has fire in her eyes, steps into her space again.
"No."
She kisses Serena again, open mouthed and sloppy as she brings her arms up to her waist. Serena allows herself to wrap her hands around Bernie's shoulders, as they kiss with all the hunger of teenagers but the tenderness of an old age couple. After a minute or two, she works up the courage to slide her fingers into Bernie's hair, letting out a small sigh of excitement as she does.
"Oh, Serena," Bernie moans, nipping at her bottom lip. "That feels so good."
Serena grins into the kiss, beginning to feel a little more confident as she tugs on the other woman's curls.
"Harder."
Breaking the kiss, Serena tightens her hold on Bernie's hair, using it as leverage to expose her neck and place hot, biting kisses there.
"Mmm."
She feels Bernie's hips rocking against hers and pauses, looking up at her friend questioningly. Bernie recognises what she means, nods, and with a giggle grabs Serena's hand and pulls her down the alleyway leading out onto the main road. It's risky, but they are just about obscured by the bins at the other end. Bernie pushes Serena up against the wall, slips a thigh straight between her legs as the other woman knots her fingers in her hair once more.
"I can't believe…" Bernie hums, her lips on Serena's throat. "I'm so wet again." She runs a finger between her legs, beneath her bodysuit, and bucks into her own hand at her touch before lifting it to Serena's lips. She takes it in her mouth with relish, grinding her hips harder against Bernie's. Fuck me. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can't quite say it. So instead she hooks a leg around Bernie's calf, hopes this conveys the message.
It does, and soon Bernie is rutting sharply against her. Her sex burns with the friction of the fabric of her knickers and it's the best feeling in the world. She's panting like she's run a marathon, her moans throaty and deep but for one that comes out as almost a shriek, and Bernie has to cover her lips with hers again to quell the noise.
"You're absolutely… absolutely brilliant," Serena gasps against her friend's lips, her knees beginning to feel weak with the beginning of her orgasm. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."
She feels Bernie smiling against her lips, her hips rutting just that little bit deeper. "Me neither," she whispers. "You are my favourite person in the world. I—"
She halts her movements suddenly, whining and gasping as her orgasm suddenly takes over her and renders her speechless. Serena is close, so close and she thrusts her hand down her trousers, quickly finishing herself off as Bernie's head falls to her shoulder.
For a few moments they simply rest there, panting. Bernie is the first to speak.
"Oh my god," she breathes, a laugh bursting from her. "That was…"
"Amazing," Serena finishes, giggling too. "We really do need to be more care—"
"I don't think so," Bernie interrupts, lifting her head with a devilish grin. "I think quite the opposite."
Their eyes meet for several moments as Serena contemplates, trying to understand what it is that Bernie means. They should do this in the alleyway more often?
"Well…" She says slowly, her eyes moving back down to Bernie's lips. "I can't argue with that."
She dips her head forward again to steal a kiss.
"So I suppose I'll see you tomorrow, then?" Bernie asks. Serena frowns at her for a moment, then remembers her lie about having to fetch Jason.
"Yes, of course," Serena nods quickly, with a grin. "Always."
Bernie beams at her, and she thinks her heart might melt. And tonight, when Bernie goes to kiss her goodnight, Serena doesn't turn her cheek. She kisses her full and lingering on the lips.
"Goodnight." She offers Bernie a wave as she makes her way to the opposite end of the alley, sad that she's leaving so early but equally worn out by the night's events. She needs to think, she knows. But for now all she can concentrate on is Bernie's lips, the memories if them on hers. And when Bernie had opened her blouse… She squeezes her thighs together as she walks.
And in the alleyway… Bernie had said that they shouldn't be so careful, and Serena is still trying to figure out exactly what that meant. She had agreed to it anyway; she thinks there isn't much that Bernie could ask of her that she wouldn't be more than willing to do. But still she wonders… Have they crossed that threshold now? Is this still confined to the club?
With an excited grin, she decides it isn't.
Let me know if you enjoyed! :)