Part 10
The Romance: Part 2
Since the world turned on its axis when they declared their love, Andy has found herself spending much more time with Miranda. Every day they communicate somehow. It's as if the floodgates had opened once Andy sent her first invitation to Miranda. Now it is common for them to email, text, and phone the other on a daily basis. Andy loves it.
With this change, Miranda has become more relaxed, going so far as to crack jokes at the most unexpected times. Andy often is privy to the humor readily apparent in the biography Miranda had created so long ago. Six months ago.
Andy sweeps her gaze across her apartment one more time, wanting the evening to be perfect. The first time Andy made dinner for Miranda at her apartment, it had become a comedy of errors. To Andy 's chagrin Miranda often teases her about that night. But it wasn't her fault. The woman is a menace.
As Andy concentrated on cooking stir fry, Miranda came up from behind to wrap strong arms around her. Andy immediately thought of a few days earlier when they were in virtually the same position. Andy shivered and flushed, embarrassed by how easily Miranda affected her.
"No need to be embarrassed," Miranda said as her hold tightened. "I loved doing that to you, and I promise we will do it again. Soon." Miranda kissed Andy's neck, causing Andy to rest her head on Miranda's shoulder as hands slid up her torso, cupping her breasts. Andy got lost in the feelings of lips caressing her neck, teeth nibbling her earlobe, and fingers rolling her nipples. Andy felt herself toeing the edge, ready to explode as the memory of their encounter in Miranda's office overlaid the stimulation she was receiving at that moment.
That's when the fire alarm went off. After a few moments, the shrill whistle broke through Andy's haze of desire. Looking down at the wok, Andy stared in disbelief at the smoking ruin formerly known as their meal. "Shit!" Andy exclaimed as she removed the pan from the stove and dumped it into the sink. Finding a chair, Andy climbed up to silence the alarm.
"Well," Miranda drawled. "Not much of a cook, are you?" she teased.
"I was distracted," Andy huffed, hands on her hips.
The night had only become progressively worse. Or funnier, depending on one's point of view.
Much later, Andy covered Miranda's body with her own on the sofa, kissing Miranda passionately. Needing to feel more skin, Andy blindly moved her hands to support herself on either side of Miranda's body. Only her left hand found no purchase, toppling her off the furniture with a whoosh.
Lying on the floor a bit dazed, Andy heard rich laughter ring throughout the room. Opening her eyes and leaning against her elbows, Andy felt her eyebrows fly off her forehead as she witnessed Miranda laughing so hard that she held her arms across her stomach.
"Ouch," Andy said grouchily. Talk about killing the mood. Miranda only laughed harder.
"Oh, Andrea, really," Miranda gasped. Andy plunked back onto the floor, thoroughly put out. But she couldn't help smiling, too. She'd never heard Miranda laugh like that. It was addictive.
Just those two incidents would have been memorable enough but, no. Andy needed to perform the trifecta of embarrassing events. Not one to ever give up on a challenge, Andy topped herself with one more regrettably unforgettable act that night. Flustered by the ruined dinner and interrupted lovemaking, Andy had begun to sulk.
They had settled down to work while listening to the silky strands of jazz. Andy tried to concentrate, but the night just wasn't progressing the way she'd imagined.
That's when she got a bright idea. "Wanna play strip poker?"
"Strip poker?" Miranda enunciated slowly. A predatory smile covered Miranda's face. "Are you sure, Andrea?" She slowly trailed her eyes over Andy.
Okay, well, sure, Andy was wearing a dress while Miranda's pant suit bespoke more bargaining chips, but Andy used to play poker every week for years. How bad could it be?
Less than an hour later Andy was able to answer that question. She could hardly look at that smirking face as she removed her panties—her last betting piece. Miranda remained fully clothed.
Well, shit.
Hearing Miranda clear her throat, Andy pouted as she dared to look up. "You are adorable," Miranda murmured. Andy pressed her lips together. She didn't want to feel better. The entire night had been a bust. "It is during such times I find myself falling more in love with you. Let me prove it to you," Miranda offered.
Perhaps the night hasn't been ruined.
It turned out the night only became better. Much better.
Andy sings under her breath as she removes dinner from the oven. She's cooked meals for Miranda several times over the last couple of months and twice for Caroline and Cassidy. Tonight, though, it's just the two of them.
Most of their meals are at Miranda's home—quite the change from eating at restaurants. Once they began texting and calling each other, though, it seemed natural to share more meals together in a private setting. On many occasions Andy has arrived at Miranda's home directly after work. After eating, they tend to settle into the den where Andy writes her articles and Miranda completes Runway work. It is all rather homey and comfortable. When their workload is light, they push off work until the Book arrives, preferring to use the time to kiss.
And what a kisser Miranda is.
Never before has Andy spent hours merely making out. Every part of Miranda intoxicates Andy. She is drunk on Miranda. Amazingly, Miranda seems to be just as enthralled.
Thinking back, Andy can pinpoint the first night they indulged in a kissing session. About six weeks ago, Andy arrived at Miranda's house after a hard day at work. Her interviews had been wastes of her time, her feet were aching from pounding the pavement, and she really didn't feel up to anything more than eating and sleeping.
Miranda has always been able to read Andy like an open book, and that night proved to be no exception.
They ate in relative silence. It soothed Andy's frazzled nerves. If she hadn't felt the absolute need to see Miranda, to feel those addictive arms encircling her for at least a few moments, she would have canceled altogether. Instead Andy's mind kept rehashing her crappy day as she picked at her food. Normally she loved this meal—chicken piccata. That night, though, nothing interested her. Certainly not the idea of working on an article that was proving to be a dead-end.
Looking up from her plate, Andy saw concerned eyes gazing at her. Andy tried to smile, but she feared it turned out to be more of a grimace. Pressing her lips together, Andy sighed. "Maybe I should go. I'm not very good company tonight," Andy said quietly.
"Nonsense. I'm glad you are here," Miranda replied firmly. Andy nodded and looked back at her plate.
A hand covered hers, causing Andy to look up once more as Miranda pulled her out of the chair. "Am I correct in assuming you are done eating?" Miranda asked as she led Andy into the den.
"Yes. I'm sorry, Miranda," Andy began.
"No apologies. Everyone has bad days, even you." Gently pushing Andy onto the couch and removing Andy's shoes, Miranda sat down next to her. "Do you care to discuss what's bothering you?" Miranda asked as she ran fingers through Andy's hair.
"Not really," Andy sighed. What could she say? Her story sucked, everyone she interviewed sucked, her life sucked? Andy felt strong fingers massaging her skull and closed her eyes in bliss.
"All right. Why don't you try to put it from your mind then?" Miranda suggested.
"I'll try," Andy muttered, thinking that if Miranda continued what she was doing, she just might be able to.
"I'll help you," Miranda whispered before delivering light kisses along Andy's jaw. Andy sank into the couch as her body melted under such loving ministrations. One delicate hand stroked her cheek while the other talented hand continued to rub away the stress trapped at the top of her head. Andy sighed again.
Pliant lips found hers, lightly brushing once, twice, before barely pressing against Andy's lips. As if they had all the time in the world, Miranda moved her lips slowly, mesmerizing Andy. She swallowed reflexively as fingers pulled her closer and Miranda's hot mouth breathed life back into her. Opening her own mouth, Andy moaned her pleasure. Breathing through her nose, Andy touched her tongue to Miranda's and nearly smiled as Miranda shivered her response.
Their tongues frolicked joyfully for endless minutes, hours, days, while Miranda's fingers continued to massage and worship Andy's head. Although a dull throbbing between Andy's thighs had begun as soon as their lips had met, Miranda took care not to escalate their kisses into a precursor for making love. Andy read Miranda's intentions clearly and loved the woman even more for such treatment. Whenever their kisses became too probing, too passionate, Miranda would pull back and begin the process of gentle kissing once again.
Taking Miranda's cues, Andy explored Miranda's mouth thoroughly. Andy became lost in the texture of her tongue, the pressure of her lips, the taste of her breath. She reveled in the openness Miranda demonstrated.
Much later Andy couldn't help but wonder how she'd come to be lying on her back with Miranda resting on top of her. Running her fingers through Miranda's iconic hair, Andy grinned. Maybe life didn't suck after all. "Thank you," Andy whispered. She felt Miranda kiss the hollow of her throat in answer.
Andy grins at the memory. They've had three other make-out sessions, and Andy cherishes them all.
Hearing the door open, Andy smiles before turning around. "Perfect timing," Andy greets Miranda. She quirks an eyebrow haughtily as her eyes rove over Andy's attire. Andy stands very still for the inspection. She is wearing True Religion jeans and a Donna Karan blouse. Andy watches Miranda's eyes darken in appreciation. Andy shivers as goose bumps break out on her arms. Miranda's hold on her no longer surprises Andy. Nor does her visceral reaction to merely a look.
"Darling," Miranda says. Sometimes Andy wonders how Miranda is able to say so much with one word. Like now. That one word drips affection and attraction, relief and desire. That coupled with the look causes Andy to feel weak and powerful.
"What concoction are you springing on me tonight?" Miranda asks as she covers the space between them. Before she can answer, Andy finds luscious lips demanding her attention. "Mmm," Miranda purrs. Andy feels arms wrapping around her waist as she automatically returns the kiss.
Breaking the kiss reluctantly, Andy steps back and shoots a stern look at Miranda. "Oh no you don't. I spent hours slaving over a hot stove for you," Andy admonishes cheekily. She really hasn't, but based on this greeting, Andy recognizes she will want to eat to keep up with Miranda's libido. "Sit down, sweetheart," Andy invites as she begins to dish out their meal.
Miranda's smirk lets Andy know she isn't insulted. They eat their halibut in relative silence while holding each other's gazes and brushing fingers every so often. Andy feels warmth suffuse her. She loves this woman so much. Although they do not voice such feelings often, Andy knows that their lack of verbal expression does not mean it isn't present. Andy can feel the sexual tension building as they finish their meal. Dabbing her lips daintily, Miranda rounds the table and pulls Andy to her. "I've waited long enough," Andy hears Miranda mutter just as their lips crash together. Andy moans her agreement.
Without quite knowing how it has occurred, Andy finds herself naked and gasping against the counter while Miranda feasts on her breasts. Miranda is ravenous. She chews on a nipple as her hands knead Andy's ass. "I thought of you all day," Miranda murmurs as she pulls on the abused nub. Fingers skate across Andy's crease causing her to buck. "Sometimes I can hardly stop myself from kidnapping you from that rag and having my way with you for hours. And hours."
The thought that Miranda might want her that much thrills Andy. Shuddering, Andy swings Miranda around and lifts her onto the counter. Quickly Andy rips Miranda's blouse over her head and removes the lacy bra, intent on devouring her. Miranda's sounds, the low moans and breathless whimpers, urge Andy to continue. Even as she licks and sucks a breast, Andy's hands go to work on Miranda's slacks. Distractedly, Andy hears shoes clunk onto the floor as she slides the pants over toned legs.
"God, you are so sexy," Andy mumbles as she focuses on soaked panties. Miranda instinctively widens her legs as she attempts to pull Andy closer. Andy resists. "No." Andy leans down to lick Miranda's clitoris through the semitransparent panties. Andy hears a dull thunk as Miranda cants her pelvis toward Andy's mouth. Mouthing the entire area, Andy grasps Miranda's legs and pulls up slightly so she fits tightly. Restless hands travel across her back as Andy continues to lick and suck Miranda through the soaked fabric. "You are irresistible."
"Please, please," Andy hears Miranda beg. She will not relent, though. Andy has thought about this all day, too. As she continues to slowly torture Miranda, one hand dips down to circle Miranda's opening through those wet panties, thrusting just enough to make Miranda's ramblings become more urgent. "Andrea, what are you doing to me? I need you, darling," she says breathlessly. Andy tweaks one breast mercilessly in response. She loves how Miranda thrusts against her face, her fingers, how her body arches toward her. Miranda's hands hold Andy's head tightly against Miranda's center as she attempts to rub herself more firmly against Andy's mouth.
Finally relenting, Andy removes the panties and firmly enters Miranda with three fingers as she begins sucking rhythmically on the swollen clitoris. Miranda shrieks as her orgasm overtakes her. Not slowing her ministrations, Andy continues to thrust into Miranda as she pins the older woman's hips down against the counter. Miranda's head is tipped backward, leaning against the upper cabinets as she shrieks again, louder, and meets each of Andy's thrusts forcefully. "Andrea!" she yells as her body rides wave after wave until her body melts into a slightly twitching mess.
Andy gazes at Miranda, at the hand thrown over her eyes, sweat-drenched hair, and glistening body. God, she's beautiful. "You are gorgeous," Andy says in awe. She feels Miranda take a deep breath as she watches Miranda remove her hand to reveal an intense stare. She looks hungry. Very hungry. Andy helps Miranda down from the counter.
Miranda frames Andy's face with shaking hands as she continues to stare. "What you do to me, Andrea, how you make me feel." Miranda shakes her head, seeming bewildered. Andy watches her closely. Andy is still getting used to being the aggressor when they have sex. She is a bit surprised to find that she loves being in control, loves stripping Miranda of her formidable presence. During such times, Andy feels they are evenly matched.
Andy smiles softly. "I love you, Miranda. Thank you for trusting me." Andy leans in to kiss receptive lips. Andy hums contentedly as hands travel down her arms to her waist. The kiss is slow, intense. When it ends, Andy feels like swooning. Without a word Miranda leads her to the bed where she loves Andy so painstakingly, Andy feels well cherished. Lying together, Andy's mind sluggishly reviews the day as Miranda's fingers, stroking through her hair, work their magic.
"Have you arranged for vacation time at the end of the month?" Miranda asks out of nowhere.
"Why would I do that?" Andy asks, receiving raised eyebrows and a glare.
"Don't be ridiculous. You have had my schedule for months," Miranda says. She sits up against the headboard and stares at Andy incredulously.
"Was I asleep when you asked me to go on vacation with you?" Andy questions.
"What are you implying?" Miranda responds bitingly.
"I'm not implying anything," Andy says as she sits up, too. "I'm saying that this is the first time you've mentioned anything about our going on vacation together." Andy crosses her arms. Really, how the hell is she supposed to know what Miranda wants?
"If you were so confused, why didn't you ask?"
"Why didn't you?" Andy shoots back.
After a loaded silence, Miranda looks away. Andy notices stained cheeks and feels vindicated. "I am asking you now," Miranda says in an even voice.
Although Andy recognizes this is as close as she'll get to Miranda admitting she may have made a mistake, Andy is feeling contrary. "What if I don't have enough vacation time left?" Miranda's head swings around. Andy sees the critical look and shrinks back.
"When did you go on vacation?" Miranda demands.
"In January," Andy admits. "To visit my parents." Under the weight of Miranda's stare, Andy expands. "It was just for a couple of days."
"Why is it you never speak of them?" Miranda asks.
Andy doesn't want to talk about her parents. She shrugs. "So where is this vacation I was supposed to pencil in?" Andy says brightly. Miranda stares hard at her. Andy tries to maintain the stare without blinking. She blinks.
"Andrea," Miranda says in a low voice.
The younger woman sighs. Right. Of course, she won't let this go. "We haven't had the best relationship. It's been rocky for awhile." Andy looks out the window. She really doesn't want to discuss this.
"What is awhile?" Miranda asks. Andy shakes her head and crosses her arms. She feels a hand slide over her forearm and worm inward. Andy relents, allowing Miranda to take her hand.
"Years," Andy sighs. "We had a falling out right after I left Runway."
"Right after you left me," Miranda corrects.
"Miranda," Andy says, feeling tired. She tries to pull her hand away, but Miranda does not permit it.
"Why did you have a falling out?" Miranda continues.
"I was not myself. They thought once I left Runway I would be the old Andy again. Instead Nate and I broke up for good, I began working at the Mirror, and I was, I don't know, despondent. I just didn't have the energy to pretend everything was fine." Andy begins to trace an imaginary pattern on the sheet. "I was unhappy. Lonely. I missed— Life was not unfolding as I wished."
"And they noticed?" Miranda prods.
Andy snorts. "Oh, yes. They noticed. And they figured out what was really troubling me. They said some horrible things, some hurtful, unforgivable things. So, I stopped talking to them for a couple of years. If it weren't for Natalie, she's my older sister, getting married, I still might not be talking to them." Andy glances at Miranda noting her contemplative look. "Our relationship has never recovered."
Lost in the memories, Andy starts when Miranda says, "What was the falling out about?" Andy shakes her head. She doesn't want to tell Miranda it was about her. "Andrea?" Miranda asks. Andy sets her jaw and tucks her head. Gentle fingers lift her chin, turning her face toward the older woman. "Tell me," Miranda urges softly.
"It was about you," Andy admits.
Miranda gasps, shock clearly showing on her face. "Me?"
"I missed you." Andy doesn't know how else to explain. She had missed Miranda desperately.
"Why didn't you contact me?"
"After leaving you in Paris?" Andy responds dubiously. "Didn't we have this conversation about six months ago?" Andy cracks a smile. Really, they were hopeless. It's a wonder they ever got together.
Miranda glares, but there's little heat attached. In direct contrast to the look, Miranda's voice is velvety. "Come on vacation with me, Andrea."
"Okay." Silence. "Where?" The glare Andy receives is not faked. Andy grins. "How am I supposed to pack?" Andy asks as she tilts her head and bats her eyes.
With a theatrical sigh, Miranda waves her hand negligently as she says, "The weather is comparable to here. Bring a bathing suit. And a passport. That's all you'll get, so don't try."
"Right." Andy nods docilely. Miranda rolls her eyes.
