I woke up sweating; the sheets messy and tangled around my legs and my hair plastered to my skin. I was crying and panting, aroused and miserable at the same time. Memories returned instantly, freshly burned into my brain. I was yearning, craving the addictive sensation of having Rosalie touch me. I needed the flash of fire burning along my nerve endings, the silky feel of her skin, the ache between my legs.

My dream was always the same. Rosalie on top of me, her fingers inside me, her plush lips on mine, her tongue in my mouth. The push and pull between us was exquisite. I could feel it and yet it was just a dream. Not real, not real, just a dream. Tears threatened and my eyes burned as cherished memories tugged at my heart.

It had been three weeks since the media frenzy I'd unwittingly started had begun and she was gone. I hadn't held Rosalie in what felt like forever.

"I can't do this." Rosalie's sensual, cultured voice was firm and emotionless. It was our first day back from Aspen and we were in our office attempting to get some work done. At her words I froze and just sat there staring at her. My entire being was braced against the pain I knew was going to come.

I could feel the emptiness beckoning; I would be a rudderless boat - a junkie without any hope of a fix. Pathetic. Alone.

"Don't do this." I whispered. "I'm so sorry this happened but it doesn't have to mean the end of us."

"I can't do this." She repeated earnestly, as her hands trembled and her beautiful eyes filled with tears she refused to shed. "You must still work here, to maintain our cover, if you just left it would seem as if we had something to hide. But, from now on, our relationship is strictly professional."

There it was - the pain I'd been expecting. My heart shattered and I could barely tolerate the agony or understand those hideous words.

No!

"Ro…" but I never got the words out. Rosalie got up and walked away resolutely, her high heels tapping their way out of the room and out of my life.

That memory would haunt me forever. Tears which had threatened fell, and I curled up in a ball on my bed, allowing myself to be swallowed whole by the misery. I needed her, so badly that it was a physical pain. I didn't know how to rid myself of it. I was restless, hurting, inconsolable.

Since the day she'd walked away from me with those poisonous words, we hadn't been alone. We interacted as colleagues, with her as my cold, distant boss. I found it incredibly hard to do my job under these circumstances but I forced myself to perform. I couldn't lose my job and my place in Rosalie's life, however small it may be now.

David barely tolerated me, he blamed me for the media frenzy.

"You did this on purpose, didn't you? Were you trying to force Rosalie to publicly acknowledge her relationship with you?"

"No!" I denied hotly. "I had no intention of forcing Rose to do anything of the kind! My place in her life has always been my number one priority - you know that!"

David looked skeptical and I needed to convince him because he had the power to take Rosalie away from me.

"Outing Rose to the paparazzi was the last thing on my mind that day! I kissed her in the woods stupidly thinking we were alone! I was in love and alive with the possibility of us. I was enchanted with her beauty and the romance of holding her hand in the snow. I truly believed that there was no way any paparazzi could possibly be in the middle of nowhere."

My words were so raw and honest and yet he obviously didn't believe any of it.

He shook his head as if he were disappointed in me, grunted dismissively and left me standing there in the living room without a reply.

.

.

.

The fall out was indeed massive. Rosalie called in the help of her publicists and her manager. They bought the rights to the pictures and took them down wherever possible.

But it was too late. Everyone had seen the pictures and calls, messages and emails flooded in from all directions. Rosalie's children were contacted and they came to see her at the house.

I fell into my work, using it as a blessed distraction from the turmoil my life was in.

Charlotte came around to speak to me. She too had seen the pictures.

"It all makes sense now." She said with a smirk. "I never knew Rosalie was gay."

"She isn't." I said blandly.

Charlotte looked disbelieving. "How did David take it?"

"Look, I really can't discuss this with you." My tone was abrupt and unwelcoming. The pain in my chest hadn't diminished even a little. It was still a gaping wound and Charlotte prying wasn't helping in the slightest.

Despite Rosalie's promise to not send me away I was braced for the final blow.

Dismissal from her life - banishment from the inner circle.

Charlotte sat back and watched me closely. I tried my best to ignore her, holding a tight rein on my emotions, because whenever I thought of leaving I cried and I couldn't let this woman see that.

"I've known Rose since middle school. She's stubborn to a fault and fiercely possessive of the things she loves. I don't believe the statement which was released about how the kiss in those pictures had been misconstrued. I think that you two have been canoodling for quite some time. That's why she's so protective of you. I'm not a fool, I can see you're both miserable now, so my guess is that Rose has put an end to your affair because she's scared."

I continued typing.

"If you want to fix this…whatever it was that you had with her, you need to hit her where it hurts. Make her jealous. She doesn't like to share, that much I know. I really like you, Izzy, and I'd like to see you happy - even if it isn't with me."

I didn't confirm or deny anything she'd said, I merely stopped typing and sent Charlotte a small impersonal smile.

"I really must get this done." I said, gesturing to my laptop.

Charlotte smiled. "Alright. I'm going."

She squeezed my shoulder as she went and I paused for a moment, biting my lip in agitation.

Maybe Charlotte was right. Maybe the only way to get Rosalie back was to make her jealous.

She'd never reacted well to anyone giving me attention.

Anything was better than being ignored.

But right now, I didn't think anything would work. Rose was trying so hard to maintain the perfect heterosexual image in public.

David held her all the time, their hands perpetually intertwined. They kissed a lot. It hurt so much I could barely breathe.

I tried not to notice, but I was hyper aware of everything she did and so I was a front row witness to their shared campaign to let the world know that whatever they'd seen in those pictures didn't affect their marriage in any way.

Rose refused to look at me. Our interactions at work were minimal and uncomfortable.

My heart yearned for everything I'd lost. I was a wreck of my former self.

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.

.

I was briefing Rosalie on the correspondence from our latest client. It was late afternoon and the doors and windows were wide open to allow the soft breeze to blow through the house. It was very hot that week, humidity was off the charts and our small office was stifling. The Santa Ana winds were blowing dry air across the Valley giving very little true relief from the heat. Rosalie's gardener had told me that they were devil winds and that they made people crazy. Or more crazy perhaps, because they amplified whatever you were feeling.

I certainly felt crazy. I was dying a slow and agonising death not being able to touch Rose. My body was a live wire, hungry and demanding. I tried to suppress these feelings but it was so hard. Impossible even.

Rose sat at her desk, the picture of poised, calm perfection, despite the heat. She wore a long, loose burgundy dress which floated around her alluring figure. I was also wearing a dress, a halterneck beach dress in deep blue. I was glad of my much thinner hair, due to the undercut which I'd decided to keep. The length of it was twisted up on top of my heat to stop it sticking to my neck and back.

I was behind Rosalie, while we discussed the account. I leaned in occasionally to point to something on the screen. I could taste her scent on my tongue and I breathed it in greedily, hungry for any part of her, no matter how small.

I studied her profile as I stood there, my gaze eating her up while pretending to concentrate on the task at hand. Her short blond hair was a messy halo around her head, tendrils sticking to the nape of her neck. Her skin glistened subtlety with a fine sheen of sweat, creamy perfection marred by the taunting heat. I longed to lick her, to taste the saltiness on my tongue, mixed with her personal flavour. I loved the taste of Rosalie's skin, the scent and the feel.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I was almost overcome with the desire to touch her. I knew she didn't want me to and that alone acted as a deterrent. I didn't think my heart could handle any more rejection.

Rose asked me a question and I sank to my knees beside her and placed the documents onto her desk. I spread them out looking for the one in question. From her vantage point on the chair she was now above me. I found the contract and handed it to her, my eyes finally meeting hers. Her vivid blue gaze stopped my heart, cool and yet chaotic behind her reading glasses. There was so much in her gaze I couldn't decipher. It was all hidden and I hated the barrier between us.

"Thank you." She murmured, her gaze dropping for a split second to my low cut dress which revealed my breasts quite generously. I wore my swimming costume underneath which acted like a push up bra. I knew that my D cup breasts were decidedly memorable in this dress.

Heat bloomed in my belly that had nothing to do with the weather and spread through my limbs. I wanted her so badly. I ached to touch her.

She pretended that she hadn't just been checking me out and stared at her computer screen with far more concentration than it deserved. I felt a small smile tug at my lips.

Despite what she wanted me to think, I knew that passion like we shared didn't just disappear because you willed it to.

I stood up and placed the papers on her desk, putting one hand on her desk and the other on her chair effectively trapping her there.

We discussed the account and then we wrapped it up by sending them their bill. Rose started to get up but stopped when she saw her way was blocked by me.

She looked at me sternly. "I need to get up."

I quirked a brow at her, smiling softly. I stood back a little to allow her to pass.

She got up slowly and moved past me, our faces close.

"I'm going to swim." She informed me, her tone brusque.

"Okay." I whispered. "I'll finish this up."

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.

.

Twenty minutes later I followed Rose to the pool. I knew David wasn't home, he was in Paris on business.

I tried to be bold and yet my heart was terrified of rejection.

The sound of water splashing up against the sides of the grotto filled my ears as I rounded the small, partially overgrown path which led to the entertainment area.

The grotto was a small man made cave built of large boulders which you could swim through. It was dimly lit at night by underwater lights and there were fairy lights strung along the walls surrounding the pool itself.

The sun was just setting, the sky red and gold and the air heavy.

My heart was beating erratically as I stepped out of my sandals and let my dress fall to the floor.

I didn't wait for nerves to take over, I dived into the deep end.

I surfaced just inside the entrance to the small lagoon which led to the grotto.

Rose was there, watching me intently.

We didn't speak, there was no need.

Rosalie swam towards me slowly, causing hardly a ripple on the surface of the turquoise water.

She looked like a water nymph, her yes a perfect match of the beautiful water.

When she got to me she did nothing but stare, which made me absurdly self conscious. Without warning she trailed a finger along my collarbone and followed the halterneck strap of my swimsuit to my cleavage.

I shuddered, my belly tight with anticipation.

"Did you wear this for me?" She asked, her voice husky intense.

Heavy, aching heat settled between my legs and I longed to fall into her.

I nodded slowly, scared of spooking her.

I licked my lips. "Yes."

Her electric gaze followed the movement of my tongue hungrily. Her hand grazed my neck, ever so slightly applying pressure before her fingers took my chin. Her thumb shook slightly as it traced my lower lip. My insides turned to molten lava, an insistent pulse throbbing inside my most private of places.

Her eyes mesmerised me, I stared like a freak at her face, memorising each feature in minute detail.

My lips parted slightly as my breathing sped up and her thumb pressed between them. My entire body clenched down hard at the sensuality of the little game Rosalie was playing with me.

I allowed instinct to take over completely and I licked her finger. I watched as azure blue darkened to stormy lust. I sucked her thumb into my mouth and snaked my tongue around it suggestively.

The soft cry which left Rosalie's lips hit me right in my solar plexus and I moaned around her finger.

Her free hand became an anchor behind my neck as she dragged me deeper into the gathering shadows of the grotto. My heart was exploding right out of my chest.

Her lips collided with mine just as my back touched the cold stone. The feel of her lips and tongue was a shot of pure adrenaline to my heart and intense pleasure to my body.

I kissed her back wildly, responding to every move as if we were one.

She tasted sweet, like candy apples and cinnamon. So fucking delicious.

Rosalie tugged the tie at the back of my neck and the swimming costume fell to my waist, exposing my breasts. Her hands cupped them instantly and I whimpered, my nipples painfully hard.

I arched against her, offering myself. Her mouth slid down and closed over my nipple. I jerked as if I'd been tasered, my hips grinding into her leg which had slid between mine.

The sound of the front door opening hit us both like a bucket full of ice water and we pulled apart guiltily. I tugged my swim suit back in place and tied it off.

Rosalie was already getting out the pool, her lithe figure fucking gorgeous in the fading twilight. I watched as she threw on the dress over her wet bikini and cast me one last look before she walked away.

I allowed myself to drift into the grotto, hidden from sight. I saw David standing at the sliding glass doors which overlooked the pool briefly before he walked off. I heard him talking to Rosalie and for some irrational reason I wanted to cry. He must have returned early from his trip and caught a taxi. Was he trying to catch us at something?

The water was getting a little too cold now and I shivered.

I wanted Rose back and yet - did I want everything to be the same?

Was I ready to share her once again and be kept as her dirty little secret?

I was sick to my stomach at the thought. No. I couldn't do this anymore. My heart was bound to shatter completely if she turned away from me again.

I wanted to hold her hand for all the world to see. I wanted to be hers in every sense of the word, I'd never wanted anyone like this before, not even Scott.

I pulled myself out of the water and picked up my clothing and shoes as I went. I dripped a trail all the way to the front door of the cottage. I was empty inside and even more damaged after my brief clandestine meeting with Rose in the grotto.

I knew that I had to leave. Staying here was no longer an option.