Hi! As I said, I get really inspired by reviews, and you guys were awesome about the Jen chap! I knew there were some geeks among you all u.u So, I didn't take long to update this time, did I? Before getting started, though, I wanted to say I'm sorry about any grammar or spelling mistakes in this fic. I'm brazilian, my cute beta is brazilian, and we try, but sure we don't get it all. I don't mind if you guys point out the errors in reviews, so I get it right and learn for next time ;)
And for those of you who are waiting for more Pezberry, I tell: things definitely heat up from now on. Hope you enjoy!
5 – Margareth, the married cougar
"'So good I could barely keep my pants on'? I'm quoting, Kurt. Really."
"So Rachel had a nice date. What's the problem?" He asks, stoping the car at the red traffic light.
"A nice date with a girl!"
"What about it, Santana?" Kurt looks at me, taping his fingers at the steering wheel.
"She just met this woman yesterday."
"You crazy? Lizzie has been Rachel's coreographer for six months now."
"Worst! Screwing someone from work is just unethical."
"Rachel's not screwing her."
"Not yet."
"I don't know why you're so upset about it." Kurt's eyebrows raise in curiosity.
"Well, maybe it's because I'm on my way to my fifth blind date this year and I haven't got close to lose my pants yet! Cause you're completely unable to find me a nice girl, but won't give up this stupid bet! Now even Rachel Berry, that suddenly decided to explore her sexuality playing for the other team, is having better dates than I am!"
"Right, that's really nice of you. If you're not getting lucky, your best friend sure shouldn't either. Is that it, Santana?"
"Yes! I mean, no! It's just... She'd never seemed to be interested in girls before. We've been living together for years now. And she'd never..."
"Had the hots for you?"
He laughs at his own question, but I don't think it's funny at all.
"It's just weird, ok? Rachel with a girl is just... Whatever. I just wanted you to find me a girl that made me want to lose my pants."
"Well, I'm sorry, but I did find you some great girls. You are the one finding problems in all of them."
"Should I recap my dates to you?"
"Please, don't. You've done that all week." He sighs deeply before looking at me again. "I'm trying to help, you know. You've been in a bad mood all year. Just try to have a little fun, for a change."
"Please, you let Puck set this date up. Puckerman! I'm probably spending the night with a pole dancer transvestite!"
"That's just the reason I'm coming along. If this girl is a bit... too exotical, I'll free you from this month's date."
"Swear?"
"Yes, I swear." I feel a bit better now.
Kurt keeps driving for a few minutes, following the GPS's instructions. When we get to our destination, though, my chin drops a little.
"Is that the place? Are you kidding me?"
"No... That's really it."
We're parked in front of a really beautiful restaurant. A vallet is opening the car's door for me, and Kurt hands him the keys. It's no doubt a high class place, with awesome fixtures lightening the way to the entrance. I wasn't expecting that.
Kurt and I walk in, sharing an amused silence. It can't be right. Puck did not set me up with someone in this place. I'll just check the reservation to prove that we came to the wrong restaurant.
"Hi. Is there a reservation in the name of Margareth Kennedy?" I ask the concierge and she smiles at me sweetly before nodding.
"Are you miss Santana Lopez?"
"Yes."
"Miss Kenedy's waiting for you. Shall I take you to her table?"
"No. No, no, no." I shake my head intently. "Don't do that. Just come over here for a sec and discretely point miss Kennedy out for me, ok?"
The receptionist narrows her eyes for a moment then shrugs a bit.
"Sure, miss."
Kurt follows us both to the threshold of the diner saloon, where the girl shifts her head in the direction of a table a few steps away. There's a blonde woman sitting there. I look at her for a moment, and my jaw drops again. She's not just beautiful, she's marvolous. And yes, I do know how idiot it sounds, but that's the only word I can think of to describe her.
"No way!" I mutter, steping back to the reception.
"Where are you going?"
"No way, no way, no way." I keep saying, as I push Kurt out of the restaurant.
"Santana! Are you crazy? You cannot blow off this date! Have you seen that woman?"
"Yes, I did!" I drag Kurt along as I make the vallet lead us to where the car's parked. "That's exactly why I can't get in there like this." I say pointing at myself. "Get in there."
Once we're in the car, I start undressing.
"Give me your shirt."
"What?"
"Give me your shirt, Kurt! Now!" Of course he's wearing a fashion and expesinve black shirt that's much cuter than whatever I am wearing. I mean, Puckerman arranged that date. I would never think I'd have to be better dressed than jeans and sneakers.
He's not happy about it, but as I botton up his shirt on myself, Kurt admits it looks nice. Of course it's a little tight in my boobs, but that's just a nice plus. I catch a pair of high heels I keep hidden on the car since Sarah burned all the rest and put on quickly. There's some make up in my purse and Kurt has much more in his purse, so I use the rearview mirror to come up with something. Then I run my fingers through my hair, making fast a embedded lateral braid.
"What do you think?" I ask when it's all done.
"I think an extreme makeover just took place in this car."
"Good. Wish me lucky." I say, opening the door again.
"Look at yourself. You don't need any lucky, gorgeous." Kurt says smiling, and I can't help but smile too as I go back to the restaurant.
The receptionist takes two glances to reconize me, but does not say anything about it. This time I let her lead me to the table. Margareth gets up when I approach.
"I'm so sorry I am late." I say politely.
"Don't worry about that, dear." She smiles at me and gives me two pecks on the cheeks, before we sit in front of each other.
"I didn't know this place."
"Oh. I'm sorry. I guess it was a bit rude of me not asking before if you are fond of French cuisine."
"Are you kidding? This place is awesome." I really hope Kurt comes back home and describes all of this to Rachel in details. She'll see what's a good date, all right.
"It is, indeed. I chose because I come here a lot. They have a fantastic champagne. Must I order us a bottle?"
Champagne! That's great, she's already trying to get me drunk. Let's see who'll lose pants until the end of the night.
"Of course."
Margareth almost doesn't need to make a sign to get a waiter to come along. He's ridiculously fast in serving her.
"Everybody around here seems to know you."
Margareth smiles again.
"Yes, as I said, it is one of my favorite restaurants. I guess that's a place for customers. Look at that couple at your left..."
"What about them?"
"They are new here. Started coming a few weeks ago. They're newly married, as you can see."
"Actually, I can't really see it..."
"That's easy to observe." Margareth lows her tone and her voice sounds sexier. "They sit side by side. Not front to front."
"What about it?" I raise my eyebrown, still no figuring it out.
"Have you ever tried to spend hours talking to someone sitting by your side? You exercise all your periferical vision and your neck still hurts by the end of the night."
"I guess you're right..."
"The advantage, of course, is that it makes much easier all the touching under the table."
She has a point, but I'm not sure it's accurate. All my dates usually sit in front of me, even the girls who obviously would like to get all handy. As I try to remeber, the only one who always seems to sit by my side is Rachel. And of course we're never doing anything under the table. It's natural. I mean, she's just warm and feels kind of cozy.
I shake my head a little as I realize I'm wondering. Margareth smiles bigger.
"Really? That's what you think they're doing?" I ask, going back to our conversation.
"Yes."
I look at the couple, paying more attention, and notice the blushness in the girl's cheeks. The dirt smile in the guy's face. What I don't see anywhere is their hands.
"Oh my God, they are so doing it!"
Margareth chuckles and I look at her again. Man, she's beautiful. Yes, she is undeniably at least twenty years older than me. But she's so astonishing that I don't have the thought I wonder when she was younger – no, I can tell her age is just right, improving her beauty with some seriousness and experience. Her blonde hair is short, curled, and her eyes are big, round and green.
I wish Rachel could see her. I mean, I wish all my friends could see her. She's one to show off, this Margareth.
"So, Santana..." Margareth looks at me mindfully. "How was your day?"
I am a bit surprised by the fact that she actually seems to be interested in the answer.
"Regular, I guess." Good, Santana. You're sounding very interesting. Sucker!
"Noah told me you're a publicist."
"Yes. Working on it, actually. I'm not graduated yet."
"Do you know what you wanna do after you graduate?"
"I want to work at show business marketing area."
"Lovely. You know, I have one or two friends that are in the industry... Maybe I could give them your phonenumber, if that's ok with you."
"You don't even know if I'm any good."
"I would bet on you blindly." She says, sipping the champagne the waiter poured so discreetly I almost didn't see.
Oh, smooth!
"Thank you." That's all I come up with. Margareth blinks one eye at me and smiles.
Ok, that's it. I gotta take a picture of her – and I'd tottaly post it on my Instagram if Sarah hadn't hacked it. Doesn't matter, I still make a slow motion move in my purse's direction and get my phone out of it. I let it lay on my lap for now.
"Oh, I wish this man on the piano would just take a break." Margareth sighs lowly, looking at the corner of the saloon where there's a black man on a grand piano.
"Why? He plays nicely."
"You haven't met Daniel. He's the usual piano player of the house. He's terrific. I wonder how long his vacations will last."
"I wonder why don't you just ask that waiter for Daniel to get back. I bet he wouldn't mind to go get him right now, anxious as he is to please you."
"Oh, aren't you mean?" Margareth says, but she's laughing.
"Well, I'm just saying he's not being very discrete."
"About what, dear?"
"About checking you out."
Margareth laughs a bit louder. She knows it's truth, though. But I can't blame the guy. Not really.
"Phillip's a sweet boy."
"Yeah, right. And what about this other guy over there?"
"Who?" Margareth turns a little to where I'm pointing at and I take the chance to take a quick picture of her.
"Never mind. I guess I'm just being silly. But you are truly beautiful, Margareth."
"And you are very kind." She says, grinning at me. "Also gorgeous, I must say."
Also gorgeous, I must say. This talking sounds so familiar. But of course Margareth was born and raised to behave like this. Rachel just try to sound like a diva all the time. Fuck, why am I thinking about her again?
"Are you ok? It seemed like I lost you for a moment."
"No, I'm here. I'm totally here." I sign and smile at her. "Actually, I was wondering how in this world you know Puckerman."
"Noah used to clean my pool at the Hamptons. I always thought him to be a very promising young man."
"When he was not trying to get in your bed, I imagine."
Ha! House at the Hamptons, suck it up Ber- Ok, that's enough.
"Yes, true." She smiles amused. "I helped him to start up his company and, of course, now he has a lot of cute boys that cleans all pools for him. But not mine. He still comes to clean my pool and drink margaritas every Wednesday of the summer."
"Isn't he charming?"
"You know he is."
"Sure I do. I dated him."
"Is that so?"
"High School. A long time ago."
"Like there's such a thing as 'a long time ago' at your age."
Margareth rolls her eyes just a bit and gives me a crooked smile.
"Are you hungry?"
There are menus in our hands before I can even answer. Margareth thanks Phillip and dismisses him politely. As Margareth runs her eyes through the card, I quietly check on the photo I took before.
Damn, all I got was pretty much her neck. Pearl earings, blonde hair, blue shirt. But, basically, neck. Whatever, I still send the photo to Rachel and Kurt, subcribing "Díos, she's hot!". Of course Kurt already saw her, but there's no ill in bragging a little. Hope Rachel won't notice that all you can really see is Margareth's neck.
"Cute neck! :)"
Fuck, she noticed.
"You can imagine the rest."
"Well, I'll let it for you to imagine."
"No need. I'll see it all by the end of the night."
"Uh, dirty Santana!"
"Yeah, let's see who's quickier in loosing pants."
Shit, that didn't come out as I imagined.
"Hm... Ok?"
"Did you choose, dear?" Margareth asks and I almost drop my phone, hidden as I am behind the menu.
I lay it down and smile sheepishly at Margareth.
"I'm sorry, my French's not very good." That's a lie, because I've been studying Frech for over a year now and I'm awesome at it, but I need an excuse and something tells me Margareth will just enjoy choosing for me.
She feels bossy. I wouldn't tell anyone. Ever. But I kinda like bossy women.
"Let me help you, then."
Her hand covers mine for a moment as she praises a meat. She has soft warm hands. Her green eyes sparkle. I'm not sure of what I ordered when Phillip walks away once more.
I few minutes go by as we chat. She's easy to talk to. Very intelligent, very instructed. Our food comes and we eat a little and talk a lot. Margareth seems to know a bit about anything and she listens to everything I say as it matters.
There's something that shines in her eyes when she smiles. She's not checking me out, but she actually is. How is it even possible? I don't know, but it's turning me on.
"So, Puck told you I am a publicist, but he didn't tell me anything about you." I breathe deeply and strait my eyes. "What are you, Margareth?"
"Well... I'm rich."
"And direct."
She beams and shakes her head.
"When my father died, he let me a insurance company that I had no idea how to rule. So I sold it for a big amount of money and I haven't managed to spend it all yet."
It's incredible how she doesn't sound cocky as she says all that. She just sounds honest, not full of crap, lies and excuses. Díos, I want to expose this woman in a outdoor in front of my apartment. So maybe I won't be that sad-kinda-funny girl with a thousand bad dates. I might be one to get people jealous, for once.
Margareth looks so perfect, sounds so right, feels so good. She's everything a date should be and...
FUCK.
"What is wrong about you?" I ask out of a sudden. Margareth seems surprised.
"I'm not sure I understand your question, dear."
"Are you a serial killer?"
"Not really, no."
"Racist?"
"God, no."
"Do you watch a lot of tv?"
"Hardly."
"Ok, quick answers now. An actress."
"Sophia Loren."
"A book."
"The picture of Dorian Gray."
"Nice. Complete the sentences: hands...»
"Touch."
"Talk."
"Dirty."
"Oral."
"Sex."
"God, you're perfect!"
Margareth laughs. She's not blushed, not embarassed, not even giving me a "you're weird" look. She just seems to be having fun.
"You are so cute."
"No, I mean it! You're rich, as you said. You're beautiful. You're interesting. I'm pretty sure boys and girls line up at your door. So I'm thinking why the hell someone like yourself would go on a blind date setted up by the pool boy. There must be something really wrong about you."
"Well, first... In a bit awkward way, I guess this was a compliment. So, thank you."
"You're welcome. Why are you here?"
"It sounded fun. And romantic. A silly fun romantic thing, really. When I thought about it I felt... young. Yes, young, like in that time when we're still desperately trying to find true love. Trying everything to get it. Even blind dates. Like in that Sinatra's song. Call me silly."
"I wouldn't. I'm glad you accepted the pool boy's suggestion."
"I am too."
And now she's looking at me in a way I can hardly explain. It's sexy, yet serious. It's seriously sexy. It makes my stomach contract.
"I'm not sure I know that Sinatra's song, though." I say, giving her the hook. She takes it.
"That's a shame. I have all of his vinyls at my apartment. Perhaps we should stop by so I can introduce you to this classic?"
"No, not perhaps. Certainly."
It takes two minutes for Margareth to pay the bill. I try, but she won't let me get close to my wallet, so I shrug and let her endear me, in her own words. The way in the cab to her apartment in the Fith Avenue is a blur. In the backseat, even a blind person could see the tension between us.
Her apartment is nobly decorared, of course. But I really pay more attention at Margareth as she puts a vinyl at the gramophone. Sinatra's voice echoes all around her living room. She turns to me and comes closer.
"Will you dance with me, Santana?"
"I may."
Her arms are around my waist a second later, and the touch is respectiful, but feels so intimate. The music is slow and sexy. Margareth is singing along very low. I shake my head so I don't listen to Rachel's voice mumbling music around as she cleans the house, once in a while. I gotta concentrate in Margareth. Concentrate in loosing my pants, cause Rachel sure is doin that and- SHUT UP, BRAIN!
Strangers in the night exchanging glances
Wondering in the night
What were the chances we'd be sharing love
Before the night was through.
Something in your eyes was so inviting
Something in your smile was so exciting,
Something in my heart,
Told me I must have you.
When Margareth's lips touch mine, I open my mouth to her kiss. She's seducing me and I don't wanna resist. It's a slow, deep kiss. I sigh as her tongue slides down my neck. Her fingers are going through my braid undoing it delicately.
"I love the tone of your skin. I wanted to taste it from the moment I saw you walk in." Margareth's voice in my ear is rough.
"In that case, please, help yourself." I say back as I start to unbutton my – Kurt's – shirt.
I don't pay attention to the way while Margareth leads me to her room. All the time, we're kissing and her hands are going through my body, mindfully. We lay down and I help her to undress, revealing a slim, tender body.
Margareth's hands are precise and soon I'm completely naked. She does not stare at my body hungrily or anything like this, but she sure appreciates it – that I can tell by the way she touches me. Firmly, yet calmly. Her touch's always going to the right places. She knows what she's doing and I know I like it.
We roll on the bed for some time, kissing and touching each other. It's great when I feel the moisture between her tighs. It's great to make someone feel like this again, finally! I could devour her in two minutes, but at the same time I couldn't. Cause that's not how this is going... Margareth's pace is different. Not exactly romantic, but not passionate either.
Damn, I'm overthinking again. I'll just let go... this feels so good. And now she's touching me so in the right place. God, I love this feeling... I start touching her too. Margareth sighs and her face becomes all reddish as she comes – so fast, hot and quietly.
I'm not sure it's the best idea when she goes down my body. I think it'll be easier to concentrate if I look at her pretty face as she touches me. But then she gets to her point and I really don't complain. I close my eyes, just feeling her mouth on me.
I moan lowly, pulling her hair a little, right before I come. Margareth comes up to hold me. She kisses me softly and I feel good. Pretty good.
I just can't believe I just had this amazing date. That ended up in sex! With this amazing woman. I finally – FINALLY – found someone worthy my time. My nights, my dates, my months...
"I gotta go, dear."
"What?" I raise an eyebrow as Margareth pulls away, delicately. "Go where? I thought this was your apartment."
"It is. It's not my home, though."
"I don't get it. Don't you live here?"
"No, dear. I don't live in the city for years now."
"Then, this place..." I look around and the truth hits me in the face. "Oh."
"That doesn't mean you can't stay. Please, make yourself comfortable. You're welcome to stay for the night." She says and her voice is sweet. But she's getting dressed.
"Why don't you stay with me?"
"Oh, I wish I could." Margareth smiles big. "But Robert gets all upset when I spend the whole night out."
"Who the hell...?" But I don't have to end this question, do I? "You're married."
That's what's wrong with her. Still better than a serial killer, I guess.
My tone attracts Margareth's eyes. She looks at me for a long time and then sits in the bed again.
"You didn't know?"
I shake my head.
"I thought Noah... Santana... I never meant to deceive you."
"I know. That's ok. Don't worry."
"Tonight was very special."
"I'm sure it was."
"You are very special. And I would love to see you again."
"Yes... Sure, Margareth."
"You have my number."
"I do."
"Call me."
I just shake my head again, not sure what to answer. Of course I won't stay here alone for the night – the idea is weird and lonely. So I start to get dressed again and Margareth and I go out together. She kisses me in the cheek before getting into a cab.
I'm far away from home, but now I feel like walking. My phone is vibrating in my pocket, but I don't get the call, don't read the message, I don't do anything. I just walk. It's really not like I just got hurt. And I'm not even mad at Puckerman. I know what he's going to say about it. I thought you wanted to get laid, not married. And he'll be right.
I don't know why I'm feeling this blue. At least, when I get home, I get to say my date was so freaking good that I couldn't keep my pants on at all. Yes, I won, Rachel. I lost my pants first, see? Yeah, I'll think about that in my way... But right now – right freaking NOW – I feel like the only thing I can win is in... losing.