"Are you kidding me?" Sharon tried to keep her voice even as she stalked ahead of Brenda.
"I said I'm sorry, Sharon. I thought you'd be in Park City, and Fritz would be at his apartment, and I'd be able to tell them the truth in person! Without witnesses, so that if they keel over and die from heart failure it won't be murder, really." Brenda ducked into a conference room and pulled Sharon in by the tail of her blazer.
"They still think you're with him! That nothing has happened! That he was away on assignment?! And now he's back! And you've let them think that. And HE has apparently let them think that. And don't get me started on what I think THAT means, because, I might have to then investigate myself for use of force against a federal agent. Jesus, Brenda. This is beyond farcical, you realize that, right?" Sharon bumped the door to the conference room closed with her hip, and then leaned against it, sighing.
"I will fix it. But first, we have to solve this case, and get you on your $700 flight to Park City, and then I will handle my parents, and by the time you come to kiss me on New Year's Eve, I will be out and proud, Portia to your Ellen, and all that. Just stop looking at me like that! I can't stand it when you're mad at me." She stepped closer to Sharon, reaching out to take her hand.
Sharon closed the space between them, wrapping her arms around Brenda. The effect the younger woman had on her blood pressure was probably not healthy, not with regards to arousal or anger, both of which Sharon was feeling in fairly equal portion. It had been so long since Brenda had really pushed her buttons that she'd forgotten how quickly the line between blinding irritation, and all-consuming lust could blur. The heat of Brenda's body against hers was clouding her better judgment. All she wanted to do was shove her hands under that awful floral skirt, and let her fingers remind Brenda just who she belonged to, despite what her parents might think. Her breathing hitched, as Brenda pressed her lips gently to her collarbone.
Sharon thumbed the lock on the door, and grabbed Brenda by the hips, propelling her towards the table in the center of the room. She lifted Brenda up onto the table, catching her lips in a searing kiss, as she stepped between those ridiculously toned thighs. Brenda gasped, and moaned into the kiss, her hands finding their way into Sharon's hair, her nails scraping bluntly at her scalp. Sharon fisted the material of Brenda's skirt, shoving it mercilessly out of the way, and trailed her fingers roughly along smooth skin.
"You can't just pretend that we're not real, Brenda." Sharon nipped at the skin of Brenda's throat as she spoke. "You can't pretend that we don't exist because it's inconvenient, or it might make people uncomfortable." She slipped her hand beneath the damp triangle of cloth, teasing at curls.
"I know. I know, you're right. You're absolutely right, Sharon." Brenda replied, canting her hips towards the fingers that tormented relentlessly.
Sharon cupped the back of Brenda's head with her free hand, crushing their lips together, the whimper escaping unbidden as her tongue swept into Brenda's humid mouth. The lingering flavor of gingerbread and coffee mixed with the unique taste of Brenda, and Sharon felt like a starving woman at a buffet, as she nibbled and sucked at the generous mouth beneath hers. Brenda's hands fell to Sharon's shoulders, pulling their bodies closer as she thrust herself onto questing fingers, groaning as they slid home effortlessly.
"Jesus, Sharon…" Brenda gasped as Sharon pressed a third finger in, subtly shifting her thumb across the exposed bundle of nerves.
"You belong to me." Sharon's voice was raspy, as she pistoned her hand between Brenda's thighs. "I don't share. I go first, except when I'm letting you go first, because I love you. But I do. Not. Share." She punctuated her words with expert twists of her wrist, and Brenda felt the waves rising from the small of her back.
"Yes. Yes, I am all yours, Sharon. All yours. Always…Oh, god. Always." Brenda clenched down on the three fingers that were pressing against that spot that only Sharon could find, and colors exploded behind her eyes, a rhythmic kaleidoscope, pulsing in time with her heartbeat. She couldn't enjoy it though, wouldn't allow herself to be boneless, limpid and satisfied, not when every fiber of her needed to be inside Sharon Raydor right that minute. She slid off the table, gracelessly, her legs not quite ready to hold her weight, and pushed the fabric of Sharon's skirt up, scrabbling at her panties, before tugging them down. She closed her mouth over Sharon's sex, swiping her tongue along the entire length, gathering all the evidence she needed to prove that she wasn't alone in this. She drove her tongue inside, the sound of Sharon breathing rapidly through her nose made her ache, as though she hadn't just been thoroughly debauched.
She licked, and sucked, and tasted, and when she felt Sharon start to tremble, she slipped two fingers deep inside, twisting them, as she slid her tongue over and over and over the tiny pearl, relishing the tug of Sharon's hands in her hair, and the heat of her thighs, and the overwhelming scent of her sex, their sex, mingling, and she groaned, the sound vibrating through Sharon like church bells, and suddenly Sharon was taut around her fingers, a throbbing tension that broke with a muffled shriek, and Brenda slowed her movements, bringing her lover down gently, before standing, and drawing her into a kiss that belied the earlier fervor and urgency with its slow, easy pace.
"I'm going to tell them tonight. I promise. I don't want to lose this…you…no matter what." Brenda whispered into Sharon's neck, her words muffled by the kisses she was pressing to the sweat damp skin there.
"Tonight. And before that, we've got a case to solve, and I've got a plane to catch. So we should probably get moving." Sharon leaned drowsily against the table; Brenda nestled into her body, nodded in agreement.
"I don't know how you expect me to think critically after something like that. You might have to go rescue Provenza from all that elfy stuff, and solve the case with him. Wouldn't that be something? Cap'n Raydor, head of Major Crimes, Christmas Division."
"Oh please. This band of n'er-do-wells would sooner transfer to traffic in Pasadena, than be under my command. Provenza most of all. Come on. You look like you've gone a few rounds, your mascara is frightful, and I'm pretty sure I left a hickey just here, so you'll need to button one more button." Sharon smirked, as Brenda rolled her eyes and buttoned her shirt.
"You are just awful! Hickeys, like we're in junior high!" Brenda groused.
"As a point of fact, I was a sophomore in high school before I gave or received a hickey. I thought it was us Yanks who were supposed to be women of loose morals. What sort of shenanigans were you getting up to in the 8th grade, Chief?" Sharon tugged her hair back into a loose bun, and ran a tissue under her eyes and around her lips as she spoke.
"Cap'n, could you just do me one teensy favor, pretty please? Could you just hush? That'd be great. Thank you so much." Brenda smiled sweetly, and dropped a final kiss on Sharon's lips as she swept out the door, hoping beyond hope that her clothes were properly sorted, and her lipstick wasn't too terribly smudged.