"Hi," she croaked.
Santana arched an eyebrow and smiled devilishly. "Are you seeing anyone?" Brittany frowned, surprised at the sudden question. "No—"
Santana cupped the back of her head and brought their lips together before she could finish her sentence, pushing Brittany inside and shutting the door behind her. She smiled against Brittany's mouth, swallowing her moan when their tongues met, the first time in three years. It felt good—too good—and Brittany groaned when Santana hastily undid the belt of her coat and shrugged it off, revealing her half-naked body. The lace of her bra was holding her full breasts wonderfully, and as soon as Brittany was pushed on the couch and straddled, she wasted no time in cupping the flesh and brushing her thumbs over hard nipples.
"God," Santana moaned, "I've missed this."
Brittany groaned at the dizzying scent Santana exuded, the warmth of her skin and the scratch of her fingers on her neck. With an angry glare, she recaptured the red lips, pushing her tongue against Santana's as she trailed her hands up and down smooth thighs. It was always the same, always a fight to get on top. Things never changed with Santana, and the way she gripped her hair possessively, the way she moved—confident, desperate—was only a solid reminder of that. It was all too familiar.
"You couldn't just let it go, could you?" Brittany snarled, and Santana smirked against her lips, shaking her head.
"How could I?" she husked, eyes flickering to Brittany's swollen lips. "You looked so hot. All red and flustered."
She let out a short, surprised gasp when Brittany's fingers trailed up her inner thigh to her covered sex, the cold of her fingers against her throbbing core a stark contrast.
"Come on baby, don't make me wait."
Brittany pressed two fingers against her entrance, smirking for the first time when Santana groaned and buried her face in the crook of her neck. Her breath was close to her ear now, coming in short pants as Brittany slid her fingers up and down her covered slit.
"Oh g-god," Santana moaned, "it's been so long."
Brittany nodded mindlessly, focusing her attention on her fingers, pressing slowly against Santana's warm entrance. Through the flimsy material of her thong, she could feel how wet she was, dripping down her thighs and soaking the tip of her fingers.
"How long?" Brittany whispered, pressing her thumb just where she knew—
"Oh," Santana gasped, digging her nails into Brittany's arm. "R-right there, pleas—"
"How long?" Brittany repeated, pressing down on her bundle of nerves and drawing tight circles around it, loving the way she shuddered against her.
"Eleven—no, thirteen, ohh, thirteen months."
"That is long," Brittany murmured against her neck, strands of black hair tickling her nose. She inhaled her scent before slipping her fingers past the scratchy fabric and parting her wet folds, inching herself inside her.
"Bri—"
"I know, baby," she groaned. "Fast and—"
Brittany heard the knock on the door and froze, knowing all too well who was behind it and what it meant. Santana shook her head and clenched her inner muscles against her fingers, trying desperately to grind against them. "Britt, no, please," she panted.
Brittany hesitated before she slipped her fingers out, earning herself a sharp scratch on her arm. "No," Santana whined, frustrated from being filled so nicely to feeling so empty now.
"I have to get it," Brittany said.
Santana huffed angrily and unstraddled her, moving to grab her coat. She knew her body was a sight for sore eyes, but she wasn't about to let a stranger gawk at her.
"You should go," Brittany murmured, tilting her head apologetically. There was an undeniable smile on her face, something that certainly didn't go unnoticed. "I'm having lunch with a friend."
"Of course you are," Santana fumed. She tied her coat firmly and moved to the door, turning around with a glare. "Damn. This isn't over."
Brittany smirked as she held her stare and licked off her fingers, humming contently before she let them go with a pop. "We'll see."
She winked before moving to the door and opening it, grinning when Quinn rocked back on her heels and smiled. "Hey B, I was starting to think you weren't home."
Santana rolled her eyes from behind the door. So freaking charming.
"Sorry, I had an, uh, unexpected guest." Brittany motioned to Santana as she opened the door wider. "Q, this is Santana Lopez. Santana, this is Quinn Fabray."
They greeted each other politely before Santana moved past them awkwardly, turning around to look at Brittany and mumbling a decidedly frustrated "see you around" before walking down the steps of her house.
Quinn arched an eyebrow as Brittany smirked and closed the door. "She seems..."
"Yeah."
"Is she the girl you told me about?"
"No, just an old friend."
Quinn smiled and nodded. She was definitely not convinced by the answer, but she knew not to push the issue. Brittany was being purposefully elusive, but to be honest, Quinn was too hungry to dig deeper.
"Well, I'm sorry I'm late. Sam had to go to the hospital, because his assistant dropped a motor on his foot."
"Ouch, is he okay?"
"Yeah, he'll be fine. He told me he's limping pretty badly though."
Brittany nodded as she moved to the kitchen, opening a cupboard to grab a cooking pot and fill it with water. She was trying to calm her breath, which was proving to be hard when she felt the burn between her thighs spread to her stomach.
She turned to Quinn. "Tuna mac okay?"
"Definitely okay. I'm so starved I could eat blood sausage."
Brittany laughed. "Blood sausage is actually delicious. You just have to season it well."
"Well, it's an acquired taste, I guess."
"Blah, you've no taste at all," Brittany teased.
"I have enough taste to know that that woman I just met was extremely gorgeous. Also, I totally twat-swatted you, didn't I?"
Brittany blinked, turning around to look at Quinn. "Since when—what are you...I mean, what?"
Quinn grinned. "You think you're so clever, but you've got her lipstick all over your mouth."
Brittany's eyes widened as she wiped her lips. She looked down at the back of her hand and, unsurprisingly, there was a reddish smear from her fingers to her wrist. As Brittany remembered Santana's luscious lips, she grew distracted by the image of her walking home so scantily clad. Or perhaps she had driven here...but imagining her fingers griping at the steering wheel frustratingly, no doubt squeezing her thighs together as she drove home, proved to be an even bigger distraction. So much so that she didn't hear Quinn's bark of a laugh.
"Oh my, you are smitten."
Brittany cleared her thoughts, eyes narrowing as she noticed Quinn was now setting the table for two. She'd been a very good friend ever since they'd met at Cuisine, and their weekly lunches were now routine, but Brittany suddenly felt terribly uncomfortable. Or perhaps guilty was the term, as she realized Quinn was always very open with her, often talking about her husband, Sam, and their three year-old wonder, Gabriel, while she shied away from delving too much into personal stories.
Quinn was one of the rare people who knew about her double life, so to speak, and Brittany considered her her best friend. However, it was still awkward to share so much when they'd only known each other for two years.
"I have to say, when you described her two weeks ago I had no idea she—"
"That wasn't her," Brittany blurted.
"What?"
"The girl I told you about two weeks ago was Samantha. She broke it off after our second date," Brittany sighed.
"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't know."
"It's okay, I'm just glad you didn't start telling Santana that," she smiled.
"Yeah...so what's the deal with her?" Quinn asked, albeit a bit hesitantly. She knew Brittany was definitely not an open book, but it was worth a try.
Unsurprisingly, Brittany waved her hand in the hair and said, "It's complicated." It sounded odd in Quinn's ears, but her friend's hasty dismissal made her arch a curious eyebrow. Hmm, maybe she'd have to Google this Santana Lopez.
Internally, she reasoned this was not creepy at all. She only had her best friend's interests at heart, and only God—and most likely Sam—knew how long she'd been trying to set Brittany up with the perfect match.
After a very copious meal and Quinn complaining about her inevitable food coma, they said their goodbyes and scheduled their next lunch for Friday. Brittany hoped Quinn hadn't noticed her complete distraction; Quinn was very observant, a skill that no doubt contributed to her career as a photographer, but she was also very tactful, something Brittany really appreciated. She'd had friends push for personal information before, and she'd never been too comfortable with it, choosing to answer peculiarly so as to throw them off. Granted, they often called her insane or idiotic behind her back, but it still had the desired effect.
Brittany was grateful to have Quinn.
Not to mention, her work at Cuisine was damn stunning. Brittany loved her style in general, but her articles were always accompanied by the best of culinary pictures, which Brittany admitted had made her drool more than once.
She pondered if she should tell her about Santana, but Brittany realized she wouldn't know where to start. Their history was one heck of a mess. Brittany had lost count of how many times they had broken up and gotten back together. She rubbed her temples as she felt a migraine coming; just the thought of it made her want to bash her head into a wall.
She flopped down on her desk chair and glanced at her computer, noticing the mail icon jumping up and down on her desktop. She clicked on the box and bit her lip as she read through Shelby's answer.
Brittany -
Everything sounds good. I heard about Adjacent but I was going to ask Jesse to check it out.
You have my okay to do it though.
I can give you a delay for LuPones if you want. - Shelby Corcoran
Brittany hummed thoughtfully as she realized Shelby was giving her the green light to review Santana's restaurant. This was going to be delicate, and she wasn't so sure about this now that Santana had—well, now that both she and Santana had acted like animals in heat. Brittany would have to keep her distance if she wanted to stay unbiased, which was definitely something she prided herself on. She shuddered at the thought of speaking to Santana like the last time, sitting at a table as she secretly reviewed her food and her staff. If Brittany had learned one thing from their relationship, it was how much the now-chef loathed anything to do with lies and deceit.
As she let thoughts of Santana wash over her once again, Brittany knew this would definitely be a challenge. At this point, however, the only thing she was worried about was the wrath of her ex-girlfriend if she ever discovered she was about to be duped.