Brittany gnawed on her bottom lip as she stared at her computer screen, her eyes fixed on the one word she'd typed. Adjacent.
Upon returning from Santana's restaurant two days ago, more pissed than she'd been in over a year, she'd slammed the door of her house and thrown her purse on the couch, effectively scaring away Lord Tubbington. She'd sat in front of her computer and started typing the nastiest review. Santana Lopez would go down with this...
...a thought that had stopped her fingers and dissipated her anger.
She'd come to her senses soon enough and shut down her laptop before she could type anything more.
Now, Brittany wondered what was keeping her from writing an article on Adjacent. She'd been a bit bored with her work lately, and this was certainly a challenge she was interested in. Still, she knew she'd have to leave her personal feelings out of this, and after letting her anger get the best of her on Thursday, she wasn't sure she'd be able to. Santana was just so damn irritating. She'd gotten under her skin in less than a few minutes, something that had surprised Brittany. When she'd stepped into the restaurant, she'd thought she would be in control of herself, but it seemed like things were still quite heated between them.
Sighing, Brittany grabbed her glasses and pushed them onto her nose. She'd write Shelby a review proposal and see how things went from there. Her boss was rather lax, but Brittany had other obligations with Cuisine that she'd been postponing for a couple of days now. This would only stall them further, though she knew they weren't exactly urgent either.
Besides, she could still stop by Santana's restaurant and check out Rachel Berry's place the same week. The girl was aware she would come eventually, something Brittany would usually be iffy about, but in this case, it actually worked out in her favor. If this Rachel person knew who she was—and that probability was high, since Shelby was her mother, after all—Brittany wouldn't bother following her usual method. Normally, she'd go incognito three times and evaluate each meal, but she figured that this time, one trip would be enough. The chef would probably be on top of her game as soon as she got news the food critic was there, so really, it was no use trying to catch them being lazy.
Brittany would write that review this week but would wait around to assess Adjacent. She knew she was in dangerous territory, and Santana would most likely grow suspicious if she stopped by again so soon, especially after their argument. Well, thinking back, it wasn't so surprising for her to walk straight back to the woman after a fight.
Brittany scowled at herself and brought her fingers back to the keyboard.
After an hour of typing, staring at the screen, typing again, and staring longer, she clicked through her mailbox to send it out to Shelby. It was a summary of the places she'd hit that week, and she'd added in a paragraph on Adjacent as well. She'd just clicked send when her doorbell rang, making Tubbington purr in the corner of the couch. Her cat was getting lazier by the day, but Brittany didn't have the heart to force him on that pet treadmill ever again. The last time had been such a fiasco that she shuddered at the thought.
She took her glasses off and cursed when she noticed it was already 1 PM, and her friend Quinn was supposed to stop by for lunch. Brittany had forgotten to go grocery shopping this morning, but if she was lucky, she had just enough ingredients to whip up a tuna macaroni casserole.
With that thought in mind, she quickly cleaned the mess on the kitchen table and hurried to open the door when it rang a second time.
"Yeah yeah, I'm com–"
"Hey you."
"–ing."
Santana stood in front of her, wearing a dark blue trench coat and pouting her full lips in the most sinful way. The makeup around her eyes was dark and smoky, and her thick black locks fell down her shoulders and collarbone. She was one stunning femme fatale, and Brittany felt her core throb.
"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 Brittany could finish her sentence, pushing her inside and slamming the door shut. She smiled against Brittany's mouth, swallowing her moan when their tongues met for 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 gripped roughly at smooth, tan 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 Brittany's 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 God," Santana moaned, "it's been so long."
Brittany nodded mindlessly, focusing her attention on pressing her fingers 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.
"11—no, 13, ohh, 13 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 silky 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 now feeling so empty.
"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. However, 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 her fingers clean, humming contently before she let them go with a pop. "We'll see."