Ava couldn't remember when, exactly, she had become this person — the one willing to abandon all pretense of professionalism just to feelsomethingreal. But here she was, knelt down on the plush carpet of Deborah Vance's oversized dressing room, staring at shoes that probably cost more than her mortgage, her fingers trembling as they hovered just above Deborah's ankles, playing with the straps of the shoes as if were actually going to help remove them or tighten them. She had honestly forgotten what she was doing at that point.
"This isn't part of your job description, you know," Deborah quipped, her voice sharp, eyes narrowing as she looked down at Ava with the same mix of sarcasm and derision she always carried. The dressing room lights, golden and theatrical, cast Deborah's figure in harsh, regal lines. She was still wearing her stage makeup — thick, perfectly applied eyeliner and lashes so long they could double as weapons.
Ava's mouth twisted into a smirk, a familiar response to the jabs Deborah threw like they were second nature. Maybe they were. "Oh, I know. My job description includes all the fun stuff like getting coffee, smiling politely when you insult me, and ghostwriting jokes about menopause. This? Definitely not in the fine print." She leaned closer, running her fingers along the delicate leather strap of Deborah's heels, her movements deliberate, almost taunting, but still in the pretense of doing her job. It was all excuses. Excuses to touch her boss. "But honestly? You look like you could use the help."
A laugh escaped Deborah, sharp and biting. "You think you're helping me?" She shifted, her fingers gripping the edge of the makeup counter behind her. "Honey, I've been doing just fine for decades without you. You're lucky I let you hang around for the free therapy sessions."
"Right, because I justlovelistening to you complain about the temperature in every venue we go to," Ava shot back, looking up at Deborah with that signature mix of dry amusement and faux-exasperation. Her fingers now trailed along Deborah's calf, slow, testing the waters. She hadn't quite gotten the strap right. Even she wasn't this clumsy.
Deborah had to know that.
Beneath all the sarcasm and the sharpness, there was a heat — one that had been building between them since... well, since the beginning, probably. It wasn't anything either of them had ever named, but it was there.
Always.
Deborah tilted her head, her blonde hair perfectly coiffed, as always, despite the lateness of the hour. Her red lips curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, honey, the temperature is the least of your problems right now." She let the words hang in the air, letting the tension pull tight like a bowstring.
The innuendo was there, but it could be brushed off as something else. Dangerous but not something still couldn't be pushed aside just like the way Ava was still fiddling with her shoe, probably caressing the soft skin of her boss's anklewaymore than she had to.
Ava, of course, never one to back down from a challenge — especially when it came to Deborah — arched an eyebrow. Not when she was a weed gummy in and months without any sex that didn't involve her own hand in some tiny tour bus bunk.
"Yeah? What's the big problem, then? Other than the fact that you're wildly out of touch and refuse to believe that TikTok isn't just a passing trend?" She was still touching Deborah's leg, her hand now pressing just a little harder, her movements intentional, and yet still casual enough to give her an exit strategy. Ava didn't think she'd need one, though. Not tonight.
Maybe this was just another dream.
But she hoped it wasn't. Normally those dreams were a bit weirder. A bit kinker and moved a bit faster. This seemed real.
Deborah's gaze flicked down to where Ava's hand rested on her leg, then back up to Ava's face, her eyes gleaming with something Ava couldn't quite place. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was amusement. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the same hunger Ava felt gnawing away inside her.
"You always do this," Deborah said, her voice low and calculated. She leaned forward in her chair, her free hand moved from the makeup counter to her hip, a position she often took when gearing up to put Ava in her place. "You push, and push, and push, thinking I'll just roll over and let you have whatever you want. But newsflash, sweetie—" Her gaze locked on Ava's, unflinching. "You never get to win here."
"Already winning, actually," she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She leaned closer up on her haunches, her face inches from Deborah's, her breath warm against the older woman's skin. "Didn't you say working for you was like winning the lottery? Jackpot, baby! I get paid to write hacky jokes, eat room service, and listen to you moan about your exes. Frankly, I'm living the dream."
Deborah's jaw clenched, but there was the smallest flicker of a smile on her lips, just enough to show Ava she'd hit a nerve. "Hacky jokes? You mean those so-called punchlines you write between your endless sessions of self-pity and hungover mornings? And moaning, don't get me started on the pathetic moans I can hear through that thin bus door." Deborah scoffed. "If that's your idea of winning, I'd hate to see what losing looks like."
Ava's grin faltered. She didn't know Deborah could hear her.
She had been touching herself on the bus for months, and if anything, she had gotten quieter recently, unable to reach climax with all the stuff going on in her head. It meant that her boss had waited…deliberately sat on this. Deborah wasn't someone that would've held onto this. She would've teased her employee about it the next morning.
Had there been a reason to wait?
Had she liked listening?
She tilted her head slightly, her hand still on Deborah's leg, sliding higher, more daring. What could it hurt? Another night without an orgasm in her bunk. "Losing?" Ava chuckled softly. "You'd know all about that, wouldn't you? I mean, how many divorces are you up to now? Three?"
Deborah's eyes flared, but instead of pulling away or snapping back with another jab, she did something Ava wasn't expecting. She laughed. Not a bitter or mocking laugh, but one filled with genuine amusement. The kind that told Ava she wasn't the only one playing this game.
"Oh, honey, you're not wrong," Deborah said, her voice still smooth but with an edge that hinted at something darker. "But the difference between you and me? I always come out on top. Always."
Ava rolled her eyes, though her pulse quickened at the subtle challenge in Deborah's words. She was used to this — the back-and-forth, the constant push-and-pull between them. "Yeah, sure," Ava said, her tone dismissive, but her hands betrayed her, moving with more purpose as they slipped up Deborah's thighs. "Keep telling yourself that while I'm the one down here making all your dreams come true." She shot Deborah a wink, her fingers so light now that she could claim she was just moving and not purposefully tracing the hem of Deborah's expensive, form-fitting dress.
Deborah's lips twitched, but she didn't move. She didn't flinch or stand up. Instead, her legs parted just that much more, barely perceptive but enough that Ava was able to see the light pink lace out of the corner of her. The older woman's voice dropped to a near whisper, her breath warm against Ava's cheek as she leaned as close as possible. "Dreams? Sweetie, I dream bigger than you could ever imagine. And trust me — you're not even close to being the star ofthose."
"Oh yeah?" Ava asked, raising an eyebrow as her hand slipped higher, just beneath the fabric of Deborah's dress, teasing, but still leaving enough distance to drive her wild. She made sure to rock back on her heals a little, pretending this was all to stabilize herself as she was still knelt on her haunches. "Well, I guess I'll have to work harder to be part of your twisted fantasies. Because right now?" She grinned, leaning in closer enough to brush her lips against Deborah's ear. "I think I'm exactly where you want me."
Deborah's breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. If anything, she leaned into Ava's touch, just enough to let her know she wasn't immune to the tension between them. But Deborah Vance wasn't one to give up control. Not without a fight.
"Maybe," Deborah said, her voice smooth, but there was a sharpness to it, a challenge. "Or maybe I'm just waiting to see how long it takes before you realize you're playingwayout of your league."
Ava chuckled softly, her hand sliding even higher, her touch firmer, more deliberate now. "Out of my league? Deborah, please. If anything, I'm slumming it just to keep things interesting."
Deborah laughed again, the sound low and throaty, filled with both amusement and something else Ava couldn't quite place. "Oh, honey," Deborah whispered, her hand reaching out to cup Ava's chin, tilting her face up so their eyes met, their lips just a breath apart. "You should be grateful I even let you play at all."
Ava's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest. There it was again — that spark of something dangerous, something thrilling. But instead of backing down, Ava leaned in, her lips brushing against Deborah's in the faintest of kisses, teasing, testing the waters.
This was dangerous.
This was that line that couldn't be uncrossed.
"I'm not playing, Deb," Ava whispered against her lips, her voice steady despite the wild thrum of adrenaline coursing through her veins. "I never was."
For a moment, everything was still.
It was like the moment when Deborah had slapped her. When there was so much tension between them something had to give.
This time it wasn't going to end in a slap.
The only sound in the room was the soft hum of the vanity lights and their breathing, shallow and uneven. Deborah's hand moved, her fingers tightening on Ava's chin, her eyes searching Ava's face for... something. But before Ava could decipher what it was, Deborah's lips crashed against hers.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't soft, or hesitant, or anything resembling caution. It was fierce, demanding, and filled with all the pent-up frustration and desire that had been building between them for months. Deborah kissed like she lived — with full control, without apology, and always on her terms.
Ava responded instantly, her body pressing against Deborah's and off of her knees so that they were both pulled up into a standing position. The kiss was electric, every nerve in Ava's body lighting up like a string of fireworks. It wasn't soft or tentative; it was raw, fierce, the kind of kiss that could leave bruises. Deborah tasted like the remnants of expensive wine and a hint of something sweet — maybe the lipstick she used before stepping on stage. The combination hit Ava like a shot of adrenaline straight to the heart.
Their mouths moved together in a heated frenzy, tongues sliding and clashing as if both were battling for control they neither were willing to give up. Ava's grip tightened on Deborah's hips, her fingers digging into the soft, silky fabric of the dress that clung to Deborah like a second skin. The thin material bunched under her hands, creasing as she pulled Deborah impossibly close, until their bodies were flush, every inch of Ava's frame pressed firmly against Deborah's in a way that felt both intimate and reckless.
Deborah's lips were demanding, moving with purpose, her teeth grazing Ava's lower lip just hard enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain through her body. Ava gasped, the sharp sensation mixing with the heat building between them. Deborah's hands were everywhere at once — on her hips, her waist, sliding up her back and tangling into her hair with a firm, possessive grip that left no room for hesitation.
The younger woman's hands roamed up her boss's back, feeling the curve of her spine through the thin material of her dress. The warmth of Deborah's skin seeped through the fabric, adding fuel to the already raging fire inside Ava. She wanted more — needed more. Every brush of Deborah's lips against hers, every graze of her tongue sent a new wave of desire crashing through her, pooling low in her belly and making her knees feel weak. Perhaps she should've stayed on her knees.
She'd surely end up there in the end.
Deborah shifted, her body pressing even harder against Ava's, pinning her against the edge of the vanity. The mirror rattled slightly from the force, but neither of them noticed. Deborah's hands were rough but controlled, sliding down Ava's sides before gripping her waist with a pressure that was just on the right side of painful, sending sparks shooting down Ava's spine. Deborah's fingers dug into her flesh, possessive and commanding, as if to say,I own you now.
Deborah's hands moved again, sliding up Ava's arms and back to her neck, her fingers threading through Ava's hair. The grip was firm, insistent, pulling her closer until their lips were crushed together, their breaths mingling in frantic gasps between kisses.
Ava groaned against Deborah's mouth, her hands slipping lower to Deborah's waist, fingers sliding beneath the hem of the dress and brushing against the soft, heated skin of Deborah's thighs. The simple act of touching her like this, feeling her, was intoxicating, a heady rush that made Ava feel dizzy with need.
Deborah pulled back just enough to speak, her lips brushing against Ava's as she whispered, "You always think you're so clever, don't you?"
Ava barely had time to respond before Deborah's mouth was on hers again, fiercer this time, as though the words themselves were a challenge. The redhead hands slid higher, bunching up Deborah's dress as they moved, her fingers now gripping the soft flesh of Deborah's thighs just under her panties. The sensation of Deborah's skin under her palms, warm and smooth, sent another pulse of heat straight through her.
Deborah's fingers tightened in Ava's hair, pulling her head back just enough to break the kiss. She looked down at Ava with a smirk, her eyes dark with something between amusement and lust. "You might have your little victories," Deborah murmured, her voice low and sultry, "but you're still in my world."
Ava's breath hitched at the sound of Deborah's voice, rough and commanding, her words sending a fresh wave of desire rushing through her veins and a flood of wetness to her panties. She knew they were ruined.
"Maybe," Ava breathed, her voice shaky but defiant, her fingertips brushing the heated delicate lace of Deborah's underwear. She could feel how much the other woman wanted her. "But I've already got you exactly where I want you."
The older woman. laugh was soft, almost a purr, as she leaned in, her lips hovering just above Ava's, teasing her with their closeness. "Oh, sweetheart," Deborah whispered, her breath warm against Ava's lips, "you don't even know what you've started."
Before Ava could respond, Deborah's lips were on hers again, but this time the kiss was slower, more deliberate. It wasn't the frantic clash of tongues and teeth from earlier; it was a slow burn, a build-up of heat that threatened to consume them both. Deborah kissed her like she was savoring every second, every taste, her tongue sliding over Ava's in languid strokes that left Ava trembling.
It was in the soft sensual kissing that the blonde made her move, without warning, shoving her hands into Ava's oversized, baggy jeans, her fingers slipping easily past the loose waistband and finding soft cotton below. Hanes classic ten-pack. Not exactly what the younger woman would have worn if she had planned this.
This definitely wasn't part of the plan.
Not that she hadn't dreamed about it nearly every night.
"Deborah—" Ava barely managed, her voice a mix of shock and need, her breath catching in her throat as Deborah's hands moved to over her fabric covered clit. The sensation was dizzying, an electric current racing along Ava's spine.
"Looks like I have you exactly whereIwant you," Deborah's voice was low, a growl against Ava's ear. Her lips brushed against Ava's neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make Ava shudder.
Ava couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her lips, her body responding to Deborah's words, to the way her hands moved with practiced ease on her swollen fabric covered clit, teasing, tantalizing. Ava's head swam, her heart pounding in her chest as Deborah's touch ignited something primal inside her.
Suddenly, the older woman's fingers pushed Ava's underwear to the side, her nails grazing her skin on the way that was both too much and not enough all at once. Ava's breath hitched, her pulse quickening, her body arching into Deborah's touch, craving more, craving everything.
"Is this what you wanted, Ava?" Deborah whispered against her ear, her voice a low, sultry drawl. Her fingers pressed hard against Ava's wet, slippery clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her with every swipe. "Tell me."
Ava's hands gripped Deborah's hips, her nails digging in where they rested under her bunched up fabric, trying to anchor herself against the overwhelming wave of sensation. Her heart was racing, her body trembling under Deborah's relentless touch, but she managed to find her voice, though it came out in a breathless, shaky whisper. "Yes—God, yes."
Deborah chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound that sent another shiver down Ava's spine. "Good girl," she murmured, her lips brushing against Ava's jaw as her fingers slid to her entrance, circling it with deliberate, calculated precision that left Ava gasping.
The world around them seemed to blur, the only thing grounding Ava was the heat of Deborah's body against hers and the relentless, teasing movements of her hands. Deborah was in control now, her every touch a masterclass in seduction, and Ava was powerless against it — powerless, and loving every second of it.
Deborah's fingers explored with an unhurried confidence, every movement slow and deliberate, dipping in and out of the younger woman, designed to draw out Ava's every reaction. Her lips followed, tracing the curve of Ava's neck, planting hot, open-mouthed kisses against her skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. Some of the open-mouthed kisses had teeth, enough to send a sharp pain, but not enough to make Ava think they would leave a mark. Not that she would care if that happened.
"You act like you're so in control," Deborah whispered against her skin, her voice dripping with smug amusement as her fingers teased just inside her while her palm ground lightly into her clit. "But look at you now."
Ava's body trembled, her head spinning from the mix of pleasure and frustration building inside her. Her hands gripped Deborah's shoulders tighter, pulling her closer, desperate for more. "Just—" she started, but her voice cracked, unable to form the words, lost in the haze of desire clouding her mind.
Deborah smiled against her neck, her breath warm against Ava's skin. "Just what?" she asked, her voice teasing, taunting. "You're going to have to be more specific, sweetheart."
Ava's heart pounded, her pulse thundering in her ears as she tried to find her voice, tried to push past the dizzying rush of pleasure to say something, anything. But all she could do was gasp as Deborah's fingers finally dipped further inside, curling into her with a firmness that left no room for pretense, no room for denial.
Ava's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips.
"That's it," Deborah murmured, her voice soft but commanding, her fingers moving with expert precision. "Let go, Ava. Let me hear you."
Ava's breath hitched, her body trembling as the pressure built inside her. Her thighs trembled. If it wasn't for the dresser, she would have probably collapsed to her knees, taking Deborah with her. She needed to touch her, to fill her.
Ava's hands fumbled at Deborah's dress, trying to pull her closer, trying to find some semblance of control in the overwhelming storm of sensation. But Deborah was in charge now, her touch commanding, her every movement precise and deliberate, designed to drive Ava to the edge and then push her even further.
"Come on, Ava," Deborah whispered, her voice low and sultry, her breath hot against Ava's ear. "I know you can give me more."
Ava gasped, her body trembling under Deborah's touch, her mind lost in the haze of pleasure building inside her. She was close, so close, her body teetering on the edge, every nerve alight, every muscle tight with anticipation.
And then, just as she was about to fall over that edge, Deborah pulled back, her fingers stilling, no longer curling inside her, leaving Ava hanging in the balance, desperate for more.
Ava let out a frustrated moan, her hips shifting, seeking the release that was just out of reach. "Deborah, please—"
Deborah chuckled softly, her lips brushing against Ava's neck as she whispered, "Patience, darling. You didn't think I'd let you have it that easily, did you? I want to hear you beg."
Ava's breath caught in her throat, her body thrumming with anticipation as Deborah's words settled over her like a warm, suffocating blanket. Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first, but the other woman's fingers stayed maddeningly still, just hovering, teasing against her skin, while her lips ghosted over her neck, soft, fleeting, enough to drive her wild with need but not nearly enough to satisfy.
Deborah pulled back slightly, just enough to look Ava in the eyes, her own gaze dark with a mix of amusement and desire. "What's the matter?" she asked, her voice low, dripping with that same teasing edge she always had when she knew she had the upper hand. "Cat got your tongue?"
Ava swallowed hard, her pulse racing, her body screaming for more. She could feel her pride warring with the burning need inside her, and for a brief moment, she thought about pushing back, about giving Deborah some smart-ass remark to keep the banter going. But as Deborah's lips moved in and brushed ever so lightly over her pulse point for a second, her body trembled, and the words she wanted to say crumbled into dust.
"Deborah..." Ava breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper. She hated how desperate she sounded, but there was no stopping it now. Her body was betraying her, and Deborah knew it.
Deborah smiled, a slow, satisfied smile that made Ava's stomach twist with a mix of frustration and desire. "Come on, Ava," Deborah murmured, her lips so close to Ava's ear that her breath sent a shiver down her spine. "You're going to have to do better than that."
Ava's hands pulled at the band of Deborah's lacy panties, trying to keep some semblance of control. But Deborah's touch, her voice, the way her body pressed against hers — it was too much. Ava knew she was unraveling, her resolve slipping away with every second that passed.
"Please," Ava finally whispered, her voice barely audible, her pride taking a hit as the word left her lips. But she didn't care anymore. She needed Deborah's touch, needed her to stop teasing, to give her what her body was screaming for.
Deborah's smile widened, and Ava could feel the satisfaction radiating off of her. "That's better," Deborah whispered, her fingers moving ever so slight inside Ava, still teasing, still holding back. "But I want to hear you beg, Ava. Really beg."
She had never really begged another woman in bed in her life, least of all from someone like Deborah. The others had been part of a game where she still felt like she was topping from the bottom.
This wasn't one of those times.
But right now, with the heat building between them, with the way Deborah's hands were driving her to the brink of madness, she didn't care about pride. She didn't care about winning or losing. She just wanted more.
"Deborah, please..." Ava gasped, her voice breaking, the desperation clear in every syllable. "Please, I need you...I need you to make me come."
Deborah's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, her grip tightening ever so slightly as her lips brushed against Ava's ear once more. "That's more like it," she murmured, her voice low, sultry, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through Ava's veins.
And then, finally, mercifully, Deborah's fingers curled as she set a steady rhythm that sent a shockwave of pleasure through her body. Ava gasped, her head falling back against the vanity, her body arching into Deborah's touch, her mind spinning from the intensity of it all.
"You're so easy to read," Deborah whispered against Ava's skin, her voice dripping with that same smug amusement. "You always try to act so tough, but when it comes down to it, you're just a needy little thing, aren't you?"
Ava moaned, her body trembling as Deborah's words sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over her. She could feel the tension building inside her, a coil tightening in her belly with every slow, wildly, powerful stroke of Deborah's fingers. She was close, so close, and Deborah knew it.
"You're going to come for me, aren't you?" Deborah whispered, her lips trailing down Ava's neck, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweat that had begun to form on her skin. "I can feel it. You're right there."
Ava's breath hitched, her body tensing, her mind racing as the pressure built inside her, ready to explode. "Deborah, I—" But before she could finish, Deborah's fingers pressed harder, faster, sending her spiraling over the edge in a rush of heat and pleasure.
Ava's body convulsed, her back arching, her hands gripping Deborah's shoulders so tightly her knuckles turned white. She let out a loud cry, her body shaking as the wave of pleasure crashed over her, leaving her gasping, trembling, utterly undone.
Deborah held her through it, her touch steady, her lips pressing soft kisses against Ava's neck, her breath warm and comforting as Ava came down from the high. Ava's body sagged against the vanity, her chest heaving, her skin flushed and damp with sweat, her mind still spinning from the intensity of it all.
"Aren't you glad you begged now?" Deborah murmured against her ear, her voice low, soft, but still with that edge of amusement. "Better than those pitiful moans from your bunk, at least."
Ava let out a breathless laugh, her head falling back as she blinked up at the ceiling, trying to gather what little composure she had left. Her body was still buzzing, her mind barely able to form a coherent thought, but Deborah's words snapped something playful back into focus.
"Yeah, well..." Ava started, her voice still shaky but laced with that familiar sass. "I bet I'd get a lot more sleep if I wasn't in thatbunkand, you know, in your bed instead." She shot Deborah a sideways glance, her lips curling into a mischievous grin, even as she struggled to catch her breath.
Deborah snorted, pulling back just enough to meet Ava's gaze, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, her voice rich with mock sympathy as she reached out and lightly traced her fingers along Ava's jawline. "Keep dreaming."
Ava laughed again, this time a little more steady, though the sound still came out in a breathless gasp. "You never know," she teased, tilting her head back, letting her hair fall across the vanity as she watched Deborah with that glint in her eyes. "You could always feel the need tobeg."
Deborah leaned in, her lips brushing Ava's one last time, the kiss soft, teasing, and undeniably final. "Not likely," she whispered, her tone firm but with that unmistakable spark of affection lurking beneath the surface. "But I'll keep you around for the laughs."
Ava smirked, a lazy, satisfied grin settling on her lips as she slouched back against the vanity, still riding the high of everything that had just happened. "You better. Who else is going to keep you on your toes?"
Deborah chuckled, smoothing down her dress as she turned away, her sharp eyes glancing back over her shoulder with a smirk of her own. "Go clean yourself up, Ava," she said, her tone back to its usual commanding self, though there was a softness in her gaze that hadn't been there before. "You're not getting sweat all over my dressing room."
Added several new explicit FREE one-shots at our blog (fictioneers)(.thinkific)(.comm)(/pages/new-updates) - remove the second m in comm.