~a/n: sorry for all the mistakes in my last story and potentially in this one. This is fully just self-indulgent on my part, so ty for reading <3
toni and sam again, but no sex in this one. So so sorry, but im a slut for a slow burn
"If I buy one more jumpsuit, stop me."
"Asteria, respectfully, if you buy another jumpsuit, I'm legally obligated to euthanize you."
Asteria cackles in response as the two of them pause in the window of some store Otonia doesn't make enough money to shop at, even in her best months, looking at one of the worst jumpsuits she's has ever seen in her life.
"That's cold, Toni. You'd really do that to your beloved twin?"
Toni gives her a look. "I'd do much more for much less. You remember how many of my shirts you destroyed with your fucking pens in high school?"
"Yeah, yeah. You can steal one of my jumpsuits if you want."
Toni rolls her eyes but the two of them snicker and move away from the storefront with the hideous romper. The mall they stopped at is one of those indoor/outdoor spots, full of upscale stores and nauseating clouds of perfume and general luxury, but being here in the middle of a weekday thinned out the crowd much more.
Sam left early for a meeting (looking suspiciously well-dressed and smelling delicious for a work lunch, especially one at a cozy little restaurant that Toni made the reservation for, but she doesn't care) which meant Toni met her sister for a last-minute run to get last minute odds and ends for their little--and only--brother's upcoming wedding, as well as a new dress for an upcoming appointment on Toni's calendar.
The mall was a nice distraction anyway from certain six-foot-tall thoughts.
So what if Sam had reservations for two at a restaurant she knows they like? So what if they went there dressed like a fucking snack, delicious forearms exposed and everything--which they should really cover up, honestly; the blackwork tattoos and sinew of their muscles is too much to expose everyone to. But it's not like it's Toni's business.
Unfortunately, it would become her business if Sam returned to the office smelling like another woman, as Toni couldn't be held responsible for any violence that ensued because of it.
Again,
not
that it's her business, nor is it her place. It's just a little workplace crush, she's been telling herself. A little workplace crush that she sometimes fantasizes about. A little workplace crush on her hot boss that smells mouthwateringly delicious.
Okay, so it's been something she's working on, clearly. Her first hurdle has been not throwing herself at Sam every day--after practically shoving her tits in their face and having the most intense kiss of her life, Toni didn't have high hopes, but Sam hasn't initiated anything else. And she sure as fuck wouldn't be doing it again. She's berated herself for it fort he three months that she's been working with Sam, though it seems more out of restraint on Sam's behalf than regret. Regardless, normally, that would be enough. Otonia's never been one to be encouraged by someone's disinterest.
Normally, though, she can't see their interest, practically taste it on her tongue. Normally, she can't see their nostrils flare, can't see the way their gaze lingers on her with a little too much heat for a little too long, can't hear the way her name leaves their mouth like it's both a sin and the most holy thing they'd ever tasted. But Sam is naturally flirtatious, which was proving to make her life very difficult.
It's not even as though she has any right to be territorial over Sam. No, especially not when she was still entwined with her side-hustle. Just another month, she's been telling herself for the last three months.
So she needed out of the office, away from their clean sandalwood smell, away from her own mess of pheromones that were probably slutting up the place more than she could ever be aware of. Her sister is the exact kind of easy company that she's been craving. The fresh air helps, too, as does the bougie coffee and pastries Asteria promised her after she'd had the opportunity to go into some store for rednecks and lesbians, which Toni politely declined the invitation to.
After closing and reopening her doomscroll app of choice several times, all of her senses alight at once when a familiar, broad-shouldered shape blocks the sun. Her heart kicks into her throat as she looks up at the very person she was trying
not
to think about.
Sam is no less devastating than they were at the office. They stand there, hands in their pockets, sideways grin slung across their face, with the sun at their back lighting them up like a fucking god. Her mouth goes dry.
"Miss Faust," Sam grins, all deep and rough-voiced. There's a whiff of perfume that she catches with Sam's proximity, something sharp and floral, and she has to intentionally relax her grip on her phone before she breaks the screen.
"Hi, Sam," Toni says, somewhere between professional and flirtatious. "Don't tell me you ditched your reservation to come to the mall."
"After all the work you put into it? I wouldn't dream of it." She knows they mean it, too; it took some very sweet persuasion to the hostess that answered the phone, but it paid off to see Sam's pleasure. Even if it was a date, and even if it her stomach sour. "You know, we're really going to have to have a conversation about your attendance if you don't start taking your position more seriously."
In any other context, with any other person, the threat might've made her stomach drop. In the three months since she's started, Sam's chided her countless times for her workaholic tendencies, often strong-arming her into leaving on time--early, if they can swing it--rather than well into the evening. It's not her fault that Bianca was leaving behind quite a legacy.
The thought of a meeting regarding, ah,
discipline
with Sam almost makes her whimper, though. Bent over their desk, relentlessly stretching her pussy around thick tattooed fingers, making her orgasm until she wept; bent over their lap, squirming and ass sore and red from spanking. Heat strikes her core directly.
Fucking hell.
Toni swallows and wets her lips, shifting in her seat while she shrugs her shoulders in a smooth roll, affecting a casual air. Or what she hopes is casual. "None of my references told you I'm an incredibly difficult employee with an attitude and attendance problem?"
Sam laughs, the noise rough and low and sending a shiver down her spine that she barely represses. Their mouth opens to reply but both of them are drawn up short by Sam's name being called.
It's a shame, really, that Toni is being driven to homicide against another woman. One so beautiful at that. She takes solidarity seriously, and as a lesbian, it's especially painful. The woman that comes to stand next to Sam is beautiful and sharp eyed, somewhere between Toni and Sam's heights, with a dark bob of curls framing her face.
"Sammy, c'mon, I finally figured out the map."
Sammy.
Sam looks...embarrassed?
Good
