Chapter Three
"Cordelia Jones..." Samantha reclines in a corner booth, twirling her drink in her hand and washing her face with an amused and knowing smile.
"Yes," Annette breathes out, scanning the rest of the tavern around them.
"Every morning, you wake up to cook and clean and await the beck and call of
Cordelia Jones
," she smirks, nodding for Annette to scoot closer to her in the booth seat. They're tucked away in the corner of the bar at the Fleeting Faery, partially out of sight from the counter where Bill would be ready to scold them at any moment. "I can hardly imagine what that must be like."
"It's... it's interesting."
Cordelia had hardly spoken to Annette for the past few days, only offering blunt orders and occasional critique of her behavior. It was tense around 167th Mill Street, and Annette is eager to spend as much of her time off outside of the home as she possibly can to escape the powder box. It's difficult to unsee the fearsome look in Cordelia's eyes when her pride is threatened, and Annette is ashamed to have so sorely misjudged it. She feels foolish for letting herself grow comfortable with how she spoke to her owner.
"Baker and Jones," Samantha giggles, "off solving every little crime in our city! Vagabonds and thieves, beware!"
"I don't help her with her cases," Annette sighs, crossing her knees together and glaring at the floor. "She hates it when people interfere with her work."
"So she was lying, then?"
"Yes."
"Pity," Samantha sits back further, lifting an arm on the backrest of the couch, hovering just above Annette's shoulders. "I found the idea of you being so clever to be quite an attractive look, dear."
"You could have helped me more," Annette mutters, her displeasure slowly retreating as Samantha's other hand drifts down to her knees.
"I would have, if it had come to it," she promises, though Annette is hardly sure she believes it. "I always strive to be the voice of reason in all things."
"Is
that
why you were so quiet when they plotted my assasination?"
"It's only an assasination if the target is of public prominence," Samantha smirks. "For you it would simply be collateral damage."
"That makes me feel much better," Annette rolls her eyes.
"Come now," Samantha pulls her closer, and Annette's heart flutters as she's caught up into her arms. "I would never allow such a delightful girl like you to come to any harm, dear. I have too many plans for you..."
"Oh?"
"I couldn't bear it if none of them came to fruition."
Annette can hardly resist her attention. With each passing day she can feel her desperation build slowly, aching for the touch of a beautiful woman like Samantha. She knew it even as she carefully meandered her way over to the bar tonight that her defenses were in shambles. With each sip of beer she accepts the longing possibility of what the woman so constantly promised her.
"And what might these plans be?" She asks, letting her body press even more into hers and encourage her attention.
"They begin here..." Samantha's hand on the couch drifts to the side of Annette's head, softly brushing through her hair. "Where you are helpless to deny my desires..."
"Indeed? I wasn't aware you possessed such power over me."
"Don't I?"
The hand on her thigh creeps inwards, the warmth of her palm through Annette's soft dress leaving her flustered and excited. Annette glances quickly at the bar counter, excited to see Bill was distracted and conversing with some other patron. Another quick look confirms its Mrs. Tellingham, easily chatty enough to keep him occupied for enough time to get away with plenty of mischief.
Annette's breaths speed up and she feels each one puff out of her nose hungrily, yearning to feel Samantha's lips on hers. "Perhaps you do," she concedes. "What then?"
"Then... I watch as you give into my charms, swept away by your need for me," she brings Annette even closer to her, sending a thrilling tremor through her chest. "You tell me you'll do anything...
anything...
to please me, and I reply that I have high standards..."
Annette flushes, and the warmth spreads all across her body, jittery from nerves and excitement. She glances again at the bar counter, once again delighted to see Bill has yet to notice their advances.
"Tell me you will..." Samantha coos softly.
Annette gives in easily. "I'll do anything to please you."
"Good girl..." Samantha mewls. "I have high standards..."
"I will endeavor to meet them."
"Tell me you want me to kiss you."
Annette exhales excitedly. "I want you to kiss me."
Samantha's hand lowers down to her cheek, brushing a thumb over her cheekbone and caressing her face softly. She leans forward, bridging the gap between them and kissing Annette gently. She slowly increases her pressure as Annette gives in easily, kissing her back with an eagerness she was almost embarrassed by. Her body comes alive at Samantha's touch and it quickly becomes difficult to resist the urge not to climb on top of Samantha and...
Samantha breaks away quickly, removing her hands and reclining casually onto the couch, ensuring there's a polite distance between the two. Annette is briefly disappointed, but the feeling is replaced by a flash of fear as she notices a police officer strolling into the bar, baton in hand. Annette scoots back from Samantha as well, occupying her hands with her drink and feeling grateful they were tucked away in the corner, far from the door.
The officer strolls into the room, twirling his baton in circles across his palm, a clear and casual threat. He makes his way over to Bill at the bar counter, leaning across it and snapping for Bill to serve him while the room falls dangerously quiet.
"Can I help you, Officer?" Bill mutters, filling a mug with some beer and placing it on the counter in front of him.
"Just keeping the peace," the officer gives him a vile grin. He grabs the mug, leaning his back into the counter and gazing out across the room. "Why's it so quiet in here? There's no need to stop the action on my account."