I was standing in front of the mirror when Laura got home. Our eyes met in the mirror as I put on my earrings, and she bent down to leave her briefcase next to the door. She wore a charcoal gray suit with matching vest, a navy blue tie and a sky blue shirt. Her dark brown hair was secured in a tight bun. She crossed the floor in bare feet, and I knew her shoes were lying next to the love seat downstairs.
"Good evening," she whispered. She kissed my neck and ran her tongue over the shell of my ear. I shuddered and pressed back against her, dressed only in my strapless black bra, black panties and stockings. She put her hands on my hips and looked at my reflection in the mirror. "Is this what you're wearing this evening? Because I may dress to match."
I smiled and said, "No. You're not as late as I led you to believe." I turned in her arms and said, "We have an hour." Her left eyebrow went up and I shook my head. "An hour that includes you showering and getting dressed and driving to the house. Behave." I angled my head toward her and she kissed my lips. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and her hands moved down to my ass. I felt her fingers through the material of my panties and I suddenly regretted shooting her down so completely.
When she broke the kiss, she moved her lips along my cheek to whisper in my ear. "Leave the panties here." She sniffed my neck, taking a moment to appreciate my perfume, and then slipped away. In the bathroom doorway, she shrugged out of her suit jacket. Something about the back of her shirt, the wrinkles in her vest, turned me on. She turned to close the door, saw me watching her, and smiled.
I waved my fingers at her, looked at my reflection in the mirror, and slid my panties down my legs and kicked them away.
#
The resort was lit up like a fortress in the woods, coming into view as we rounded a curve on the dirt road. I handed the keys over to the valet and gathered my shawl around my shoulders. I wore a wine-colored dress with thin shoulder straps, cut low on the chest and high on the leg. Laura put her arm through mine and pulled me close. Her hair was down, resting on her shoulders. She had changed into a dark black suit. The two halves of the jacket parted just enough to reveal the lace at the top of her blue camisole.
A discreet sign pointed us toward a cobblestone walkway covered by an arched trellis. Ivy and tiny white fairy lights trailed through the latticework. We walked through the tunnel of lights and greenery and found a pair of open doors that led to a ballroom. A dozen people filled a room large enough for easily ten times that amount. A trio of chandeliers hung from the ceiling, accenting the flickering candlelight from sconces along the wall.
A man in a white tuxedo approached us with a smile. I reached into my purse and withdrew the invitation we'd received in the mail. The resort was newly renovated, and this was the first Christmas party held in the ballroom. The invitation was simple; the words 'Traditions have to start sometime' written in gold script, with the address, date and time written underneath.
I handed the invitation to the man, and he smiled. "Welcome to my resort, Ms. Seward."
I thanked him and he slipped away to deal with the next arrivals. I led Laura across the floor as the band played genteel dance music. A few couples swayed on the dance floor, but I felt awkward at the idea of dancing when there were so few guests. So we stood next to the refreshment table. I took a champagne flute, handed it to Laura, and watched as she tilted her head back and took a sip.
My eyes trailed over her throat, down to the wedge of her chest exposed by her jacket. When she turned toward me, I saw a bead of wetness on her upper lip. I reached out and wiped it away with my finger, and she sucked it into her mouth. Our eyes locked as she sucked gently, and a smile danced on her lips when I pulled my finger free.
We made the rounds of the room, pausing to talk to people Laura new from the practice. I smiled when introduced, idly listening to talk of work and cases. I sipped my champagne, dutifully draping my arm around hers as I scanned the room and tried to drown out her voice.
I spotted her first, a blonde with perfect Barbie doll features. Her eyes were wide and startled, blue as ice, and her lips were painted pale pink. Her blonde hair trailed down her back in a complex ponytail and, when she turned to look toward the refreshments, I saw that her pearl white dress dipped low enough to see the dimples above her rear end. I stood, transfixed by the line of her spine, and watched as she crossed the room. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and I took a slow sip of my champagne.
"Laura," I said softly. She turned and looked at me. "I need a refill."
"Oh," Laura said. She excused herself from her friends and led me across the room. I slid my hand down to hers and laced our fingers together. "I'm sorry if I was boring you," she said.
I smiled. "You never bore me. I just needed a refill."
We arrived at the refreshment table and I made sure Laura was between me and the blonde bombshell. Up close, her skin was even more flawless. She looked up as we approached, gave us a shy smile, and moved to one side to give us more room. Laura immediately took in the woman's bare arms, her small breasts and the gentle slope of her spine. I knew that look well; it was the look that meant Laura was picturing you naked, tangled in sheets, arching up into an orgasm. Preferably one she had caused herself.
Laura held out her hand. "Laura Sanchez," she said. "This is my partner, Lynn Seward."
"Pleasure to meet you," the woman said. Her voice had a thick accent, but it was clear she was fluent in the language. She took Laura's hand, squeezing the fingers gently. "Katya Martynova."
"A beautiful name," Laura said. She kept Katya's hand in hers and said, "So what do you do, Katya?"
I put my hand in the small of Laura's back and she turned to look at me. I smiled, dipped my chin, and stepped away from the table. Laura watched me go, and then turned to focus on Katya again. I picked up another glass of champagne from the table and meandered deeper into the room. More guests had arrived, and I greeted faces familiar to me from work and from the newspaper.
Meghan, the resort's owner, was standing by the doors, and I took a moment to compliment her on how quickly the place had come together. Laura and I had been there a few times, weekend getaways from the urban sprawl, and we both adored the place. "It's still a work in progress," she said, "but I'm happy with it."
I danced with Helena Thompson, a paralegal from Laura's office I occasionally flirted with when I stopped by to have lunch with her, and we pecked lips when the song ended. "Is Laura here tonight?" she asked, her hands teasing the straps of my dress.
I knew what she was asking, so I smiled and kissed her again, longer this time. "Another night, maybe," I said.
She smiled. "I'm going to hold you to that."
We parted ways and I went in search of my love. The music had gotten louder, and the party was in full swing. I kept getting sidetracked by people who wanted to chat, but all I wanted was to dance with Laura. I needed to feel her in my arms, to hold her, sway with her. I reached the far end of the room without a sighting, turning to examine the room thinking I might have missed her. I thought perhaps she had persuaded Katya onto the dance floor.
I smiled at the thought. My dear Laura had a thing for exotic blondes, and Katya was definitely a prime example of that. I thought about her accent; definitely Slavic. I brought my champagne glass to my lips when I heard Laura's voice behind me. It was quiet, barely a whisper, but I knew that voice like a mother knows her child's footsteps. I turned and searched for the origin, taking a few steps toward it.
Most of the ballroom doors were closed, the rest of the building supposedly off-limits. But one set of doors was open a crack. I pushed it open far enough to see a dimly-lit hallway. Preparation tables for the caterers took up most of the space, but there were potted plants that I assumed were permanent installations. I stepped into the hall and moved behind one of the plants.
Laura was at the end of the hallway, framed by an arched window. In the glass, I could see Katya was standing in front of her, Laura's hands skimming up and down Katya's bare arms. Laura's head was bowed and she was speaking so low I could only hear a quiet murmur. Katya's eyes were wide, focused on the scenery outside, breathing hard. Her lips were parted and she gasped as Laura's hands moved to her breasts and squeezed them through her dress.
*"Leave the panties here,"* Laura's command from earlier in the night, and I smiled. I pressed my back against the wall, hoping the plant was large enough to hide me, and spread my feet apart. I inched my dress up over my thighs, watching as Laura pulled Katya tighter against her. They were both breathing hard now, and Laura gently bit Katya on the neck. I bit my lip to stifle a moan, and Katya's hand appeared on Laura's hip.
"We can't," Katya said, her voice barely a whisper but carried as an echo in the hallway. "You have a, a lover."
"We understand each other," Laura said. At that point, her eyes flicked up and seemed to find me in the reflection. I didn't know if she was looking at me or some object out in the lawn, but she kept the contact long enough that I knew she was trying to get a message through to me. I didn't want to speak, I didn't want to break the spell by letting her know for sure I was there. Eventually, Laura lowered her head and kissed Katya's neck.
Katya moaned something in another language and her fingers tightened on Laura's hip, fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. I held my dress out of the way with one hand, sliding the fingers of the other over my thigh. Up and down, gently brushing, teasing myself as I watched Laura explore the stranger's body in her arms.
Laura lifted Katya's dress and I saw a pair of dainty white panties, see-through lace. Laura cupped it with her palm and Katya gasped, arched her back, and I saw her nipples were hard against her dress. Damn the window and its fuzzy reflection; why couldn't Laura have done this in front of a mirror? Or, hell, as long as I'm wishing, why didn't she just bring Katya home and give me front row seats?
I ran one finger along my labia, gathering moisture, and resisted the urge to sigh. I knew that Laura was teasing as well, running two fingers back and forth over Katya's panties until it became too much. I closed my eyes and flashed back to the first time Laura had done that to me, sitting in her office. She was sitting on the desk, I was her client. Her foot, almost black in her stocking, eased my skirt out of the way, and I held my breath as it pressed between my legs. The look in her eyes, the question of whether she had gone too far, evaporating as I gripped the arms of the chair and rocked my hips against hers.
The two of us, fresh from court, fully dressed except for her right shoe. I fell in love with her right then and there, watching how aroused she got watching me come. Flirting with danger, having sex in her unlocked office. But even if someone had walked in, she could have just dropped her foot. No one would have been the wiser.