South Street After Dark

In some nameless South Street bar--where the music was too loud, the floors too sticky, and the bouncer too indifferent--Mary Louise Russo, with her dyed blonde hair and unapologetic black roots showing, was trying not to spill her Long Island iced tea.

Not an easy task, considering she was perched on the sink in the ladies' room, thighs parted, skirt pushed up just enough to be dangerous.

Between them?

Rachel Goldstein. Compact and built like a boxer, with toned arms and legs that flexed with every subtle movement, all wrapped in the kind of confidence that could make a girl forget her own name.

Standing. Smirking. One hand on Mary Louise's bare knee, the other stealing her drink, taking a slow sip before pressing their mouths together again.

"Tastes better off your tongue," Rachel muttered, licking into her mouth, the burn of liquor mixing with something hotter, filthier.

Mary Louise huffed a laugh, gripping Rachel's belt loops, yanking her closer. "That the best line you got?"

Rachel grinned, dark curls tousled from Mary Louise's fingers, the sharp cut of her jaw catching the dim bathroom light, her grin full of trouble. sliding her hands up Mary Louise's thighs, teasing her, dragging nails just enough to make her shiver.

"Babe," Rachel murmured, kissing the words against her jaw, "you are way too hot to be talkin' shit right now."

Mary Louise bit her lip, trying not to moan, trying not to tip her drink, failing at both.

Rachel laughed, taking the glass again, lifting it to her own lips. "Shoulda got you somethin' in a shorter glass, huh?"

Mary Louise rolled her eyes, panting just a little, her body thrumming from the heat between them, the steady pressure of Rachel pressed right where she needed her.

"Shut up and drink, Goldstein."

Rachel smirked, obeying.

And outside?

Beyond that that door?

The city hummed on, the bass from the bar pounding through the walls, the sidewalks alive with shouting, laughter, chaos, bad decisions.

Rachel grinned.

That slow, dangerous grin that Mary Louise knew too well--the kind that meant she was about to get exactly what she wanted.

And what Rachel wanted?

Pussy.

Rachel Goldstein fucking loved pussy.

Never even seen a cock in person. Never had the desire to. Never had the curiosity. She was a dyke through and through, and right now, she was looking at Mary Louise Russo like a goddamn meal.

Mary Louise tilted her head, reading the look instantly, her pulse jumping, thighs clenching around Rachel's hips.

"Oh," she breathed, smirking, "you want some, huh?"

Rachel licked her lips. "You know I do."

Mary Louise bit her lip, heart pounding, already throbbing at the thought of Rachel's mouth on her.

Then Rachel chuckled, dark and teasing, dragging her nails up the inside of Mary Louise's thighs.

"I hope you shaved tonight."

Mary Louise laughed, tipping her head back, heat sparking through her veins.

"Guess you'll have to find out, babe."

Rachel's grin widened.

And then she went to her knees.

Mary Louise watched, breath catching, fingers tensing around her glass as Rachel slid her hands up her thighs, dark eyes locked onto hers.

Rachel loved this.

Loved pussy. Loved the power of it. Loved how fucking easy it was to wreck a girl with just her mouth.

And Mary Louise?

Mary Louise was already wrecked.

She took a slow sip of her Long Island, legs spread just enough, skirt bunched up around her hips, Rachel's fingers teasing at the edge of her panties.

"Mmm," Rachel hummed, dragging her nails lightly over her skin. "You are smooth, babe."

Mary Louise grinned, licking the rim of her glass, already breathless. "Told you so."

Rachel bit her lip, smirking, nails digging in just a little, just enough to make Mary Louise squirm.

"I could ruin you right now," Rachel murmured, voice low, warm, teasing. "Right here. Right now. You'd be loud as fuck, too. Bet they'd hear you all the way at the bar."

Mary Louise giggled, but it came out shaky, her fingers tangling in Rachel's dark curls, pulling her closer.

"Babe, I will pour this drink on you if you don't stop talking and do something."

Rachel snorted, nuzzling against the inside of her thigh, biting softly, sucking a mark just to be a menace.

"Mmm, maybe I like hearing you beg first."

Mary Louise groaned, throwing her head back, her drink sloshing dangerously in her grip.

"Rachel, I swear to fuckin' God--"

Rachel laughed, kissing her way higher--slow, teasing, taking her time, savoring the way Mary Louise trembled beneath her.

Mary Louise gasped, shuddered, clenching her fingers tight in Rachel's hair.

Rachel smirked.

"Just a taste, babe."

And then--

She licked.

And outside?

The city roared.

When they finally emerged from the bathroom, the bar erupted. Carrie Delvecchio--wearing a too-tight Eagles jersey, drink in one hand, smirk on her lips--was the first to start clapping. Zach was grinning, shaking his head. Anna Whitmore, ever composed, merely adjusted her glasses and took a sip of her wine, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Took ya long enough," Carrie called, laughing. "Whole goddamn bar heard you. Pretty sure South Philly did too."

Mary Louise, flushed and unsteady, just threw up her middle finger.

Rachel? Rachel just smirked, wiped the corner of her mouth, and drained the rest of Mary Louise's drink.