This Could Get Interesting

Maggie leans on the counter and peers at me through the hole of a key ring. She flashes me a smile and giggles. I try not to laugh, but she's too damn cute.

"Just one copy of each, ma'am?" The clerk asks.

I nod, "Yup. Thanks so much," I reach for the shiny new set but Maggie snatches it before I can even get close.

"Now I can come and go as I please!" She leans into me and kisses me. My lips are tight and she pulls back, looking at me and then at the clerk whose jaw is on the floor. "You're gonna catch flies that way," she laughs and saunters out of the store.

I catch up to her on the sidewalk, "What was that all about?"

She's admiring her keys, "Huh?"

"The whole PDA thing... I dunno,"

"You know, people don't care half as much about us kissing in public as you think they do," she winds the mail key onto her old keychain.

"I guess I just worry that it makes people uncomfortable,"

"I guess I just don't give a shit what people think about it," she snaps back.

We arrive back at my apartment and she takes her new keys for a spin, opening the mailbox and then the front door. I have a moment as I watch her plop down on the couch. I can see her suitcases in my room, still packed. It's too much too soon. Too bad Ethan isn't man enough to accept that his date fell for his sister instead of him. After he kicked her out for her supposed freeloading, I invited her to stay with me. I mean, she's here all the time anyway.

I walk to the kitchen and open the freezer. I pour an ice cold shot of vodka and take it. Then another.

"Whoa, baby. What's the occasion?"

"I'm just... taking it all in stride," I shiver as the burning in my throat subsides.

"Yeah, sorry about the mess. I'll get myself unpacked later today," she says flipping through my mail. "Hey, Peter Vaughn sent you a letter," she waves the envelope in the air.

My breath catches in my throat and I choke for a moment before tearing across the room. I snatch the envelope from her and stare at it a moment before nearly ripping the entire thing to shreds trying to open it.

Months ago I sent some of my work to Peter Vaughn in hopes that he would invite me to New York to work with him at his studio. Peter Vaughn films supermodels. He does marketing for the likes of Mercedes Benz, Givenchy, and Britney. And everything in between.

I jump up and down, squealing. Maggie jumps up and hugs me tight, "What are we so happy about?" She giggles.

I read the letter to myself.

Dear Audrey,

My sincere apologies for the lag in my response. It seems as though the work you sent to me fell into a pile of rubbish and I've only just seen it. You're incredibly talented, Audrey. I can see your passion in your work and vice versa. I'd love it if you would join me in New York for a couple of projects I've got going.

You'll be compensated handsomely provided we are pleased with the results. I'm not worried. I've enclosed my assistant's number. Please call her as soon as you receive this letter. She will take care of your flight and accommodations.

I do so look forward to working with you, Audrey.

Warmest Regards, PV

I stare at the phone number a moment before putting the letter down and placing my hands on either side of Maggie's face. She stares at me, wide-eyed. I lay a kiss on her that Clark Gable would admire, "Peter Vaughn has invited me to New York,"

"Oh, darling! I knew it! I told you you're marvelous," she kisses me.

"I have to call this assistant of his to work out the logistics. If they'll spring for it, would you join me?"

She nods, emphatically, "I'll see if I can get the time off at work!"

I place the call and a very proper - almost snooty - British woman answers. I give her my name and her tone changes very quickly. She explains to me that this wont be a weekend adventure. She says I will be there for a month if not longer. The hotel she books is extravagant. She allows me a guest at my request and books Maggie and I two first class tickets.

I'm literally in awe when we hang up. Tears well in my eyes and I say it. "Quit that stupid job and come live with me in New York for a month. We'll be taken care of and if I do well enough on whatever this project is, you won't have to work anymore. You can go on jobs with me. You can be my assistant or something. What do you think?"

She is speechless. This is a rare moment. She crosses the room and her lips lock tightly onto mine. Her hands fist in my hair and she pushes me against the wall. She moves quickly down my body, ripping my clothes from me. Her hands cup my breasts and she breathes against them as she kisses and bites her way to my thighs.

I'm on fire and absolutely overcome by emotion. Everything feels incredible and before I can move to the bed or couch, her mouth is on my clit. She's sucking the tiny, swollen button into her mouth and working it with her tongue. Her fingers find my g-spot and she massages it hard.

I'm grabbing at the wall behind me and praying that my knees don't buckle. She sucks on my pussy and moans hard against me. She pulls back sharply, letting my clit and lips fall from her mouth before sucking it all back in.

Her fingers are flying in and out of me now against the back wall of my pussy. I put both hands on her head and she thrashes back and forth rapidly while I explode from inside. I'm desperately pressed to the wall and everything is dark. I can feel her latched to me and my legs tremble.

She moves away from me and I slide down the wall. Without a word, she pulls me to the floor and suddenly she's on top of me. When did she get naked?

My clit is throbbing and then she moves between my legs, pressing her wetness to mine. She thrusts against me, "Look at me," she pants.

I open my eyes and she's got one of my legs to her chest. The other is on the floor and she's pounding my pussy with hers. The slapping sounds we are making get me even wetter and I reach for her. She's grinding on me and I feel like I might cum so hard I will actually explode.

Her eyes soften, "I'm... I'm going to cum," she says desperately. I watch her now. Her eyes close tightly and her brow is furrowed. She works herself against me as she lets go. Her back arches and she flexes as she rides the wave of an intense orgasm. She moves slower now, never breaking contact with me. She's hot and wet against me. Her cheeks are bright pink and her mouth is slightly open.

She continues to move slowly and I reach a hand down to rub her sticky mound. I can feel the pool of moisture between her pussy lips and I use her own lubrication to massage her clit. She stops moving but I keep my fingers working her tiny erection. Her eyes are shut tightly and she grits her teeth while she murmurs, "Please... oh, shit... please..."

I let my finger rub her clit directly and she shivers on top of me before freezing. She's completely rigid. Her back is arched and her arms are locked at the elbows. She's barely breathing and the first indication I get that she's still alive is a deep moan of satisfaction and relief.

We lay together quietly for a moment. She rests her head on my chest and her breathing slows down. She kisses my neck and shoulder before sitting up, "I'm going to have a shower and unpack my things," she kisses my forehead and walks to the bedroom, "and you should call your mom!" She calls out.

My stomach jumps into my throat and I know she's right. While I'm sure that Regina filled her mom in an her mom got to mine already, I do owe her a call. My phone calls out to me and I see a confirmation email for my hotel and flight. Unbelievable. We leave in a week.

I swallow hard and dial my mother.

"Hi, sweetie!" She beams from the other end.

"Oh, hi, mom," I'm cautious.

"I was wondering when I would hear from you,"

"Oh? Why is that?" I'm freaking out.

"Well, you used to call me every weekend, remember? It's just been awhile. So what's new?"

I tell her all about Peter Vaughn and my momentary migration to the East Coast. She couldn't be happier for me. I feel like she's in such a good mood. Now is the time.

"So, mom, you haven't spoken to Regina's mom lately, have you?"

"Yesterday, why?"

I blush, "Did she have any interesting things to say. Maybe about me?"

"Uh... no. Nothing. Why? Is everything OK?"

"Mom, I'm seeing someone,"

"Audrey, that's lovely. Who's the lucky fella?"

"Maggie. Her name is Maggie," I nearly choke on my words.

The phone is silent.

"Hello?" I wonder if she hung up.

"Maggie? Maggie as in a girl?"

I nod and then squeak out a very small, "Yes."

"Well, sweetheart, that's great. We'll have to have you two over for supper sometime. Listen, Stephen and I are headed out. I'll call you later, alright?"

I'm a little surprised, but not really, "Okay, bye, mom,"

She hangs up. I look up at Maggie. She's standing in the doorway, "Give her time,"

I nod. I look at my letter from Peter Vaughn and have visions of the two of us making pure magic. Life can never just be perfect. There's always something. Maybe New York will be just the thing for me now. Maybe.