Second Time Around

by Christine L'Amour

  Valerie reached down and up Monica’s skirt, bunching up the fabric at her waist, and transferred her lips to Monica’s jaw, then her neck, and Monica stared dazedly at the ceiling. Her hips bucked forward of their own volition, drawn to the hand Valerie had tantalizingly close and too fucking far. Her skin rose in goosebumps, the air suddenly chill when Valerie took a step back and dropped to her knees.

  Monica opened her legs without prompting, staring down with wide, hungry eyes. Valerie was beautiful, she was so beautiful, it had been so long since Monica had seen her on her knees, she felt feverish with it. She knew her face was flushed. Valerie pressed wet kisses to her thighs as she hooked her thumbs over the elastic band of Monica’s panties and drew them down. Monica kicked them away, legs trembling finely.

  “Okay?” Valerie murmured, digging her fingers into Monica’s legs.

  Monica nodded, too distracted to speak, and closed her mouth on a moan when Valerie pressed one finger inside of her up to the last knuckle.

  “Come on,” Valerie urged, hooking one leg of Monica’s over her shoulder.

  “The neighbors—”

  “Fuck the neighbors.”

  Monica bit her bottom lip, hands on Valerie’s shoulders, and Valerie looked up at her with a glint in her eyes she couldn’t parse. Valerie kept their eyes locked together as she leaned forward and caught Monica’s clit in a sucking kiss.

  Monica moaned, loud and full of feeling. The touch of Valerie’s mouth sent a spark of electricity up her body, and then—then it was impossible not to move. Valerie worked her with her lips and her tongues, eyes closed in bliss, while she added another finger, then another, it was easy, with how wet and ready Monica was. Monica squirmed and moaned, hands clutching and releasing Valerie’s shirt, and rocked her hips forward, looking for friction, for something more.

  Valerie gave it to her. Monica’s knees almost buckled when Valerie scissored her fingers, pushing them in and out of her and making pleasure reach a crescendo in Monica’s body. Heat pooled in her stomach, radiating out toward her limbs, and her skin tingled all over—and the feel of Valerie’s tongue on her when she slid it from her clit down to press inside her was too much. Monica came all at once, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lips raw.

  “Come here,” Monica asked, voice horse, “come here.”

  Valerie stood up and stumbled on aching, unsteady legs, and they collided against each other like they were the center of each other’s gravity, like it was impossible not to. Monica kissed her deeply, sucking at her tongue, and Valerie melted against her, fitting her legs between Monica’s and rubbing against her thigh. Monica put a hand on her waist and pushed her back without stopping their kiss, then shoved her hand inside of Valerie’s trouser.

  Valerie cursed, hips bucking—the jeans were open, Monica hadn’t noticed Valerie doing that, but no mind. She curled three fingers inside of Valerie at once and Valerie swore, panting against her shoulder, rocking against her. Monica didn’t even need to move. She leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath while Valerie pressed kisses to her neck and rode her hand, hands clutched around Monica’s waist like she wasn’t ever going to let go.

  “Come on,” Monica whispered, and Valerie shivered and came in a sweet release, Monica’s name whispered between her lips.

  “Christ,” Valerie said.

  “Let’s go to bed,” Monica said. “Please. I have no appointments all day, I have time, let’s go to bed and stay there.”

  “We, the—Jerry, your job,” Valerie tried, looking at her. “We should talk about—right? About things?”

  “Yes. Later. We’ll think of a plan—later.”

  “Later,” Valerie agreed, and kissed her with passion.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Valerie laid in bed and spent a lot of time simply not believing what she was seeing.

  Monica was lying beside her, scrolling through something random on her phone and flushing as she pretended she hadn’t noticed Valerie’s eyes on her. They had shed more and more clothes as the hours passed, and now were completely naked on Valerie’s shitty mattress, exposed and unafraid.

  Valerie had kissed Monica more today than she had kissed anyone in the past decade. She had braided her hair, traced the faint line her C-section had left on her body, appreciated her big thighs, her chubby stomach. Valerie had had her fingers twined around Monica’s, and even now she had Monica lying with her head on her shoulder.

  “I have no idea how we went from fighting to this,” she murmured. “Not at all. What on Earth happened?”

  Monica tapped her nails against the screen of her phone and answered without looking up at her.

  “My son said I was sad and it made me realize how stupidly right he was,” she admitted, a bit shamefully, and Valerie remembered her words not so many hours ago: I’m miserable. Miserable, Val. “What a shitty, stupid, empty life I have. Not him! I’m not—I’m not talking about him. I love my son more than anything.”

  “I know,” Valerie said, soothing, and Monica relaxed minutely.

  “I went to have lunch with my parents and it hit me how stupid it all is,” she whispered. “Me, having lunch with them, sitting quiet as a fucking statue as they doted on my son and pretended I didn’t exist. How did I let it come to this?”

  “It’s not your fault,” Valerie said, lines between her brows.

  “It is,” Monica said, tired and guilty, before her fire came back: “But I’m going to fix it. I’m fucking tired of not fixing anything. I should have followed you when you left instead of hating you for not asking me to go.”

  “I would have hated you for that,” Valerie whispered. “If you had followed me.”

  “I forgive you,” Monica said, voice heavy like it cost her to say it. “I know you would have forgiven me, too.”

  Valerie closed her eyes and hugged her close. She hadn’t expected forgiveness, hadn’t wanted it when she hadn’t seen herself as guilty, but she felt like crying anyway. She felt guilty, she did, Christ, why was the world so complicated? Everything always had so many shades of grey.

  “We’ll find a way to deal with Jerry,” Monica said.

  “Well,” Valerie said, then paused.

  Monica blinked and sat up, turning to look at her. “Did you have an idea?”

  “Do you know how Jerry found out about us in the first place?” Valerie asked, scratching at her cheek. She resisted the urge to look down at Monica’s boobs and mostly succeeded. God, they had gotten much bigger with the weight she had gained and with the fact she had gotten pregnant.

  “My eyes are up here,” Monica said, amused. “How did he? I thought maybe Sharon… but I know it wasn’t her. Did you tell someone about us?”

  Valerie’s eyes snapped up, a flush rising to her face. “Um. No. Jerry’s got hidden cameras all over the damn office.”

  Monica blinked. “What?”

  “Yeah. I wondered what for, then realized—of course Jerry’s got something to hide, what boss doesn’t? So, I was curious, and also feeling very, very vindictive, and very bored and lonely and I had a lot of time, so… I looked around ‘till I had spotted some of the cameras, it’s really not so hard once you know what you’re looking for, and realized there were a lot of them pointing at the kitchen.”

  They both thought about what they had done in the kitchen and flushed, embarrassed.

  “Well, I guess that explains that,” Monica said.

  “So,” Valerie said, “I waited until a lot of people were on break and the camera had a lot of blind spots and went snooping around.”

  “Did you find anything?” Monica asked, eyes wide.

  “I don’t know what it is,” Valerie admitted, “but, well, it sure is something.”

  ***

  Jerry was not a terrible man. He was not a monster, not violent, not going to go after them with hired assassins for doing this. He did what everyone did, what was so, so easy to do: he stole money. He bumped up his paycheck by taking small amoun
ts here and there, by telling the higher ups there was a bit missing, by inventing a project or two that didn’t exist. It was patently stupid to put evidence of this away in a hidden hole in the wall of the kitchen in the very office he worked at, but was it really? The financial department was small by design and all in his pockets. No one else knew. The office was small, the kitchen close, and anyone who would think to go looking would look in his office. Who would search in the kitchen?

  When Valerie and Monica sauntered into his office, he had a strained expression on his face, sweat rolling down to his neck.

  He saw them on the cameras, sure, but what was he going to do? Saunter up to them and start a screaming match in the middle of a quiet Monday morning while everyone in the entire building could hear everything?

  Of course, he had never thought they would just march into the kitchen, snatch the files from where he had hidden them, and then walk confidently into his office.

  “Hi,” Valerie said, smiling like a shark.

  Jerry looked from her to Monica, who had quietly sat down.

  “What do you two think you’re doing?” he asked lightly, pressing a handkerchief against his forehead. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing? Monica, you have a son. I know you raise him alone; I know you need your salary. Don’t force me to fire you. I really don’t want to do it. And Valerie—I know our conversations haven’t gone well so far, but I do like you. Why don’t you two give that folder back to me and run along, and we all can pretend nothing happened? Huh? I’ll—I’ll give you back your job, you can stay in the office, I’ll—I’ll make you win the competition. How about that?”

  They stared at him as he sweated and babbled on, getting more and more nervous as the two of them stayed quiet and just looked at him. Monica had her hands folded primly on her lap and Valerie hadn’t sat down, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and the folders held loosely in a hand.

  “Really, Jerry?” Valerie said, pitying.

  “Look,” he said with a sigh. “Look, this is just how things are done here. You two have no idea what you’re shoving your noses into. No idea. Those documents—there’s a reason they’re hidden.”

  “Yes,” Monica agreed, voice sharp enough to cut through bricks, “and the reason is that you hid them, because if your bosses found out, it wouldn’t be us getting fired, would it?”

  He breathed harshly, patting the handkerchief against his forehead. “Look. Monica. I think we had a good relationship all these years, and—”

  “You do know discrimination is against the law, right?” Monica cut him, cocking her head. “Maybe nothing would have come of it if we had just tried to sue you, but if we brought those charges along with these documents to your bosses—well, I don’t think they would want to deal with this problem. I think they don’t need the scandal this would bring, do you, Val?”

  “Nah,” Valerie agreed easily.

  “You want a cut of the profit, is that it?” Jerry asked, standing up at once. Monica tensed, the line of her shoulders rigid, and clutched at her car keys tighter. They were hidden under the hands she had folded on her lap. Jerry was not a violent man, but no man was violent until they hit you.

  “No, Jerry,” Valerie said easily, straightening up and sauntering up to the desk. She was taller than him. She had never noticed. “We don’t want a cut of the profits, or to get a raise, or to win the competition, or the promotion, or for you to get Monica her job back.”

  “We’re just here to warn you,” Monica said.

  “Warn me?” Jerry said, frantic. “Warn me? Look, I’m sure we can talk about this and reach an agreement. We’ve had our differences, but—”

  “You have the cameras,” Monica said blandly. “We know you saw us taking pictures of the folder. They were saved straight to the cloud, where they were shared with some important people. Like my lawyer.”

  Jerry paled, putting a hand on the desk to brace himself.

  “Thank you for everything, Jerry,” Monica said lightly, then stood and walked out.

  Valerie grinned at Jerry, vindictive and vengeful and utterly joyful, and followed her out.

  ***

  They arrived at the day-care early and were already at the door when it opened and children started pouring out, rushing toward the parents they could see waiting for them. Valerie felt like this didn’t belong to her, this moment, like Monica should have driven her home before coming to pick up her son, but Monica had held steadfastly on and refused to let her go.

  Valerie was fine with that, even if it made her a bit anxious. She had met David only once, what would he think of seeing his Mom holding hands with her, here coming to pick him up?

  She was so distracted with her thoughts that she missed it when David walked through the doors, but no one would have missed the moment he spotted them: his sky-blue eyes widened and a beam filled his little face, and he shouted Mom loud enough to wake the dead.

  Monica let her go and bent down to pick him up right as he shot toward her like a rocket. She swung him up high, both of them laughing, red in the face. They looked so much alike. Valerie felt so much in love.

  “She’s here!” David exclaimed, delighted, and it took a moment for Valerie to realize he was talking about her.

  “Yes, I brought her like I promised,” Monica said, hugging him close. He squirmed but didn’t complain, turning to look at Valerie with a smug expression.

  “I was right,” he crowed.

  “No one likes a bragger, kid,” Valerie said, hopelessly charmed, and ruffled his hair. “Though I have no idea what you’re bragging about.”

  “I said Mommy was sad and only laughed when you were around and then Mommy listened and now she’s happy!”

  Valerie felt her face flush, turning to look helplessly at Monica. It wasn’t that simple. They both knew that. Especially now that they had opened up a can of worms at work. But it felt good to agree with him, to let him brag, to tell him he was right—because he was, in a way. Together, they could deal with anything. Valerie could help with David and take some weight from Monica’s back. Monica could show Valerie just how to make a house a home. They could hold hands through the storm Jerry was sure to put them through and ride it out like that, together.

  “I am,” Monica agreed softly, pressing a kiss to his head. “I am happy. Thank you, baby.”

  “Now we go to the park!” he shouted right in her ear.

  Monica winced, but rolled her eyes in fond amusement also.

  “All right,” she said. “Just this once!”

  She turned to Valerie and held out her hand. Valerie took it, and let Monica lead her out and show her what real family was.

  *THE END*

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