Just Us Two

[Tanned_babe]

(This thread is closed to Lady_Mornington)​

2nd June 2013

A drink with a couple of the girls from work had turned out to most of the Savills Edinburgh office hitting the bars of the city a little too heavily considering it was a Thursday night. They had started at the Halfway House, then onto the Whiski Bar for some dinner and then finished off in Tron in Hunter Square.

Zara considered herself incredibly fortunate in many ways but from a work point of view she had definitely landed on her feet. Savills was one of the most well respected real estate providers in the world, the people she worked with, on the whole were just lovely, her boss was brilliant and she got to do what she loved- survey beautiful buildings.

It had just gone half past twelve when the taxi pulled up outside Zara’s home on Regent Terrace and, not that she hadn’t had a lot of fun this evening, the young woman was dying to get into bed with her girlfriend.

“They’ll be a few people not looking to sharp tomorrow morning I’d imagine.” Said the man sitting next to her. Kevin Summers was the Associate Director of Valuation at her work and on the whole had been the perfect gentleman all night.
Zara agreed with him as she clambered out of the taxi. “Kevin, you really don’t need to walk me to the door.” Zara said with the slightest of slurs.
“So, this is you? Very nice.” He smiled, hands in the pockets of his suit trousers, looking up at the Georgian town house before describing the building the only way someone in the property industry can.
Zara laughed, he’s funny. There’s no harm in that.....
“What are you doing? I live with someone!!” Zara gasped pulling away from the guy standing in front of her. Truth be-told she was far more surprised at herself. Suddenly the whole night flashed before her, he gave her his chair, he bought her drinks, subtle touches and she had enjoyed it. God! She mentally kicked herself as she took a couple of steps away from him. Why was she standing this close to him?!

“Oh come on Zara! Stop playing about, we all know you are not one of THOSE!” He said ignorantly gesturing to the door of her home.
Another couple of drinks in her and Zara would probably have kneed him in the groin but she kept as cool as she could. “If ‘THOSE’ means that there is someone behind that door who I love then yes, I am one of THOSE. Something that you are really going to struggle to find if you carry on acting like a Fucking pig!”
Slamming the front door of their Georgian townhouse Zara shrugged her coat off and hung it by the door, revealing the black knee length dress which she had wore to the office that day. Joanna had picked out for her because according to her it was the perfect combination of ‘corporate and sexy.’

“Bloody hell.” She muttered to herself as she stepped further into the house, her heels clicking on the old black marble floor. Seeing light from the kitchen glow into the dull hall way that was only lit by a standard lamp at the foot of the stairs Zara made her way into the kitchen in to tell her girlfriend of her evening.
Upon entering the beautiful room Zara was greeted by her girlfriend but Zara could decipher straight away that something was amiss and it did not take a genius to figure out why. “Oh shit.” She muttered as she unwrapped her scarf from around her neck. “Joanna, hang on a second. It’s not what you think.”
“He kissed me, for two seconds, three tops. I didn’t kiss him back- I just pushed him away and then-“ Zara tried to explain. She was panicking, she was in the wrong here but not about to blurt out the fact she had allowed that man to... to be around her all night.

Zara stepped toward Joanna who was, like her starting to get emotional. Reaching out she gently grasped the woman’s arm. “I’m sorry! I swear I didn’t mean for anything like that to happen. I’ve just had one too many and I let him get too close to me. I’m really sorry.” She voice shook as Joanna retaliated yet again, brushing her off.
“Come on Jo...... Please.”
“Look.” Zara said with a little more force. Why on earth wasn’t she listening to her? Why wouldn’t she believe her? Zara hadn’t so much as looked at someone else. Her facial expression changed from that of concern and worry to frustration laced with a twinge of anger. “I have given up a hell of a lot to be in this relationship with you. How dare you think I’m going to jeopardise it for a quick snog with some arsehole from work!” Without realising it she had raised her hand and was pointing an accusing finger in her partners face and before she could retract what she had just said Zara felt a stinging tingling on her cheek forcing her head to move sharply to the left.

The two women just looked at each other with equally shocked expressions on their faces. It seemed like hours but Zara finally broke the silence just before Joanna did. “Well, that’s just fine!” She said, she said quite quietly before turning on her heel and marched out the room and made her way up stairs to the guest bedroom but not before turning back to Joanna. “DON’T follow me!” It was probably the most assertive thing she had ever said to her friend.
Slamming a door for the second time that evening Zara stood just inside the guest bedroom. Like all the rooms in the house it was a decent size but suddenly it felt oh so small.

After what could have been a minute, ten, an hour? The young woman made a move to the bed kicking off her heels as she lay on her back staring at the white corniced ceiling willing her brain not to go into overload about what had just happened downstairs with her girlfriend. Girlfriend? Joanna was so much more than that.

The author was the most important person in Zara’s word, her life, her soul mate. Zara felt so strongly for the woman, everything she experienced with Jo was indescribably, to the point of scary. However these thoughts were not playing on Zara’s mind at the moment. No, she was too busy thinking about how she should have handled the situation. How she should have accepted that Joanna was angry, Hell she would be livid! Although she liked to think that she could control herself and not raise a hand. That was a ‘no, no.’
Sitting up, Zara wiped away the tears that has ran across her temples and into her brown hair before slipping out of her dress, draping it over a chair by the window sill and drawing the curtains.

Having decided to call it quits on the sleeping front, having woken up every half an hour Zara was rummaging through the guest bedroom’s wardrobe which was half empty of clothes that both women were too fond of to throw out and ‘would wear someday’, finding a pair of shorts that would do for the gym along with an old Aberdeen University hockey team polo shirt. The young woman packed up for the day as quietly as possible, making do with what makeup she carried in her handbag and wearing yesterday’s dress (not ideal but it was good for another day), as not to have to go into their bedroom and confront Joanna.

Creeping down the stairs, Zara was about to head out the front door when Joanna’s slender hand draped over the arm of the couch could her eye. “Aw you silly cow.” Zara muttered under her breath seeing her loved one lying there in just her blouse and underwear. She had a sudden urge to kiss her, run her fingers through her silky hair and tell her how sorry she was but alas Zara had inherited her father’s stubbornness, however she wasn’t completely heartless. Retrieving a blanket from Zara covered the bare legs of her partner and quickly made a cup of tea, out of habit selecting THAT mug before heading out for the day.


No matter how much she willed Edinburgh City Council to block roads, cause miles of diversions or for some kind of incident to occur which would keep her from getting home tonight. Not that she didn’t want to see Joanna, God no. Spending any more than a working day apart was usually somewhat of a trial and Zara had been out of the house since before 7am and it was now marching onto eight o’clock. However the thought of the pending discussion was making her sick to her stomach. This was evident by the M&S sandwich with two bites out of it sitting in the passenger seat of her Mini.

Pulling up outside her home on Cartlon Street Zara was in the front door before she knew it. Closing the last front door quietly her mind was totally blank and even though she wasn’t angry at Joanna anymore, she was too tired to be, hearing her shout from the kitchen got her hackles up.

 

[Lady_Mornington]

Joanna

The slap hit Zara’s face at a perfect angle, and caused the younger woman’s head to twist as Joanna’s palm connected with her cheek. It had been a reflexive and instant reaction caused equally by anger and desperation. She ought to have known better, she cursed herself as she saw Zara’s hand fly to her cheek, shock and anger readily discernable in her beautiful brown eyes. There had been a thousand things she could have said and a thousand things she could have done instead of lashing out like she had done. She felt tears burn at the corners of her eyes, caused more by anger with her own incapability of handling the situation than anything Zara had done.

Joanna was not a violent person. She had told herself that numerous times; even though her father was an officer in the British Army she had grown up with the lesson that violence would never solve any problems. In addition to that, Joanna had seen her fair share of spousal violence which would have made her less prone to such a response. It was nonetheless so that when Zara walked into the kitchen she reacted on a purely instinctual basis. The reptile part of her brain taking command and overruling everything else and thus meriting her response as her lover tried to explain.

It was an act of desperation; the sight of her loved one being embraced by the young man and the subsequent kiss that he had placed on her lips had made Joanna’s blood boil. She understood perfectly well that Zara, by merit of her personality and looks, was quite capable of turning the heads of both men and women. Up until now however that had been a source of pride, nothing she would ever mention of course, but the knowledge that the young stylish woman was in fact hers had bolstered her confidence enormously.

“Zara wait!” She called out as Zara headed up the stairs, heels clicking against the hardwood steps without looking back. There was finality to the act, the notion that all that they had shared had been lost within a single moment. “Please Zara!” Joanna called out again but the only reply was the sound of the door to the guestroom slamming shut.

“Damn!” Joanna swore under her breath as she ran her fingers through her hair, pushing an errant strand that had escaped the confines of the bun and falling down her cheek. She leaned back against the cool surface of the fridge, trying to make sense of what had happened. Zara had told her that she and some colleagues were going out for drinks after work. Nothing out of the ordinary there or so Joanna had thought. She had gotten a text during the evening, Zara having said that she would come home around midnight, that she loved her and that she missed her. They usually exchanged little tokens of affections like that when their jobs or social engagements kept them away from each other. What had been different this time was of course the drama that had been played out on the street outside their house. Joanna had not meant to see what had happened, and in retrospect, she would probably have reacted in an entirely different way than she had done. She had seen the way that the young man had escorted Zara, his entire stance signalling his intents as readily as would a written sign hung around his neck. Joanna had been watching from the kitchen window that overlooked the street, seeing how he had positioned himself between Zara and the door and then had reached out to embrace her.

She had not bothered to watch what transpired after that, her mind had already gone blank with jealousy coupled with a searing anger and, admittedly, sadness. While not something Joanna had spent much time actually dwelling on, she knew that their relationship was taking its toll on Zara. Most notably there was the fact that Zara had yet to tell her family about the exact nature of their relation. The knowledge that her partner was still struggling with other peoples’ prejudice and perhaps her own insecurities made Joanna reach conclusions that she would later have to admit had not been true.

She heard Zara slamming the door shut and curse as she headed into the kitchen, a look of anger on her face. The prudent course would have been to sit down, but the red mist had already descended on Joanna and as Zara started to explain what had actually happened mere moments ago. It all made sense, at least with hindsight, and there was no real reason to doubt her lover’s words. Yet in that moment the only thing Joanna saw for her inner vision was the kiss that Zara had shared with the man. The thing twisting inside her mind, fuelled by jealousy turning into something else even as she tried to make sense of what she thought she had seen.

Joanna had not meant to lash out as she did but she had momentarily lost control, the green eyed monster seemingly having been responsible for her actions rather than any coherent thought of her own and now she was left to contemplate what this would mean for Zara, for herself and for their relationship. She heard Zara hiss a warning not to follow her as the younger woman retreated up the stairs, and from the sounds of it, taking refuge in the guest room. For a moment she debated whether she ought to follow her, to try at least to set things right, but even as she took the first tentative step she realised that it was probably not going to help matters. Besides she had already broken Zara’s trust by acting in the way she had. She stopped, running her hands over her face as she tried to collect her thoughts.

They had known each other for almost three years now, and been a couple for the past nine months. She would never have considered that when she first met Zara. It had been a professional relation to start with, Zara having just begun working for prestigious Savills and had been doing Joanna’s books as she went on to publish her first novel in February 2007. The young ambitious woman proving to be quite the lifesaver as far as handling Joanna’s expanding fortune went. They hadn’t met that much, communication having been limited to e-mails and the odd phone call but Zara had nonetheless proved to be invaluable.

Most of 2007 had been spent doing promotion for her book. With a leave of absence from her position at Edinburgh University she was free to meet the demands of her fans, spending weeks on the road for signings and promotions. While her career took off, her relationship went to pieces and while she and her boyfriend parted as friends, the hurt that her ambition had inflicted lingered on. She had thrown herself into her writing to the point where her editor had explicitly forbidden her from writing a single word on pain of losing her deal with the publishing house. It had been a stroke of luck, even though it had not felt like it at the time.

It had been an ordinary Tuesday afternoon and since she had been banned, if not from writing then at least to submit her texts to her editor, Joanne had spent the day at the library, then having lunch at the Balmoral Hotel. She had strolled down Princess Street and just stopped by WH Smith to browse the books as she had, literally, bumped into Zara who had been standing next to her by the shelves. They had exchanged the customary pleasantries, continuing their conversation which strangely enough did not concern Joanna’s finances. They had stopped outside the shop, neither of them seeming to want to go their separate ways. On a spur of the moment, Joanna had asked her if she fancied a drink, bashfully admitting to wanting a glass of wine but not really being in the mood for having one on her own.

Joanna had felt her heart skip a beat as Zara had accepted, and doing so with a radiant smile, citing that she had put in a lot of overtime lately and that Savills owed her a bit of free time. They had walked along Princess Street, taking a left at St David’s Street and carried on to Rose Street where they had found a wine bar that they had decided would do. Not so much because the ambience but rather that their conversation, such as it was had been stilted when having to negotiate the numerous other pedestrians on the crowded streets of the Scottish capital. With the arrival of their drinks, chilled white wine for Zara and a gin and tonic for Joanna, their conversation flowed freely, and she realised that for the first time since her breakup she was actually enjoying the company of another person in a way that bespoke...infatuation.

They had stayed at the bar for almost three hours, the only interruption being the numerous times that Zara’s mobile chimed and the subsequent polite answer that Zara delivered without ever losing pace and, admittedly without her attention seemingly deviating from Joanna. They were finally and politely told that the table they were occupying had been reserved, bringing them back to the present and with what seemed to be the same kind of reluctance as earlier they found themselves standing on Rose Street, a fine rain almost like mist shrouding the two of them. There had been a moment of silence broken by a quick peck on Zara’s cheek before Joanna departed, feeling both elation and melancholy as she walked briskly down Rose Street.

Joanna awoke with a start on the sofa in the living room. “I must have fallen asleep” she thought to herself as she shook her head trying to puzzle together what had taken place. A glance at the Edwardian clock on the mantelpiece showed 8, meaning that Zara would already have left for work. Zara...the recollection of what had happened last night caused her to moan with regret. Zara must surely be in a right state and it was all her fault. Joanna had no idea what would happen but having an active imagination she could come up with a number of plausible outcomes. Yet as she was about to swing her legs from the sofa she noticed that the lush blanket from Highland Home Industries that covered her naked legs, as well as the still warm mug of tea that sat on the table. She picked it up, smiling as she saw that it was her favourite one, bearing the picture of a friendly dinosaur.

For a moment she allowed herself the luxury of hoping that perhaps things were not beyond repair between them and even though the feeling was fleeing she gained some strength from it.

 

[Tanned_babe]

It was probably a sign that it happened to be Friday the 13th, Joanna thought as she slowly got up from the sofa, noticing the blanket that covered her legs and her favourite mug sitting on the table by the sofa. She sat up, reaching out to take the mug, bearing the image of the smiling dinosaur and slowly brought it to her lips. “You’ve been a right idiot Joanna McKelvie” she scolded herself as she sipped the lukewarm tea. “A right fucking idiot” she saw every image of what had happened the last night played out in her mind. She cringed as she recalled how she had lashed out, the flat of her hand hitting Zara’s delicate cheek with a sound, which at least in her recollection, had been as loud as a thunder clap. “Good work Joanna!” She hated herself for having allowed her emotions to override sense. A proper way would have been to confront Zara without resorting to violence.

She slowly got up from her seat, realising that she would have to try and go about her business best as she could. There were no scheduled lectures today but she still had a heap of essays to mark, and while it was not the kind of task that she would normally have looked forward to, today it provided the perfect refuge from the thoughts that kept on assailing her.

The stylish clock on the kitchen wall had just passed six o’clock, and the realisation caused Joanna’s already considerable worry to increase even more. Zara would normally be home by now; well that was she had always been quite quick to come home after work. It was almost a ritual, Zara sweeping into their townhouse, kissing her cheek and dropping her stylish coat (one of them, after all Zara was quite the dedicated follower of fashion) on a chair and then head upstairs to get changed. There would almost always be a glass of wine, or if they had work to do, sparkling mineral water, daintily arranged with a twist of lemon waiting for her. Joanna’s publisher, Harry Craig who had witnessed it firsthand had jokingly referred to it as the perfect marriage and dubbed, in his usual flowery way, Joanna to be the domestic goddess that Nigella vainly aspired to be.

The recollection brought a smile to her face, but she rapidly became sombre again as she heard the faint click of the lock, announcing that Zara had come home. Joanna felt herself inhale deeply, as if preparing for a coming onslaught. She had no desire to let things slide again, but the nagging feeling of being slighted still lingered. After all, Zara had not returned the texts she had sent her during the day and the calls she had made had been rerouted to her voicemail. Joanna adjusted her glasses as she heard the clicking of heels against the hardwood and tiles and as Zara stepped in she was overcome by two emotions. First and most poignant was the fact that Zara looked so vulnerable, while retaining the perfection of her looks, there was a shadow about her, possibly only visible to Joanna and that almost made her burst out crying. The second emotion was one of worry, fear and admittedly of the slighting, which was the main reason for her rather tarty comment.

“You’re late Zara and I didn’t know when or if you’d come home so there’s no real starter prepared.” She shrugged as she crossed her arms over her chest, realising too late that the stance was one that didn’t exactly speak of reconciliation.

Hearing Joanna make comment about her being late had Zara throwing her keys into the small porcelain bowl on the phone table a little harder than usual. I don’t really care and of course I’d come back you stupid... Zara thought to herself before making her way into the kitchen where judging by the rich smell Joanna had cooked dinner. This gave Zara more than a little twinge of guilt.

“How has your day been?” Zara asked briskly, leaning against the door frame. Despite looking as weary if not more so than Zara did herself, she still thought the woman standing before her was absolutely gorgeous. “Yeah, sounds about right.” Zara shrugged in retort to Joanna reply of her day being rather awful, how was hers?

Moving further into the room Zara placed her bag on the black marble of the kitchen counter, keeping ‘the island’ between herself and Joanna. She shrugged off her black Burberry coat, revealing the dress she had worn yesterday. Which in hindsight wasn’t a very clever thing to, rumours in that office had started on far less.

The two women stood in silence for what seemed for ever before they both went to speak at the same time and Jo motioned for Zara speak first. “Don’t you ever do that to me again.” The young woman said, trying to be assertive but her voice was starting to shake. “I swear to God Joanna, don’t.” She wiped away the wetness that had spilled from her eyes, still not moving from where she was standing.

Joanna listened in silence as Zara slowly made her way into the kitchen. It was painfully evident that neither of them, proud women as they were, did not find rapprochement easy. “My day?” Joanna gave a brittle little laugh as she continued to dice the tomatoes with a little more force than necessary. “My day was pretty shitty.” She continued to prepare the starter, chopping garlic and adding to the tomatoes, little shards of white amidst the bright red, trying to fend of the inevitable clash that was bound to occur. “I didn’t mean to...” Joanna realised as soon as she had spoke the words that the sentence more or less placed her within the same bracket as any other abusive spouse, and even so she seemed incapable of stopping herself. “You did kiss him!” She put the Japanese knife down on the cutting board and turned to face Zara. “You actually kissed him, outside OUR home Zara. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Stand around smiling? It broke my heart seeing him touch you.” She felt tears well up and ineffectually wiped her cheeks with the cuffs of her turtleneck shirt. “I don’t want to lose you” She spoke the last words quietly as if she was afraid that by uttering them they would somehow come true.

Zara just stared at Joanna, she was right. There was no use playing the victim in all this. Both women were at fault and Zara had instigated the whole ordeal. “I know, I know.” Zara said, allowing a few tears to spill over her eyelids and slip down her rather paler than usual cheeks. “I let him get too close to me and.... and I suppose on some level” Zara struggled to keep her voice as she admitted something to Joanna that she was yet to allow herself to acknowledge “I guess I wanted, not wanted in that way, but just a man. But I know I don’t. I don’t I swear Joanna, I love you.” Zara said starting to cry as she moved round the island and towards Jo. “I’m so sorry...”

Joanna realised that she had held her breath for the duration of Zara’s explanation. It was not that she couldn’t understand, in fact she understood it all too well. Taking the good with the bad as the proverb went, yeah that was all nice and dandy in the metaphysic realm but to apply it to everyday life had proved to be a hell of a lot harder. She cuffed away another tear as Zara moved closer and instinctively opened her arms for her, her hands and arms feeling the familiar curves of Zara’s body as she was pulled into an embrace. “I’m sorry too Zara and” she looked into Zara’s perfect eyes, the green of hers contrasting with the brown of her partner’s “I love you too. More than you could ever imagine.” She felt the slight tremor in Zara’s arms and pulled her closer, holding her without speaking.

When Jo took her in her arms Zara could literally feel the built up tension leaving her shoulders. The two women just hugged for what seemed like forever but it still wouldn’t have been long enough. Zara’s slender arms wrapped familiarly round Jo’s shoulders as she rested her head against her girlfriends as the two women cried silently.

She didn’t know which one made the first move but soon their soft lips were trailing over each other’s pale cheeks before Zara found Joanna’s lips with her own. “I’m.... really...sorry.” She said in between placing light kisses upon her girlfriend.

Again, Zara had no idea of how long it took for the contact the two women were sharing to become far more passionate than just a reconciling hug. She was suddenly aware of not just Joanna’s hands training down her back and grasping her waist but the feeling of need she got from the force in which Joanna’s tongue was exploring her mouth. The young woman’s hands had become tangled within Joanna’s silky brown hair as she pushed her lithe body up against her partners equally trim figure.

Still locked in their passionate embrace, emitting moans of enjoyment as the pair’s slender hands roamed freely over each other’s body. It wasn’t long before Zara had freed her girlfriend of the old strappy top she had obviously chosen for comfort, although Zara still thought she looked gorgeous. Hearing her lover moan as Zara’s lips made contact with the sensitive skin over her collar bone only spurred her on. Pressing Joanna against herself and the kitchen work top Zara allowed herself the pleasure of running her hand over the delicate lace of Jo’s beautiful black bra. Enjoying the way she could feel the firm breasts reacting to the attention they were receiving.

With her own breath becoming laboured Zara trailed her lips further down the beautiful woman’s chest, running her tongue over the almost rough lace before catching a firm nipple between her lips and even smiling slightly upon hearing her girlfriend’s reaction. “You’re so sexy.” Zara gasped as her mouth finally found Joanna’s again while she started walked backwards, guiding her partner out of the kitchen.

Zara gave a yelp of joy and excitement when, with surprising strength, she was pinned between wall of the hallway by her lover. Allowing herself to enjoy Joanna’s actions Zara tilted her head back and let out a moan of pleasure. “We should... Jo.... the....” Zara tried to form the words to ask her lover to move to the sofa but the way things were going she couldn’t clear the lust filled mist that was hazing her mind so, grasping Janna’s waist she pushed the woman from her. “The sofa, babe.”

However it was apparent what Joanna thought of this as all Zara received was a firm pull, guiding her down, with Jo, onto the cool hard wood floor of the hall.....

 

[Tanned_babe]

Canned.