81/12 Close Call
A/N: Phone sex.
Close Call
By Demeter
Lindsay's been sent home. She feels like she's being indulged because of her run-in with Craft's family, but frankly, she doesn't care as much as she would have a couple of years ago. In her hotel room, she lies down for just a bit before her dinner with Brenda, but falls deeply asleep.
The sound of her cell phone nearly sends her to the ceiling. "Boxer," she answers harsher than necessary.
"And a good evening to you too." Cindy sounds fairly amused at first, but worry takes over quickly. "Are you alright?"
"I was asleep," Lindsay confesses, wincing when one look at the digital clock shows her that its only 7:30. "What were you doing?"
"Oh well." She can almost picture her shrug. "Just hoping for a round of hot phone sex with my girlfriend."
Cindy has accomplished her mission; Lindsay is wide awake now, the flush heating her face and creeping down her body. "Funny way of saying hello," she finally manages, but her voice, a lower cadence now, betrays her casual words. Before her mind can slip into the fantasy, she adds, "You're not serious about that, right?"
"I don't know." Cindy sighs. "We both know that you're not going to quit until Alpha is caught. That could take a long time. I guess I've just been too spoiled, having you around - being able to touch you whenever I want to."
While the conversation feels quite surreal to Lindsay, exposing all the wrong turns she has taken lately, her body takes interest in a different and very real way. She isn't so tired anymore. "Is there some flattery in there?" she makes a weak attempt of a joke. "You know, we're not teenagers. We should show a little more restraint."
On the other end of the line, Cindy laughs, the sound making Lindsay entirely too happy. "I'm the one with the hormones all over the place, don't tell me about restraint. Do you even want to know what I would do if you were here with me now?"
"Oh God," Lindsay moans into the pillow before she can stop herself, prompting more laughter. "I'd feel weird."
"It's not weird. It's healthy," Cindy says, and damn it, when she's sexy and reasonable at the same time, Lindsay doesn't stand a chance.
"Then tell me already." As her hand slips beneath the fabric of her slip, she feels weird indeed, just a little, but once Cindy starts her narrative, the images don't leave her much of a choice. Closing her eyes tightly, Lindsay replaces her own hand with Cindy's in her mind, the rush of pleasure leaving her breathless, the orgasm bittersweet as they are together, and yet, they aren't.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"My pleasure." Cindy's voice reveals every single nuance, the smile, the arousal, the same fear of hanging up the phone. "You know, I meant what you said. I won't badger you about leaving. I expected you to go with it when I went to LA, so..." She sighs heavily. "I just wish I'd have more time with you."
"Me too."
"I could write from LA."
Much as Lindsay would like that, she doesn't want this arrangement to be permanent; their home is in San Francisco, and she cringes at the idea of infinitely prolonging her stay here in Los Angeles. She has paid her dues here in this city. "We will figure something out," Lindsay says, not quite ready to share the thought that's forming, yet. "Say hello to the baby."
"Hello, baby," Cindy says, making both of them crack up once more.
That moment, Lindsay misses her so badly that it hurts, and she knows what the right thing to do is without a doubt.
Close Call
By Demeter
Lindsay's been sent home. She feels like she's being indulged because of her run-in with Craft's family, but frankly, she doesn't care as much as she would have a couple of years ago. In her hotel room, she lies down for just a bit before her dinner with Brenda, but falls deeply asleep.
The sound of her cell phone nearly sends her to the ceiling. "Boxer," she answers harsher than necessary.
"And a good evening to you too." Cindy sounds fairly amused at first, but worry takes over quickly. "Are you alright?"
"I was asleep," Lindsay confesses, wincing when one look at the digital clock shows her that its only 7:30. "What were you doing?"
"Oh well." She can almost picture her shrug. "Just hoping for a round of hot phone sex with my girlfriend."
Cindy has accomplished her mission; Lindsay is wide awake now, the flush heating her face and creeping down her body. "Funny way of saying hello," she finally manages, but her voice, a lower cadence now, betrays her casual words. Before her mind can slip into the fantasy, she adds, "You're not serious about that, right?"
"I don't know." Cindy sighs. "We both know that you're not going to quit until Alpha is caught. That could take a long time. I guess I've just been too spoiled, having you around - being able to touch you whenever I want to."
While the conversation feels quite surreal to Lindsay, exposing all the wrong turns she has taken lately, her body takes interest in a different and very real way. She isn't so tired anymore. "Is there some flattery in there?" she makes a weak attempt of a joke. "You know, we're not teenagers. We should show a little more restraint."
On the other end of the line, Cindy laughs, the sound making Lindsay entirely too happy. "I'm the one with the hormones all over the place, don't tell me about restraint. Do you even want to know what I would do if you were here with me now?"
"Oh God," Lindsay moans into the pillow before she can stop herself, prompting more laughter. "I'd feel weird."
"It's not weird. It's healthy," Cindy says, and damn it, when she's sexy and reasonable at the same time, Lindsay doesn't stand a chance.
"Then tell me already." As her hand slips beneath the fabric of her slip, she feels weird indeed, just a little, but once Cindy starts her narrative, the images don't leave her much of a choice. Closing her eyes tightly, Lindsay replaces her own hand with Cindy's in her mind, the rush of pleasure leaving her breathless, the orgasm bittersweet as they are together, and yet, they aren't.
"Thank you," she whispers.
"My pleasure." Cindy's voice reveals every single nuance, the smile, the arousal, the same fear of hanging up the phone. "You know, I meant what you said. I won't badger you about leaving. I expected you to go with it when I went to LA, so..." She sighs heavily. "I just wish I'd have more time with you."
"Me too."
"I could write from LA."
Much as Lindsay would like that, she doesn't want this arrangement to be permanent; their home is in San Francisco, and she cringes at the idea of infinitely prolonging her stay here in Los Angeles. She has paid her dues here in this city. "We will figure something out," Lindsay says, not quite ready to share the thought that's forming, yet. "Say hello to the baby."
"Hello, baby," Cindy says, making both of them crack up once more.
That moment, Lindsay misses her so badly that it hurts, and she knows what the right thing to do is without a doubt.