"I don't ca--wait, what?" June asks, tilting her head to the side inquisitively.
Chloe sighs, feigning annoyance. It's her go-to expression when she show how much she actually cares, especially when she's showing how much she cares about June. Chloe's never really been a wordy person; actions, in her experience, have always spoken louder than words. "You had mentioned in one of those silly comic books you made that your ideal date included pink champagne, which is actually a lot harder to find than you expect. I mean I managed to get my hands on some, because I'm me, but it really should have been easier. I wanted to surprise you with it."
June's eyes grow progressively wider and more doe-like as Chloe speaks, until she's in full-on bambi mode. "You wanted to surprise me? Chloe, that's so sweet!"
"No, it's not. I don't do sweet. Except for margaritas, because yum." Chloe puts the bottle down on the counter and crosses her arms indignantly. June smirks.
"You're right. It's not sweet. It's cute. Heck, it's downright adorable." As she speaks, she inches closer to June until they're separated by a scant few inches.
Chloe attempts to frown, or to put up any sort of defense at all, because she is many things (read: sexy, hot as hell, fabulous, stylish, etc.) but she is absolutely not adorable, and she will not be referred to as such. Except that it's really hard to frown when her girlfriend--who is, actually, really adorable--is so close to her face. "I'm not ado--" she starts, but doesn't get to finish, because June has latched onto her mouth like their lips are magnets or something. Not that Chloe's complaining. In fact, she is not complaining quite vocally. June pulls back when one of Chloe's hands settles on her lace-covered ass and squeezes happily. "Wait, I made dinner and everything, we can't just skip to the s--mmph," Chloe interrupts her with another kiss, and June melts.
Chloe pulls back a fraction of an inch, and whispers against June's lips. "We can reheat the food. I want you. Now."
June moans, and, well, that's the end of that conversation.
Hours later, they toast nakedly on the rug over cold food and warm pink champagne. It's not how June had planned it, but it somehow feels even more perfect.
Chloe sighs, feigning annoyance. It's her go-to expression when she show how much she actually cares, especially when she's showing how much she cares about June. Chloe's never really been a wordy person; actions, in her experience, have always spoken louder than words. "You had mentioned in one of those silly comic books you made that your ideal date included pink champagne, which is actually a lot harder to find than you expect. I mean I managed to get my hands on some, because I'm me, but it really should have been easier. I wanted to surprise you with it."
June's eyes grow progressively wider and more doe-like as Chloe speaks, until she's in full-on bambi mode. "You wanted to surprise me? Chloe, that's so sweet!"
"No, it's not. I don't do sweet. Except for margaritas, because yum." Chloe puts the bottle down on the counter and crosses her arms indignantly. June smirks.
"You're right. It's not sweet. It's cute. Heck, it's downright adorable." As she speaks, she inches closer to June until they're separated by a scant few inches.
Chloe attempts to frown, or to put up any sort of defense at all, because she is many things (read: sexy, hot as hell, fabulous, stylish, etc.) but she is absolutely not adorable, and she will not be referred to as such. Except that it's really hard to frown when her girlfriend--who is, actually, really adorable--is so close to her face. "I'm not ado--" she starts, but doesn't get to finish, because June has latched onto her mouth like their lips are magnets or something. Not that Chloe's complaining. In fact, she is not complaining quite vocally. June pulls back when one of Chloe's hands settles on her lace-covered ass and squeezes happily. "Wait, I made dinner and everything, we can't just skip to the s--mmph," Chloe interrupts her with another kiss, and June melts.
Chloe pulls back a fraction of an inch, and whispers against June's lips. "We can reheat the food. I want you. Now."
June moans, and, well, that's the end of that conversation.
Hours later, they toast nakedly on the rug over cold food and warm pink champagne. It's not how June had planned it, but it somehow feels even more perfect.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment