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Authors: Monica Conti

Tags: #lesbian romance lesbian fiction lesbian desire

BOOK: A Verdict for Love
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She had actually felt herself almost
flirting with Chiara for approval and she had mixed feelings about
it. She had never deliberately flirted with a woman, let alone a
potential boss. She had thought for a second about whether it was
appropriate during the interview but she’d just kept doing it
because she desperately wanted the job and she wanted a closer
association with Chiara Bianchi. She hadn’t really given a damn
about what was or wasn’t appropriate.

A profound admiration for Chiara had
blossomed almost immediately. There was something about her
absolute certainty. The confidence she’d exuded made Grace want to
emulate her. But was it more than that?

Out in the light of day, she felt
profoundly upset by this new inner feeling. That was the first
woman she’d ever met who had brought on this kind of effect. She
felt her cheeks burning and was not exactly sure why. At times in
that room she had felt something totally new...an almost sexual
attraction.

She stopped by the supermarket on her
way home. This particular market was one frequented by many young
lesbian couples living in the area. Grace hadn’t known it when she
had taken her place but soon discovered that Decatur had a growing
reputation as a gay community. Though Grace did not really mind
this, when she saw two women kissing in the A&P that day, it
was a little shocking to her. She stood watching them being so
openly affectionate amid the fruits and vegetables and felt both
put off and yet oddly aroused by it. She shrugged it off; after all
she was in the big city now. But seeing this on the heels of her
experience in Chiara’s presence made her feel some further
confusion. She could not really understand these odd twinges of
arousal.

During the drive back to her little
place a few blocks away, her mind was busy with a fresh
self-appraisal.

Grace had never for a minute thought
of herself as gay. Or really as straight for that matter. She’d had
a normal curiosity about sex which she’d just taken for granted as
involving men. She’d been impatient enough to almost force her
med-student boyfriend to initiate her, only to find the experience
very over-rated.

Then at law school she’d thought
perhaps it had just been him so she gave it another try. Several
tries in fact, but despite being completely uninhibited sexually
she never felt satisfied by the act. She only felt empty afterward.
Her last disappointment had been with Alex, a young and handsome
graduate student from Emory she had been seeing. He had lain back
after they made love with a sigh of pleasure, while she on the
other hand stood up and quickly clothed herself. To his dismay,
she’d started crying and left without explanation. It was just
frustration. She could not understand why she never came with Alex
or hadn’t with any man in fact.

She might not have been finding the
heights of bliss with men, but they certainly had seemed to find it
with her. All of her former lovers had wanted another night with
her if she had allowed it. Grace felt there was something absent.
She had expected more from love, from sex. She was too sensual to
think of herself as frigid. Despite the lack of satisfaction she’d
experienced she was sure that somewhere within herself lay a deep,
untapped well of eroticism.

Only now was it occurring to her that
the missing factor might be another woman’s touch. She’d never
thought of herself as bi-curious even though at times she’d
wondered what it might be like to be with a woman. She not only
hadn’t had the experience but had never seriously thought of
seeking it out. Chiara Bianchi had her rethinking that.

C
hiara called and offered Grace the position two days later.
She had considered calling her the very same day of their interview
but she felt that would be far too revealing. No sense in having
the young woman think that her selection had been a walkover and
she didn’t want Grace to think that she had been overly impressed.
When she did finally call, Chiara relished the sound of unguarded
excitement in Grace’s voice. She liked the fact that Grace was
still too young to hide her enthusiasm as a more studied and older
woman might have.

The newest addition to Smith,
Weinstein, Brooks & Bianchi always came to work early and
dressed immaculately. Chiara got along well with Grace from the
first day. Naturally as an intern Grace made a few initial missteps
but never the same one twice. She showed herself to be a quick
study and Chiara was more and more pleased with the choice she had
made.

Even though being able to share the
simpler aspects of her case load eased things considerably for
Chiara, each day stayed full. Almost full enough to distract her
from the increasing personal attraction she began to feel for
Grace. But there were odd moments when her thoughts strayed from
purely professional appraisal.

Grace had noticed that alongside the
older woman’s style her own choice of attire appeared almost
severe. Since Chiara was not given to ultra conservative dress
Grace was soon noticeably emulating that taste. Shortly after
receiving her first large advance, Grace appeared wearing a soft
white sweater of cashmere. It clung lovingly to her young, taut
body. Her vivid blue eyes contrasted beautifully with it and
somehow it made the girl seem both innocent and provocative at
once. Chiara noticed each time Grace wore this sweater. It made her
think of a white peach—young, delicate, tender. These were the odd
moments that began to bother Chiara…moments to guard
against.

It could have been her imagination but
every once in a while Grace seemed overly intent on her as well.
There were things…things like a lingering of hands when they passed
papers between each other. Looks that lasted a fraction of a second
too long or a blush when Chiara gave her a compliment.

There was a growing mutual awareness.
A desire to be in each others’ presence. Subtle but tangible.
Sheila soon remarked on it.

“I swear! You dote on Grace like an
aunt with a favorite niece…or more.” She said it with a knowing
smile

They had been together long enough for
Chiara to forgive such familiarity.

“Don’t be silly, Sheila. I’m just
helping her get her feet under her here.”

“I hope it’s just her feet you want
under her,” Sheila muttered to herself, moving away.

As was her custom, Sheila left early
that Friday evening, leaving Chiara still working hard on a brief.
Grace stayed late as well, working on the court
calendar.

Chiara sent Grace an instant
message.

The message appeared with a “Buzz” on
Chiara’s computer:

“Can you come into my office for a few
minutes, Grace? I have something to discuss with you.”

Grace quickly typed back, “Sure. I’ll
be right there.”

She got up and hurried to the door but
then turned back for a quick check in the small mirror on the
adjacent wall. She smoothed her hair, licked her lips, pinched her
cheeks and stopped to appraise herself.

‘What am I doing this for?’ she asked
herself silently and shook her head. It was silly acting like some
schoolgirl with a pash for her older schoolmistress.

“How ridiculous,” she muttered to
herself as she approached Chiara’s door. She knocked discreetly, to
which Chiara replied distractedly,

“Come.”

Grace entered with a tentative smile
and a little concern, hoping she hadn’t done anything
wrong.

“Please sit, Grace.”

As Grace sat quietly, she was able to
smell Chiara’s perfume. It was a lovely scent, a little metallic
and yet somehow sweet. It seemed to have grown stronger as the day
went on. She had noticed it that morning but it was far subtler
then.

It was late and the light through the
window was fading. The two women were both a little tired and
frazzled after a long week.

For several seconds, Chiara studied
Grace’s face before she spoke.

“Get some rest over the weekend
because come Monday we will really need to work hard on the
upcoming Flynn case, Grace.”

“Yes, of course.”

“I may need you to do some overtime
and,” she paused before going on “I may require more of you than
you’re accustomed to giving.”

Grace’s face grew hot. She knew that
Chiara didn’t mean this in a sexual way yet she felt aroused by the
statement for some strange reason. She was afraid that her
reddening cheeks would betray the fact. She hated her habit of
blushing so readily. Grace wasn’t quite sure of what to say, so she
simply nodded her head in agreement, finally saying,

“You can depend on me, Ms.
Bianchi.”

Chiara nodded but rather
than returning her attention to the file, her gaze held on Grace in
a way that was warm, full of feeling. It was a lingering
look
.
Grace was
wearing the white sweater that Chiara found so enticing.

From the start Grace had either sensed
or imagined feeling tiny waves of electricity from Chiara off and
on. At this moment some sort of current was definitely flowing
between them, strong and steady. Grace wanted more of whatever it
was…to know more, to feel more, to go further. Her confusion was
beginning to diminish and her desire becoming more
pronounced.

Impulsively, Chiara stood and moved
around behind Grace. She put her hands on Grace’s cashmere clad
shoulders and said softly, “Thank you for all the extra effort
you’ve been putting out, Grace. You are so helpful to
me.”

Grace caught a breath and held it as
she felt Chiara press in behind her until her breasts touched the
back of Grace’s hair.

The dimness had lent the office an air
of intimacy. Until this very instant Chiara had successfully
repressed her attraction to Grace…but this time her willpower
crumbled. As if with a mind of their own Chiara’s fingertips began
to explore the soft flesh through the fine wool. Grace sat frozen
as her down-turned eyes watched Chiara’s hands drift down to rest
on the tops of her breasts.

Grace’s body trembled slightly at
Chiara’s touch. Chiara leaned down with her lips and faintly kissed
the side of Grace’s forehead. Just as Chiara’s hot palms were
enclosing Grace’s firm breasts and her breathing intensified the
overhead lights snapped on. Chiara pulled her hands back as though
stung.

The maid service had arrived for
after-hours clean-up and the moment was lost.

Grace asked somewhat breathlessly, “Is
it all right, Ms. Bianchi, if I go for the day?”

Chiara smiled at her softly with a
sense of desire delayed and with a low voice replied, “Of course.
Have a lovely evening.”

The maid moved around the office
tending her chores while Chiara stood with her eyes still fastened
to the spot where Grace had been sitting. ‘What on earth possessed
me? I know better than this!’ Her cautionary mind screamed at her.
Mixing romance with work was like playing with fire. But a tactile
memory of the feel of Grace’s breasts under her hands came and hung
in her mind as she gathered her things to leave for the day. The
utter deliciousness of that memory warmed her heart and stilled the
warning voice in her head. It would be a long lonely
night.

“G
et some rest…” Chiara had advised her. But in her bed that
night sleep was eluding her. Grace’s blue eyes roamed the walls in
the dark and quiet of her room as she began to think about what had
happened.

She still felt a sense of delirium and
excitement as she thought of Chiara’s long beautiful fingers
stroking the tops of her breasts, and she remembered how her lips
had felt on the side of her forehead. As she lay in bed, she
realized that she was aroused and her hands slid down her body to
find her sex wet and swollen with desire.

Her uncertainties and doubts were not
present that morning. Her fingers sensuously explored the folds of
her pussy and enjoyed the wet deliciousness of it as she imagined
Chiara kissing her deeply on the lips. Grace had never been with a
woman before, and she had been with only a few men. This particular
experience was totally new and it felt a little taboo to her. She
knew that the kind of relationship that was developing between she
and Chiara was wrong because of the work ethics involved, but she
couldn’t stop herself. There was something about the very danger of
it all that intoxicated her.

She continued to probe her sex,
pushing her nimble fingers in and out, quickening her movements and
flicking her clit rapidly with her other hand as she fingered
herself. The smell of her own cum was in the air, and she relished
that odor. It smelled of desire, of inner pleasure, of pure sex.
The sweet soft sound of her pussy lips and their wetness against
her own quickly moving fingers aroused her more and
more.

Grace had seldom found this level of
arousal with anyone. In fact, she had not even felt it during
previous moments of self-pleasuring. Her hips came up off the bed
and as she was about to cum, she heard herself crying out “Chiara.
Chiara.”

She came so deeply that she felt
somewhat drunk afterward. Her body was quiet and still except for
the movement of her chest as she breathed hard. Her heart was
pounding.

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