Lighting a Flame Ch. 01

"This is what your husband and I have to look forward to when we make Senior Partner," Luke quipped with a grin. "You two ladies are in for a real treat."

"Until then, we'll slum it," Emily dryly replied, glancing at them over the brim of her glass.

Beth giggled as she sipped at her wine. There was her shy friend's sardonic humour again. "But not for ever," she added, going along with the joke. "Beautiful women like us have expectations for the finer things of life."

"Of course," Harry beamed. "That's why you married such playboys. Which of the fat bloke's is that singing?"

Emily rolled her eyes. The operatic music being piped in from somewhere added to the grand feel of the place. "That's my husband for you," she murmured. "Probably thinks its Rhydian."

"Rhydian?" Luke asked, lowering his eyebrows.

"Don't ask," she smiled. Her husband hated the X Factor.

"And these pictures," Harry continued, his eyes rising to the tall ceiling and then flickering around the walls. "Do you think they're pictures are real or fake?

Emily nudged him in the ribs. "Roger painted them, didn't you know?"

His mouth dropped open. "Really?"

Beth couldn't help laughing. "Pul...lee-ease..."

"Always been gullible," Emily told Beth out of the corner of her mouth. The women playfully shook their heads at one another while the two men grinned inanely.

"Want another drink?" Harry asked Luke, holding up his empty beer glass.

Luke shook his head. "A man can only take so much non-alcoholic," he moaned.

Harry pulled a face. "Wimp. Don't let Roger catch you drinking that stuff. He'll fire you on the spot."

"I hope not," Beth interrupted, nodding over their shoulders. Even without his jacket, Roger Mantle couldn't help but look formal. "He's heading your way."

"Another discussion about work," Emily sighed, pulling Beth to one side. A couple of bands of her coppery hair kept falling over her right eye despite her continued efforts to secure them behind her ear. Beth smiled. The petite woman looked as cute as she always did. "I saw you chatting to Mrs. Mantle..."

"You've met her?" Beth asked.

"Not until today. What do you think?"

What did she think? Her kindred spirit was a sexy bitch, Beth giggled to herself. She and Annabelle were two sexy bitches...

She shook off the warm thought and settled for, "She seems very nice."

Emily reached out, putting her hand on Beth's arm as she leant closer. Her voice lowered, as if she didn't want to be overheard. "Nice? She's hot."

Beth wasn't sure if it was the touch or Em's words that made her body tingle. Her glossy red lips parted in surprise. They were the last thing she'd have expected her shy friend to even think, let alone say. She'd never heard Emily talk that way about another man, let alone a woman. Even her green eyes seemed to have taken on an extra gleam.

"I'm not that way," the petite woman continued. "But if I ever thought about changing sides, I'd want Annabelle Mantle to be the one to turn me..."

Beth burst out laughing. "Emily!"

Her friend giggled like a schoolgirl and held up her half empty glass. "I know. Awful isn't it. I've had too much to drink. They say it brings out the true you. I might be lesbian after all, but then I think of Harry's cock and realise I'm not."

"Emily!" This time it was shock. Beth was seeing a new side to her friend. One that she liked...

Emily grinned, blowing the errant strands out of her eye and then fixing them back behind her ear again. "When you get to know me real well," she giggled, tapping her chest. "There's a real tiger in here."

"There certainly is," Beth chuckled, looking at Em in a new light. She was prettier than she usually allowed herself to look. With just a touch more blusher, she'd be able to make those fabulous cheekbones even more prominent. And she had a tight little body, too. Why she usually disguised it in an ill fitting dress amazed her.

Emily threw back the last of her wine. "Okay, water only from now on," she laughed, blinking a couple of times. It brought her freckles into greater prominence. "You're my conscience."

"As long as that doesn't mean I have to follow suit," Beth murmured, accepting another glass of wine from one of the waiter's still attending to the guests.

"What the hell," Emily said, grabbing another glass. "I'm too far gone to care." She glanced around and her eyes settled on Annabelle Mantle across the room. "She and Roger don't seem a natural fit, do they?"

Beth wrinkled her nose. She'd already thought the same thing. "Because...?"

Em sent her a disbelieving look. "She's young and sexy. He's old and boring."

"He's not old, he's just a few years older than her," Beth corrected, flashing her eyes in that conspiratorial way that women have. "But yes, they don't seem much of a match. He seems pretty stuffy and is all work. Annabelle is fun, vibrant and..."

"Sexy," Emily finished for her.

The two women chuckled. "Okay," Beth conceded. "I agree. She is."

***

Throughout their journey home, Beth had been feeling horny. They'd dropped Harry and Emily off first—their home wasn't that far out of their way, after all—and it occurred to her that like her petite friend, she'd had too much to drink.

She'd never seen little Em in that mood before and it still made her chuckle to herself. So did the conversation they'd had about Annabelle Mantle. Emily seemed infatuated and while Beth wasn't into women, she could understand why. The blonde woman had even managed to make her feel sexy. Maybe their contact had added to her feelings of arousal?

She glanced at Luke. Her handsome husband was humming to himself as he was driving. So cute! The thought of re-enacting the Michael Douglas-Jeanne Tripplehorn scene when they got home had been bubbling away at the back of her mind. She reached over for the radio button, flicking through the stations until she found classic rock.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, dropping her hand to his crotch as she pretended to steady herself when he took a corner.

His eyes widened in surprise as he turned to look at her.

She gently squeezed.

"Fuck, Beth, I'm driving."

"Better keep your eyes on the road, then" she huskily retorted, tracing the growing outline through his trousers. There was no way she could wait until they got home.

"Beth..." he unconvincingly began to object.

"That's me," she giggled, instantly making the decision and unbuckling her seatbelt.

Luke saw the look in her soulful eyes. "Beth...!"

"That's me," she chuckled, twisting around towards him. Her hands yanked at his seatbelt, the clink of its clasp eclipsing the sound of his gasp.

"Fuck Beth..."

"Has anyone ever blown you while you were driving?" she sultrily asked.

Her dark eyes gleamed at him as she seductively bit on a fingernail. Her brows rose in anticipation. Holding his eyes for a few brief seconds, she tugged the sides of his trousers apart and dragged his cock through the gap.

"Hard already," she purred approvingly, pushing her dark brown hair over one shoulder. "Watch the road..."

When his gaze returned to the traffic, her long fingers stroked his hardness and then squeezed more tightly around his girth. Gathering saliva in her mouth, she sexily allowed it to dribble down onto his shaft before rubbing it in with both hands.

"Oh, God..."

"He won't help you," she murmured as her wet mouth descended on him. Her dark eyes flashed upwards as her tongue swirled wickedly across his cock. "Watch the road," she urgently repeated.

She sexily licked around his crown as if it was the top of an ice cream cone. He grunted and stiffened back against his seat. When his hand reached for her hair, she sucked him inside. He began to respond—how could he resist?—slowly beginning to throb in her mouth.

When he stopped at some traffic lights, her head shot upwards. Her tongue slid into his mouth at the same time as her hand pushed his trousers further down his legs. It allowed her to caress his balls. The sound of the horn from the car behind told them the lights had changed. The car jerked like he was a learner driver attempting a hill start as they pulled away.

Beth went back to work, going at him much more aggressively than normal. The wickedness of the situation was registering between her thighs. Maybe they could stop somewhere? When one of his hands found her hair again, she hoped the other was firmly on the steering wheel. His hips inadvertently rose a little with each downward suck. He couldn't help himself.

The pained look on his face as she looked up made her pause. Teasingly tracing her expert tongue along his length, she bathed it in saliva before taking him all the way into her throat. The hand on his balls felt them tighten and she pulled away immediately, allowing him a few seconds to calm down. When his breathing returned to normal she licked a drop of pre cum from the head before continuing the exquisite torture. He was close. She could feel it.

It was like playing with dynamite....

"Beth," he gasped, feeling his balls begin to boil.

She felt him try to hold back his climax. No chance! Her dark eyes smiled and she plunged down again, deep throating him until she felt the heavy outpouring of creamy man juice. She took it all and then her sweeping tongue began to lick him clean.

"Not long before we get home," she purred, sliding back across into her seat. "Think you'll be ready again?"

"Have I ever not been?" he sly smiled, allowing her to zip him up.

Beth grinned. That was true. Ever since they'd met they'd always been unable to keep their hands off themselves. She reached for her mobile when it buzzed, stretching like a cat as the contentment of the moment washed over her.

It was a text from Annabelle Mantle. Fancy meeting for dinner soon?

***

Thoughts she shouldn't be thinking

Beth was fifteen minutes late when she hurried into the wine bar. It had been typical that something should come up at the last moment after such a slow news day, particularly as she was anxious to leave the office on time tonight.

Murphy's law!

With the guys already heading to the pub, Barrie Evans had passed it to her. "You're the best at these types of stories," the grizzly editor had said.

"And the most convenient," she'd sarcastically replied, but she couldn't refuse. She owed the bald headed man more than one favour. He'd taken a chance on her by moving her through the ranks so quickly and had guided her through the occasional choppy seas, even when she'd begun to doubt herself. Now she was recognised as the paper's leading reporter.

A quick text to Annabelle explained her predicament, allowing her to concentrate on the task in hand. Half an hour later, she'd composed and filed as thorough and as interesting a story as she could in the circumstances. Barrie would be pleased...

She waved as she rushed across to the blonde haired woman. Annabelle looked every bit as good as she had at the barbeque. Instead of the flowery top, this one was plain—cream—and just as low cut. The low rise jeans were blue this time, but still hung perfectly from her slender hips. And that face—the more Beth looked at her the more she saw Susan George.

What was she doing married to someone as staid as Roger Mantle?

"You look hot," she found herself saying and immediately cursed herself. Hot? Where did that word come from?

"You too," Annabelle grinned, casually brushing away the loose strands of blonde hair that fell across her beautiful blue-hazel eyes.

"Me?" Beth gasped, settling into the barstool beside her. "Hardly. I had intended to freshen up before I left the office but I haven't had time. With the guys heading for the pub, my boss wanted me to handle a breaking story."

"And you have?"

"Yes, I've filed five hundred words. That'll keep him happy."

"Good. In that case we can relax now. What would you like?"

"A gin and tonic," Beth said. She'd forgotten how husky Annabelle Mantle's voice was. "I've needed a drink for the last hour."

"Two G&T's," Annabelle smiled at the bartender and then turned back. "And now you can have one. Or two or three... As you were delayed I put back our dinner reservation for an hour. Roger, Luke and Harry will be working late on the Smithson case, so we can work up an appetite while we catch up on everything that's been happening since we last met. It'll be nice to have some time without the men peering over our shoulders..."

"Exactly," Beth smiled. "So, what brings you to this part of London?"

"Apart from our dinner date?" Annabelle smiled, taking the drinks from the bartender. She handed a glass to Beth. "My Health Club is nearby and I've had the most amazing massage."

"You have?" Beth's eyes shot wide. "I'd give a million pounds for one now. But I guess this will do instead." As if to reinforce the point, she took a heavy sip and then smacked her lips.

Annabelle laughed and took a sip of her own. "Refreshing," she admitted, "but nothing compared to Tameka. She's simply amazing." Her head shot up. "I have an idea. How would you like it if I booked you in? My treat."

"You're treat? I couldn't..."

"Of course you can. I have a special deal with them. You must take advantage..."

The brunette laughed nervously. Could she? Why not? "In that case... I'll take you up on that, Annabelle. Yes, yes, I will. Thanks very much."

"Excellent," the blonde smiled, patting the back of Beth's hand as if that sealed the deal. She glanced around. "So, this is where you guys congregate after work?"

Beth shook her head, running her fingers through her hair. "We only come here if we have a meal. Usually it's the Black Ox for a drink. The guys call it the last of the real man's pubs. They should know. They spend long enough in there. I usually go home after a swift one and they make a night of it."

"Such stamina," Annabelle laughed.

"Typical of the newspaper profession," Beth confessed with a wide grin. "Even in these enlightened times."

"They're all men?"

"All of them are men," Beth corrected, smiling at the play on words. "There is a difference..."

Annabelle nodded in understanding and then leant forward conversationally. She dropped her hand onto Beth's bare forearm and stroked her soft, bare skin as she spoke. "They ever try to hit on you?"

The brunette thoughtfully inclined her head. "Hit on me?" Strange question. She paused for a moment. "Well, yes, I guess they half-heartedly did in the early days. I never paid it too much attention, though."

"You didn't fancy any of them?" The twinkle in her eyes was infectious.

Beth laughed. She crossed her shapely legs in a way that caused the short hem of her blue dress to ride higher. "I'm married," she simply said, smoothing the dress back into place.

"You don't window shop? I thought all we women did?" There was that twinkle again.

Beth shifted on her seat. Was she being teased? She and Luke were completely in love and there wasn't the slightest chance of either of them overstepping the mark. "We all look, but that's as far as it'll go." Her deep eyes focused on Annabelle. Two could play at this game. "Unless you're different?"

The blonde's laugh was low and husky. "Not in the way you think."

Beth stared into the steady eyes. They were unreadable. She planted her elbow on the bar and rested her head on her hand. "Okay, you got me..."

"Women."

"Woman?" she gasped. If it was Annabelle's intention to shock she succeeded.

"I'm into women. Does that shock you?"

Beth shrugged her shoulders. "Yes... well, no... well, yes actually."

When Annabelle laughed at her confusion, it was impossible not to join in. She hadn't anticipated this conversation. Who would have thought? Then it hit her. Was this why...

"No."

Beth stared into those knowing hazel-blue eyes. "No, what?"

Annabelle raised her eyebrows. "Don't deny it. The first thing a straight woman wonders when another woman confesses her sexual preference is whether she's being hit on. Right?"

"Not really," Beth lied a little uneasily. She picked up her drink, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You are straight, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course," The answer was probably a little too quick. She felt her blush rise, this time accompanied by shivers.

Annabelle just laughed. "That's another thing straight women do..."

"What?"

"Say things like, of course. As if we're talking about some ailment. But this is the twenty-first century, Beth. There are probably as many bisexual women as there are straight."

The brunette shifted uncomfortably on the barstool. Were there? Her eyes found Annabelle's. The woman smiled at her as she raised her eyebrows and pursed her pink lips. They were full and glossy—and very kissable.

Damn, she hadn't really just thought that, had she?

She studied the blonde's face. It wasn't just that the woman was good looking, she realised. It was the Susan George thing. Luke had described the actress as knowing how to get down and dirty with a man. Did Annabelle Mantle have those same qualities? Except, with women?

"Don't worry," her companion laughed, bringing her out of thoughts she knew she shouldn't be having. "You're just my type. But if I was going to hit on you there are much better ways than being so obvious."

The brunette felt a lick of heat across her neck. She was just her type? "There are?" she slowly said. She didn't mean it to be a question. The words just seemed to pop out, more in an attempt to defuse the sudden sexual tension than anything else.

Annabelle picked up her glass and those sexy eyes stared at her flustered friend over the brim. "Of course. It's much more fun when the straight woman realises how much she wants the other woman. More fulfilling."

Beth was too busy controlling her breathing to respond. The blonde was very measured in the way she spoke and her lilting voice was soft. It wasn't just the words that were getting under her skin. It was the tone, too. Emily's words floated back into her mind. I'm not that way. But if I ever thought about it, I'd want Annabelle Mantle to be the one to turn me...

"And whether we admit it or not," the sexy woman continued, taking advantage of the lull. "We've all had those feelings, haven't we?" Her husky voice was matter of fact, as if she was stating a truth that was inarguable.

Silence covered them again. It took a lot to knock Beth of kilter but this woman had succeeded. She knew she should speak, but wasn't sure what to say. "Annabelle, I'm—" she eventually began, sipping at her drink as she searched for the right words.

The blonde cut her off. "Want to go to bed with me..."

Beth coughed on the wine she was sipping, her wide eyes registering her surprise and alarm.

Annabelle burst out laughing, covering her mouth as her laugh grew louder. "Gotcha..."

Beth took the tissue that her friend had produced from somewhere and dabbed at the spilt wine on her dress. "Very funny," she snapped, sending her friend a wry smile.

"I love that look on your face," Annabelle chuckled. She gracefully slid off her stool as the waiter appeared beside them and gathered their glasses. "Come on, you can tell me over the meal tell about how you and Luke met. You make such a perfect match..."

***

Beth smiled when she heard Luke's car pull into the garage. His apologetic phone call before starting his homeward journey had explained that the Smithson case was proving to be more problematical than he, Harry or Roger had anticipated. That's why he'd be so late.

She knew he'd have flowers...

He entered the house quietly even though the bedroom light was still on, as if he was afraid of disturbing her. That was her husband—always thoughtful. He needn't have worried tonight. It wasn't sleep on her mind.