A New Alexandra Ch. 12

"Sorry I'm late," said Kira. She pulled Alexandra back in for a kiss. More, please. "You look fabulous, honey. I thought I'd never get to see you in glasses."

And there's a reason for that, Alexandra thought, whipping the frames off her face and sitting.

Kira frowned, taking a seat on her side of the small table. "Something wrong?"

"No. Just didn't intend for you to see the glasses. I'm kinda self-conscious in them."

"And yet you're sitting in an enormous room in a hotel wearing them," said Kira. She wasn't wearing her own glasses, Alexandra noticed.

"I just wanted to look at the ceiling."

"It's pretty impressive, isn't it?"

"It's beautiful. By the way, you look fabulous, too." It was true: Kira wore skintight black pants with a white blouse and a black blazer over it. But the devil's in the details: the subtle texture in the jacket and the open buttons on the top of the blouse.

"I hadn't done my hair this way in a while," Kira said.

"You should do it that way more often." The long blonde strands were slicked back, almost like they were still wet. Combined with bold eye makeup it made for an intimidating package. "Anyway, it's been a long week. I can imagine you need a drink."

"I do. Did you order at the bar?"

Alexandra shook her head. A well-timed waiter appeared.

"I'd like one of whatever she's having. And may we please have some brownies to start and a menu?"

"Certainly, ma'am." The black-clad waiter flitted away as noiselessly as he'd appeared.

Kira turned back to Alexandra. "Ma'am? I don't look that old, do I?"

Alexandra sipped on her cider. "Well, he did call me 'miss,' so..."

Kira rolled her eyes. "So that's a yes, then. Great."

"Hey, I don't think you look a day over thirty, babe."

Her girlfriend leaned her head back, ignoring Alexandra while pretending to study the ceiling. "Now I know you're yanking my chain."

Alexandra stuck out her tongue. "And so what if I am, old lady?"

"Twenty-nine is old now?"

"Yes, an old lady who orders brownies in a bar. What's next, a glass of milk?"

"Your sarcasm, Miss Henderson, is overtaken by the facts. It happens that the brownies you are about to have are the holotype of brownies."

"Holotype?"

"Holotype," repeated Kira, running a hand over her slick coif. "It's a word you might have learned if you paid attention in school. A holotype is a fossil specimen used to define the characteristics of a new species."

Alexandra narrowed her eyes. "You've lost me. I've had one drink and you're speaking gibberish. That suggests it's a you problem, not me." Again she stuck out her tongue.

"These brownies," said Kira as the waiter slid them onto the table, "are the original recipe. The brownie was invented here at the Palmer House."

"I'm sorry, what?"

Kira picked up a gooey brownie and cocked her head. "You sure it's a 'me problem'? As I said, the brownie was invented here."

"I suppose it never occurred to me that the brownie was invented anywhere."

"I know," said Kira. "Can you imagine the horror of living in a world before brownies? But such was the sad state of affairs until 1893, when Bertha Palmer -- yes, for whom the hotel is named -- asked a chef to come up with a small handheld confection for the World's Fair. The result is in front of us." She bit into the confection, closing her eyes as she did so.

Alexandra picked up the other slice and cleared her throat. Kira had still not yet opened her eyes. "I suppose you don't need to imagine that world. Are these the same as the 1893 version?"

The green eyes stared back at her. "You irritating little strumpet, ruining my enjoyment of dessert."

"We haven't even had dinner yet!"

"Yeah," said Kira. "True." She picked up the menu that had been left between them. "Pretty literal minded, our waiter. I asked for 'a menu' and got exactly one menu. Anyway, we can have more brownies later. If you're nice." She eyed Alexandra over the menu, sipping her cider.

"You called me a strumpet. Seriously, that just proves you were there in 1893. It's the twenty-first century, Miss Manning, when women like me are called plain old sluts."

"Suit yourself, strumpet. I'll be having the duck." She passed the menu across. "By the way, Taylor Swift called. She wants her makeup back."

"I got that classic, red-lipped..."

"Jesus, Alex. I didn't want you to sing it. It's what, eight-fifteen and you're knocking back cider and singing Taylor Swift. That was a mighty quick comeback, though."

"I'm lightning on my feet...never miss a --"

"Good lord. Please tell me you're ready to order."

"Lamb, please," said Alexandra to the waiter, who had appeared over Kira's shoulder. "And a Manhattan. For when you're too sober for your date."

"Certainly, miss."

--

Eight-fifteen became nine-fifteen, then nine-thirty. The lamb was succulent, the drink was strong, and the lighting remained low and beautiful.

"So, a second round of brownies?"

"Please," Alexandra replied. "And I won't make fun of you about them this time."

"You most certainly will not, since I'm ordering a glass of milk for you."

Alexandra laughed, eliciting the same from Kira. There's something about her eyes when she laughs. They're just magical.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she reached to silence it.

"It's okay," said Kira. "This is a date, but it's not a first date. I'm not going to dump you for checking your phone."

You better not, Alexandra thought. For any reason. I'm way too smitten with you to even contemplate that.

She glanced at the phone, raised her eyebrows, and turned the screen to Kira. Kira shrugged and pulled out her own phone.

"Well," she said "it seems we're officially on equal friend terms with Mette and Meg, then."

Mette: Alexandra and that other chick who comes with her, you're invited to our place for New Year's Eve. Nine o'clock until whenever. Let us know!

Meg: Oh, and the no shoes rule in our house is suspended. So New Girl better bring her shoe game, or I'll send both of you home.

Mette: Or I'll send my wife home with Other Chick/Blondie and keep the better one for myself.

Meg: Ouch, counsel. New Girl, just a warning. Marriage is hell. Don't let Blondie talk you into it.

Mette: Yeah, she'll probably just handcuff you to the bed every night. We'd all hate that. Anyway, let us know!

Alexandra looked up to see Kira tapping out a message.

Kira: So you mean if Alexandra's shoes suck, I get to spend NYE alone with Meg?

Alexandra: Dirty soccer cleats it is, then :)

Alexandra: Don't worry, Mette. I'll change into heels once they're gone.

Meg responded instantly.

Meg: Careful what you wish for, New Girl. You'd have to play hostess. Mette always goes off to chat up the woman with the best abs.

Alexandra: In which case she'll be talking to me.

Mette: Truth.

Meg: Wait, wait, how did this go from a polite invitation to a discussion of New Girl's abs?

Mette: Wifey dear, you're the one who brought up her abs.

Alexandra: I've got some great fucking abs, Megan.

Kira: Truth.

Meg: Fine then. Are those abs coming to our New Year's party?

Alexandra and Kira exchanged glances.

Kira: They are. I might show up too.

Mette: Now, if you'll pardon us, I need to go teach my spouse some manners. Enjoy your night, ladies.

Both women put their phones aside.

"You know your relationship is on pretty solid terms when, in the middle of a date, you both whip out your phones and pile into the same group text," said Alexandra.

"Indeed."

The waiter appeared again.

"More brownies, please," said Alexandra.

"And another Manhattan for her," added Kira.

"But what about my abs, darling?"

"Brownies and a Manhattan, miss." The waiter blushed deeply -- an impressive feat considering his olive complexion -- and again vanished.

"Your abs will survive one brownie and another drink. Whether Meg's booty will survive what she's about to get is another matter."

"Oh?" Alexandra felt heat rise throughout her. Even the implied mention of my favorite kink can do that to me. Yikes.

Kira laughed. "Oh, hell yes. It's fair to say that Mette and Meg are into quite a lot of the same things we are. Including that one."

"I have to ask, you know." So not only are Mette and Megan Riis willing to have delightful shower sex with both of us, they're also kinky. Well, on top of the group sex.

"Ask what, sweetie?" Kira sipped her drink, licking her lips as she put down the glass.

"Have you...um..."

Kira crossed her legs and leaned forward. "Have I what?"

You're teasing me. The warmth in Alexandra's core was spreading, turning into an ache right between her thighs.

"Have I ever spanked Meg? Is that what you wanted to ask?"

Alexandra nodded. Her face tingled as the blush took over her whole visage.

"Oh, bold question, Henderson. You sure you want to know the answer?"

She nodded again.

"Well then." Kira winked. "The answer is hell fucking yes. In fact, Megan Riis was the first woman to whom I ever doled out a spanking. And her booty gets oh so red, dear."

The returning waiter nearly dropped the plate.

"One, um, Manhattan. And, um, um, brownies. Ma'am," he said, staring wide-eyed at Kira, then hustling away.

"See, he called me 'ma'am' again!"

"You're lucky he didn't run away, love. Don't ever chastise me for my manners. Or my jokes." She almost spilled the fresh drink from the laughter-induced shakes. "Seriously, I deserve an apology for having to be seen in public with you. Especially when you go on dates and talk about spanking married women."

"They weren't married then," replied Kira.

"Ah, that makes it a much more civilized topic for public discussion."

"Whatever," said Kira, picking up a brownie. "You liked hearing about it."

I did.

"So enjoy the brownie and the drink, my beautiful little skank. I'm putting together my apology right now." Kira picked up her phone and began tapping and scrolling.

"What are you doing?"

"Apologizing," said Kira. "I know I typically do that with my mouth somewhere else, but perhaps my fingers will need to do for now."

The warmth between Alexandra's legs again made its presence known. Well, hurry up so we can go home and you can 'apologize' properly, then.

Kira was engrossed in her phone. Alexandra pivoted on her chair, relishing the dim lighting and the shadows cast over the room. Other couples leaned towards one another over tables; the bar had grown more crowded; the blurry figures on the ceiling remained in their supervisory position over all.

It would be strange being up there, she thought, taking a too-large sip of whiskey. Looking at the tops of people's heads all day. Alexandra reached for her glasses again, pondering the figures individually.

"There," said Kira. "Apologized." She slid the phone into her purse. "Now finish your drink. We've got places to be."

"Oh?" She's got one of those sly grins on her face again.

"Oh. Don't worry, missy, it's not far. So if you're a little tipsy on those heels, just lean on me."

Instead of waiting for the beleaguered waiter to return, Kira paid the tab at the U-shaped bar.

What's not far? Alexandra pulled up a map on her phone. Oh, well the ice rink at the Bean is right nearby, but doesn't it close at 10? Another bar? Someplace she'd need to make a reservation?

"Ready?" Kira had returned and tossed her coat over her arm.

Alexandra stood. "Where to?"

"The front desk."

"Sorry?"

"The front desk. How many times tonight do I need to repeat myself, honey?"

"Until you start making sense. Ma'am."

"Good lord. Fine. We are going to the front desk because I booked us a room for the night."

"A hotel room. In a city we live in."

"Mhm. I wouldn't quite expect someone who is mystified by the origin of brownies to be quick on the uptake, but...Alexandra, it's not about the sleeping, dear."

Oh. Right.

"I figured hotel sex would be a nice apology. Yes?"

Yes. "Well...I mean, you're giving me so much crap you might just owe me a second apology then."

"Fine, fine. I can get you a room service brownie if you really insist."

They had exited the high-ceiling central hall and descended a staircase to the front desk. I'm managing much better in super-high heels, Alexandra thought, looking down at the black stilettos. And just as well we're staying here. Stilettos and Chicago in December equals slipping on black ice equals broken heel equals very sad Alexandra.

"Hey, uh, space cadet?" Kira was looking at her with some concern. "You okay there?"

"Oh. Yes. I was just thinking about slipping on ice and breaking my heel."

"Ah, yes, completely normal," said the blonde, approaching a smiling desk clerk.

"Hi, welcome to the Palmer House Hilton. How can I help you?"

Lexi, the woman's name tag read. Cute, too. Blonde ringlets, rosy cheeks, big eyes.

"Hi, I just made a reservation online," Alexandra cut in. "Manning. Kira Manning."

Kira rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

"Welcome, Ms. Manning. Can I see a form of ID and a credit card?"

Busted.

Kira opened her own wallet and handed over her license and a card. "I'm actually Kira. This lady here is drunk on brownies. And maybe a Manhattan or two."

To her credit, the desk clerk laughed.

"Ooh," she said. "Lucky you. Seems you've been upgraded to a suite." She frowned. "Um, I guess this is a little awkward to ask, but is one king bed okay?"

"One king bed is more than okay," replied Kira.

Now it was Alexandra's turn to roll her eyes while the clerk blushed. And she's giving Kira a full top-to-bottom -- well, top-to-waist -- inspection while she does it. The little tramp.

"As you can see, the actual Ms. Manning is also a bit drunk on brownies. And her own self-assessed awesomeness. Something like that?"

The clerk ran a hand through her hair, giggling. "Ladies, if you think you're the weirdest people I deal with in this job, you've got a lot of surprises coming." She slid two key cards across the smooth marble surface. "Have a wonderful night. And if you need anything, call down here. Ask for Lexi, okay?"

Jesus. She might as well have licked her lips with that last look at Kira.

"Lexi, eh?" Kira pressed the elevator button for the sixteenth floor. "Cute nickname for a familiar full name, yes?"

"Oh, leave it alone. Little hussy stole my name. Next she wants to steal you, by the looks of it." She crossed her arms, pretending to pout.

"Hussy?"

"You called me a strumpet, and you have a problem with 'hussy'?"

"No, I just didn't realize we had gone back to the 1930s with our insults full-time."

"Whatever," said Alexandra, nestling into Kira's arms. "Are we gonna like, start making out? We're halfway up to our floor."

"Strumpet," whispered Kira, dipping her head to kiss Alexandra. The taste of whisky on their lips mingled momentarily. Mmmm.

Then the elevator door dinged.

"Ugh, which room?"

"Tsk, tsk. What's the hurry? I thought you might wait until next week to finish that drink." Kira grabbed Alexandra's hand, guiding her down the lushly carpeted hallway.

"It tasted really good."

"Did it? Well, I might have some ideas for something that tastes even better."

"Oooh, did you order more brownies?"

"Alexandra, I'm either going to marry you someday or fling you out the window this very evening. Your pick." She stopped in front of a door at the hallway's end.

"You can toss me, as long as I get a brownie first."

"Oh. My. God."

"Besides, I doubt the windows..." Oh. She might not have been talking about my joke. The room had a full-size living/dining area, with a dining room table large enough for six chairs. A TV nearly the size of the windows hung from one wall. The bedroom opened off the sitting area.

"Dress off, Alexandra," said Kira, opening the curtains.

Opening them? She pulled the dress over her head, piling it on top of her jacket.

"Good. Now, about that makeout?"

"Yes, please."

Kira quickly enveloped her, pushing her against the large table, then down onto it.

"You don't get to tease me about those abs at dinner and then keep your dress on, do you?"

Mmmm, no. I don't. Her girlfriend's full lips rapidly moved down her body, from her breastbone to just above the waistband of her lacy panties.

"Oh, right, a makeout," said Kira. She slid on top of Alexandra, pinning the slimmer woman against the shiny wooden surface. Their lips met, tongues probing each other's hungry mouths.

Another night of firsts. Making out on a table in a hotel suite, a curtain of blonde hair all around my face. Alexandra greedily kissed her partner, pulling at the fabric of Kira's blouse.

"It has buttons, honey." Kira popped one open, then rolled sideways so Alexandra could handle the rest. Her kisses moved to Alexandra's neck, her jawbone, then to her ear, where they transmuted to an aggressive nibble.

Yes, please. Alexandra's heart pounded. Kira placed a hand on each side of her torso, pinning her with her body. Fine. Gonna get that stupid shirt off you, then.

"Nice job, slut," growled Kira, tossing the white top aside. Alexandra immediately went to work behind her girlfriend's back, unclasping her bra. It fell onto Alexandra's chest. "In a hurry, are we? Need the post-sex brownie?"

Kira's hands roamed around Alexandra's torso, tracing the top and bottom of her bra before the fingers teased her flat stomach.

"Mmm, abs." Kira followed her girlfriend's centerline with the tip of her tongue, pulling the panties down an inch to tease the bare mound. "And more."

Alexandra's legs were wrenched apart. The cool tabletop on the backs of her thighs sent a shiver up her spine, contrasting sharply with the pulsing heat of the rest of her body. Kira's fingers rested delicately on the front of her panties, then pressed down into the soaking slit.

"Over here," said Kira, abruptly taking Alexandra by the hands and pulling her upright. Alexandra felt herself stumbling towards the wall. Four-inch heels; occupational hazard anywhere.

Another shiver went through her, this time from the frigid window pressed against her back. Kira's mouth and hands worked systematically across her body. She felt her bra fall away, softly landing on the carpet.

Alexandra moaned. Her girlfriend's breasts pressed hard against her own, hands holding Alexandra's head in place. The kissing became fevered, desperate. And I'm against a window. People down there on the street can see us.