Her One Indiscretion

{Mona} RJ, Fiona asked me to let you know that she's staying at The Brackenridge tonight. Room 1208. She wanted me to tell you that she's eager to continue her conversation with you.

"DON'T HIT SEND!" Liz shouted, "What the fuck, honey!!???"

Mona's finger hovered over the "send" button, "This is all Fiona, Liz. It's what she wants. And don't look at me like that! You're the one who invited RJ!"

"Jesus," Liz muttered.

"I was super clear about RJ's track record. I promise. She wants this. Honest!"

"We're about to set off the beginnings of a massive scandal," Liz whispered as she ran her eyes over the text Mona just typed out.

"Maybe not," Mona countered, "RJ's like a fricking vault." With a little squeal, Mona hit "send."

"But there're like, a million cameras, and staff..."

"Fiona knows how to manage all that. It's her hotel, for god's sake. She wants this. I think she knows she's out of her protective bubble for one night and one night only. She needs this."

RJ smiled when she got the text. There was still a chance Fiona would back off from letting anything happen, but it was worth seeing where the evening took them. RJ liked spinning the roulette wheel in situations like this; she liked the aura of surprise, the unexpected.

Fiona didn't have to wait long before she heard a soft, but confident, knock on her door. I just made a booty call. Holy shit. I just made a booty call and she's here.

Fiona opened the door. RJ grinned and raised a hand in greeting.

Holy shit she looks amazing. "Hi! I didn't know if you'd come."

RJ quirked an eyebrow.

Fiona blushed when she realized the double entendre she'd uttered, "Um, why don't you come... er... come in... come in here..." Holy shit, I just did it again.

RJ smiled and walked into the room, "Nice digs."

"Thanks. One of the perks of owning a hotel chain. A convenient hideaway right in the middle of the city."

RJ nodded in understanding.

"So," Fiona settled on the sofa in the room and patted it for RJ to join her, "What were we talking about? You know, before you disappeared on me." What the hell am I doing? Making small talk? Really??!!

RJ obliged, seemingly happy to engage in the absurdly banal, and sat down next to Fiona, "Your birthday party last month where you fielded some inappropriate questions from your parents on a date you brought..."

"Ah yes. My parents were first upset that I didn't have a date, and then when I actually brought a date, they found it necessary to litigate his presence." No need to elaborate that I purposefully chose someone whom I knew would inflame a reaction... Fiona smiled at the memory, feeling the small victory of public defiance. She'd long ago given up the idea of finding a soul mate - being next in line for a high-profile family business made it next to impossible. It didn't help to be compared constantly to her younger sister, who was happily married with two boys to boot. Benji can take on the mantle the moment he graduates from college; I can retire and die in obscurity.

RJ looked incredulous, "Yes, because being in your thirties means who you date is still fair game for parental veto."

"Forties, RJ. I turned forty last month."

"Liar!" RJ was surprised. It made sense, of course: Fiona and Mona were contemporaries in college. Both of them looked young for their age. RJ often forgot the Mona was older than her by a decade.

"Truth! Saggy boobs and diminishing sex drive all coming right up!" Fiona was stunned by the words that came out of her mouth. Where did that come from?

"First, I highly doubt the saggy boobs part..." RJ's eyes swept confidently across Fiona's chest.

Fiona almost let out a small whimper. RJ watched Fiona's lips part slightly in reaction to her deliberate visual caress. Perfect.

"Second, no time like the present to take one's sex drive for a spin..." RJ's mouth curled confidently into a cocky grin.

Fiona placed both her hands flat on her lap and said, with some skepticism to test RJ's resolve, "Here? On the sofa, RJ?"

RJ had to recalibrate; she didn't want to move too quickly, even though Fiona was putting out all the right signals. She leaned forward and studied Fiona for a moment before shrugging with a boyish charm. In closing the distance between them RJ got another good sign: Fiona's eyes gleamed for a nano-second and never flinched.

"I'm up for it if you are... and the sofa is but one of many options..." RJ began quietly. She placed her index finger on the top of Fiona's middle finger and gently stroked it.

Fiona's eyes and skin were mesmerized by RJ's touch. The older woman tilted her head, "You sound tremendously confident... might I remind you that I think quite a number of things would need to happen before... um... anything could happen...?"

RJ almost didn't catch the understated wink that Fiona sent her way, but there was no mistaking the direction the night was headed. There was a lot to appreciate about the current situation: The verbal preening, the burgeoning chemistry, the spontaneity of the connection. RJ took a lot of flak most days for playing the field, but she saw no reason to contemplate settling down when evenings like this existed.

RJ pressed her case, "Ah! Clarity of purpose. I like a woman with a plan. Which one of those 'number of things' should we tackle first?"

Fiona laughed nervously, "I don't know!

RJ took Fiona's hand and kissed it, "There are many options: more kissing... disrobing... talking... or all three at the same time... or we could simply talk. Your call."

Fiona was having what could only be described as a mental crisis. RJ was right there, completely open to whatever Fiona wanted. In whichever way the next couple of hours unfolded, it would be at Fiona's discretion... or indiscretion, as it were.

"I don't know what to do," she confessed, "I told Mona I wanted to disassociate from my usual bubble of a life, I don't..." Fiona felt uselessly inarticulate.

"We can just talk," RJ offered sincerely. She didn't want to push.

"I don't want to just talk," Fiona shook her head.

RJ's pulse jumped, "That's fine, too."

Fiona laughed nervously.

"Come here," RJ leaned forward.

Fiona complied and RJ lightly brushed their lips against each other. Fiona loved it. She scooted closer, her entire body buzzing.

They kissed for minutes... hours... an eternity. RJ's hands had been tangled in Fiona's hair all this time, but they started to venture lower. RJ grasped Fiona's waist and pulled her closer, earning her a moan that resonated deep from within Fiona.

RJ's hands wandered further, and cupped Fiona's breasts for the first time.

"Holy shit!" breathed Fiona. This was a different kind of foreplay altogether. In her experience, foreplay was a cursory - and mostly enjoyable - preamble to the sex act. This was a whole new experience: RJ seemed to be in no hurry at all, she was deliberately and attentively stimulating every single one of her thirty-five billion skin cells. Fiona was certain that if she'd been a guy, she'd have been done for a long while ago.

"Bed. Bed!" Fiona shrieked as RJ's thumbs made a pass across her nipples. The fabric of her dress proved no defense against RJ's touch.

RJ stood and offered her hand to Fiona.

Fiona wasn't sure she was going to be able to stand with any dignity, RJ had completely destroyed all semblance of physical coordination. Once she managed to get to her feet, she became acutely aware of the area between her legs and the effects of RJ's ministrations. < i> Jesus. What is she doing to me? I'm not some clueless virgin who's never had sex before! But holy shit I'm so wet...

Somehow, Fiona found herself lying on the room's massive king-sized bed. RJ had - magically, it seemed - removed the covers... and just as magically, removed her dress. Fiona, a practiced hand in the area of self-administered pleasure, was having a hard time adjusting to RJ's dominating and confident tempo. Fiona blinked and tried to focus on everything RJ was doing to her. Her eyes finally worked again, only to see RJ's mouth descending upon her bra-encased breasts.

"OH!" Fiona yelled as she felt RJ's probing tongue work its way across each nipple.

RJ loved making a woman submit to pleasure. Fiona was a beautiful and arousing partner. RJ gently removed Fiona's bra and the moment her breasts were revealed, smothered them with attention. Fiona couldn't form words anymore, her body was pulsing with need. RJ removed the last piece of underwear and feasted on Fiona's sex. A deep, guttural moan erupted from Fiona's mouth. It felt like RJ's fingers and tongue were everywhere, inside, outside, on her breasts, gripping her thighs... Fiona had never come this hard before. She didn't know it was possible.

But RJ's instincts told her that Fiona wasn't anywhere near done, which suited RJ just fine. Her talented tongue forged new paths and new ways to please Fiona, who felt herself carried on wave after wave of orgasmic joy. Fiona found herself once more surprised. She had never come this hard, this many times before. Holy shit...

RJ watched Fiona come down off her climax. She crawled up and stretched out next to Fiona. RJ loved this moment: a woman breathing in post-coital bliss was simple perfection. It was a perfection made all the better because she knew there would be no epilogue to this evening. There would be no lover's tiff or relationship complexity to mar the memory of this moment.

The two women recovered in a comfortable silence. Fiona finally opened her eyes and saw RJ looking at her, "How did you do that?"

RJ smiled, "I think you did most of it."

"You're still fully dressed," Fiona reached for RJ's shirt, "That doesn't seem right..."

RJ shook her head, "No, it's all about you tonight." Why ruin a good thing? Leave now and everyone goes to sleep happy.

Fiona tilted her head, "That doesn't seem right," she said again.

RJ leaned down and kissed her on the nose, "You have travel plans tomorrow, and I have a breakfast meeting in a few hours. It's late."

Fiona looked at the clock and was shocked to see that it was almost two in the morning. RJ sat up and tucked her shirt into her pants.

Without thinking, Fiona murmured, "One and done..."

"Sorry?" RJ turned to face Fiona.

"Mona. She said you moved on quickly. 'One and done,' she said. I mean, this works out well for me... but you really don't linger, do you?"

RJ shrugged, "I like leaving on a high note."

"What if there are higher notes that you miss out on because you don't stick around?"

"Things get complicated if you stick around," RJ explained, "I prefer things not getting complicated."

Fiona nodded, "Fair enough." She sat up and wrapped a bed sheet around herself.

"I had fun tonight," RJ grinned, "and guess what?"

"What?"

RJ walked over to the door and turned back with mischief in her eyes, "You definitely don't have saggy boobs and you definitely do not have a diminishing sex drive. I can attest to those two facts, for sure."

Fiona turned beet red and had a look of pure panic on her face.

RJ strode back to the bed and sat down until she was looking right at Fiona, "Hey. Hey. Fiona. I was kidding. I won't say anything to anyone. I promise."

Fiona's gut instinct was to trust RJ, "Okay," she nodded, "Okay."

"Seriously," RJ took Fiona's hand and squeezed, "I won't tell a soul about any of this. Not even Liz and Mona."

"Not even your future wife?" Fiona teased.

"Very funny. There'll definitely be no future wife," RJ stated firmly, "It's all good."

"Never say never, RJ," Fiona sang out, "Spousal privilege. It's a real thing."

"You want real? There are three things in life that will always be true: death, taxes, and me not ever getting married," RJ headed towards the door, "Simplicity, not complications, one hundred percent guaranteed."

Fiona flopped backwards into the pillows once RJ had gone. "Holy shit," she said out loud. She replayed the night in her head again and again. It felt more and more surreal the more she thought about it. And then... out of nowhere... I wonder if this is what it would feel like if Marlo and I had sex...

Oh. Oh!

"Holy. Shit." Those were the only words Fiona could coherently produce. Marlo... sex with Marlo... hmmmm... sex with Marlo... Fiona felt a delicious quivering that has nothing to do with RJ.

"Holy shit," Fiona muttered again. The long hidden truth was irrepressible now. RJ's ministrations were orgasmically clarifying. Fiona wanted more... but not from the charming butch lesbian that recently left her hotel room... she wanted it from the one who'd been sitting in the gilded cage with her all along.

On auto-pilot, Fiona reached for her phone and texted Marlo, {Fiona} What are you doing?" She wondered if Marlo was already in bed with someone else. Fiona squeezed her eyes shut. The jealousy twisted and curled around itself with urgency. This was why she had never let the flirting with Marlo to get beyond the casual jokes. But it was too late now, she'd finally admitted the truth: She wanted Marlo... all to herself.

She stared at her phone, willing Marlo to abandon her tryst and respond. When her phone remained stubbornly silent, she crawled under the covers and switched off the light. Going to sleep seemed to be the only possible way to stop her brain from imploding with its latest revelation.

As she was about to drift off to sleep though, her phone rang. Fiona snapped the light on and answered the call. It was Marlo and it looked like she was in the middle of a party in full swing.

"Where the hell are you?" Fiona mumbled, wrapping the sheets around herself.

Fiona's nakedness did not escape Marlo's notice, but she pretended not to care, "Cassie Beaumont's house. Why are you up so late?"

Fiona's eyebrows shot up, "The Cassie Beaumont from that superhero franchise? She invited you to her house?"

"Sure," Marlo tried not to let her eyes roam over Fiona's sheet-encased form, "She was at one of those reunion talks and she invited me over."

Fiona's heart clenched, knowing full well what Marlo had in store for the night, "Okay. Go have fun. I'll see you when you get back."

"Wait!" Marlo frowned, "It's like, almost three in the morning for you, right? Are you okay, Fiona?"

"Yes, of course! I wanted to say good night."

"Are you sure?" Marlo stared at her friend, who nodded, "Okay - I'll see you back in New York."

Fiona watched Marlo's image disappear and slid the phone onto her bedside table. She wished her feelings away. Marlo's never going to stop playing the field. People don't change... She didn't even notice I was naked!

"Now it's going to be complicated." Fiona squeezed her eyes shut, "I hate it when things get complicated."

That night, Fiona vowed - if RJ could keep it simple, she could as well.

Chapter Two: An Unexpected Piece of News (Present Day, San Francisco)

Fiona awoke to the gentle clinking of a breakfast tray being set on the table in the adjoining room. Not for the first time, Fiona congratulated herself in choosing to take up residence at the Brackenridge in San Francisco. Living in a hotel represented a multitude of conveniences, of which breakfast room service was one.

"Good morning, ma'am," Paula said quietly. Paula has been the designated attendant for Fiona since she moved into the penthouse suite a year ago after Frederick Edevane died unexpectedly in his sleep. The family was still reeling from his loss, and the house on Eldridge Street has been standing empty since his passing. None of the family wanted to move in, his presence was still too strongly felt, but none of them could stomach selling it either. As the newly minted CEO, Fiona took the most drastic step of moving across the country to the West Coast; she justified it by citing the growing base of business the Edevane Group had with Silicon Valley.

"'Morning," Fiona replied sleepily. She padded off to the bathroom, and returned soon after, "How's the morning unfolding?"

"Very well, ma'am," Paula had efficiently laid out two settings of breakfast, "Dr. Wright is waiting outside."

"She insists on the formality..." Fiona blew a raspberry at her bedroom door, "... and that is what I think of it!!"

Paula chuckled, "Shall I ask her to come in?"

Fiona's eyes flashed wickedly as she said in a voice that carried, "No, I think we should make her wait."

"I heard that!" came a muffled voice from beyond the door.

Paula's eyes ping-ponged between Edevane Group's CEO and the hotel room door. Apart from Fiona's mother, Marlo Wright was the only other person with unfettered access to the CEO. It didn't take long for Paula to understand why the rumor mill insisted on perpetuating the idea that Fiona and Marlo were having a closeted affair. The two of them had a connection, that's for sure, but it was perplexing why neither seemed to want to take it beyond friendship.

Fiona had kept her vow from five years ago. Suitors made their advances, but she always rebuffed them. Fiona's revelation about her feelings about Marlo stayed safely hidden from view: it was less complicated that way... not least because Marlo evidenced no intention of doing anything but bedding as many women as she could. Fiona settled on nurturing her friendship with Marlo; there were no ambiguities there: They were each other's must trusted confidante, and were increasingly sharing the responsibilities of Edevane's affairs. Again, no one found it necessary to comment, it seemed completely natural and inevitable.

There was, however, one thing that had changed since Fiona took over CEO duties a year ago: Marlo began insisting on formalizing their interactions at every turn, seeking appointments with Fiona when none was necessary, taking extraordinary lengths to show deference to Fiona in public. She did it mostly to annoy Fiona. It mostly worked.

This particular morning, Fiona chose not to respond to Marlo's protestation. She sat down at the table and began to eat her breakfast, assiduously ignoring the other place-setting that Paula had laid out.

Fiona took her first sip of coffee, pretending to not notice as the door swung open and a tall woman with a shock of platinum blonde hair stepped into the room. Paula pulled out the chair and Marlo slid her tall frame into it.

"Will there be anything else?" Paula asked the two women.

"No, thank you Paula," Fiona smiled at her.

"Very good, ma'am," Paula placed a pile of newspapers on the table and headed out of the room. She smiled to herself as she closed the door, overhearing Marlo's quiet, "You're such an asshole!" to Fiona.

Fiona blew another raspberry at her friend, "Nothing more than you deserved, sweetie."

Marlo rolled her eyes, "There're protocols, you know?"

"Stop it. I'm not some spoiled rich princess that gets off on bowing and scraping."

"No, no," Marlo's eyes twinkled wickedly, "You're not Princess Fiona, that's for sure... it's Queen Fiona now... All hail the Queen!"

Marlo bowed lavishly, only to be met with a scornful snap of Fiona's napkin across her shoulder.

"Cut that out, Marlo," Fiona said in a firmer voice, "I can tell you without reservation that you can shove your made-up protocols right up your butt." Fiona threw a bit of toast at Marlo for emphasis.

Marlo flinched as it hit her in the face, "People will think I'm taking liberties... that I'm assuming too much."

Fiona sat up straighter and arched an eyebrow, "And what liberties would that be, Marlo? That we're having some sordid affair?" Fiona waved her hand scornfully, "People think that already! Why give them the satisfaction of us changing our behavior?"

Marlo's brain scrambled for a second. Getting hot and heavy with Fiona was exactly the thing that she didn't need freshly seared into her brain that morning.