words came to a stop.
Brodie placed a tea cup saucer filled with three Godiva truffles on the table. She took one truffle and nibbled at it with a knitted brow.
Through the open window came the song of a lone whip-poor-will.
Brodie said, “Do you think you can accept that your relatives in The Meeting in that area will never accept the life you have chosen?”
For the umpteenth time that day tears filled Laurel’s eyes. In a quiet voice laced with sadness she answered. “I already have.” She took another swallow of her half-full glass, as she lifted the goblet saluting Brodie. “I already have.”
Chapter 8
A t quarter to five the next morning, Puffin, Brodie’s fifteen-pound blond, neutered tomcat began purring like a Peterbilt engine getting ready to hit the road.
Laurel smelled the coffee from the coffee maker. Stumbling over Jackson’s furry body as he lay stretched across the threshold of the bedroom door, she wished she had some slippers made from his fur. Her feet were always freezing.
After the routine breakfast of oats mixed with dried cherries, Laurel dressed in her uniform—dark green cotton trousers, olive green cotton short-sleeved shirt, black belt, black shoes and black socks. Pinned on her shirt was the silver badge from Florida Park Service, Environmental Protection, and the silver name tag with her years of service. Dressed in this ensemble, she stood a little straighter. Green to the bone.
Stretching under the white down comforter, Brodie said, “You do look good!”
Laurel chuckled as she patted the comforter with the warm body under it. “You say that every time I’m in this confounded outfit.”
“There’s just something about a woman in uniform.” Brodie almost purred as she gave a huge yawn.
“What time do you have to be at school?”
“Somewhere close to nine will be okay.”
Shivering in the chill of the early morning, Laurel grabbed a green windbreaker out of the closet. Another part of her issued uniform. The jacket had a large bright multicolored park emblem on the front left side, the same emblem that was on both of her shirt sleeves.
Leaning down to kiss Brodie on the forehead, she said, “I’ll see you this evening.”
Brodie grabbed her arm tugging her onto the bed. “Must you go?” Her smile was brilliant.
“The gleam in your eyes looks like you just caught an exotic fish!”
“A fish in uniform!” Brodie held Laurel in a tight embrace.
A fake choking sound came from Laurel, “Let go. I’ll be late.”
Laurel felt her shirt yanked out of her pants and a warm hand followed the contours of her side. Sculpting the landscape as it arrived at the rise of her breast. She melted with desire as she yielded. “Maybe, there’s time for a little something.”
Brodie whispered in her ear. “I adore your body. This uniform only makes you more tantalizing as it hides what I know is there.” With deft fingers she had the shirt unbuttoned. She gave a low, appreciative growl as she pulled the black lace bra back popping the breast out.
Laurel moaned. “If you keep on with this, I will be late.”
Brodie sucked and nibbled on the eager nipple, teasing it with her tongue. Her lips whispered the words, “Shall I stop, Ranger Grey?”
Yielding to the embrace, Laurel placed both hands on either side of Brodie’s face lifting it so that their lips met.
Soft and warm, their mouths opened so that the tongues spoke a silent language from one woman to the other.
A tight cord snaked from Brodie’s mouth connecting her nipples down to her gut and between her legs. The invisible line tweaked, causing her to jerk. She pulled her mouth away from Laurel’s lips, arms braced on the bed. “Go, my love. Now. We’ll finish this later.”
Laurel gave a low laugh. “You torture me, my Queen. I’ll do your bidding and come to your chambers tonight.”
Leaning back on the headboard, Brodie gave a delighted chuckle. “Queen, am I? All right, slave. I
Brodie placed a tea cup saucer filled with three Godiva truffles on the table. She took one truffle and nibbled at it with a knitted brow.
Through the open window came the song of a lone whip-poor-will.
Brodie said, “Do you think you can accept that your relatives in The Meeting in that area will never accept the life you have chosen?”
For the umpteenth time that day tears filled Laurel’s eyes. In a quiet voice laced with sadness she answered. “I already have.” She took another swallow of her half-full glass, as she lifted the goblet saluting Brodie. “I already have.”
Chapter 8
A t quarter to five the next morning, Puffin, Brodie’s fifteen-pound blond, neutered tomcat began purring like a Peterbilt engine getting ready to hit the road.
Laurel smelled the coffee from the coffee maker. Stumbling over Jackson’s furry body as he lay stretched across the threshold of the bedroom door, she wished she had some slippers made from his fur. Her feet were always freezing.
After the routine breakfast of oats mixed with dried cherries, Laurel dressed in her uniform—dark green cotton trousers, olive green cotton short-sleeved shirt, black belt, black shoes and black socks. Pinned on her shirt was the silver badge from Florida Park Service, Environmental Protection, and the silver name tag with her years of service. Dressed in this ensemble, she stood a little straighter. Green to the bone.
Stretching under the white down comforter, Brodie said, “You do look good!”
Laurel chuckled as she patted the comforter with the warm body under it. “You say that every time I’m in this confounded outfit.”
“There’s just something about a woman in uniform.” Brodie almost purred as she gave a huge yawn.
“What time do you have to be at school?”
“Somewhere close to nine will be okay.”
Shivering in the chill of the early morning, Laurel grabbed a green windbreaker out of the closet. Another part of her issued uniform. The jacket had a large bright multicolored park emblem on the front left side, the same emblem that was on both of her shirt sleeves.
Leaning down to kiss Brodie on the forehead, she said, “I’ll see you this evening.”
Brodie grabbed her arm tugging her onto the bed. “Must you go?” Her smile was brilliant.
“The gleam in your eyes looks like you just caught an exotic fish!”
“A fish in uniform!” Brodie held Laurel in a tight embrace.
A fake choking sound came from Laurel, “Let go. I’ll be late.”
Laurel felt her shirt yanked out of her pants and a warm hand followed the contours of her side. Sculpting the landscape as it arrived at the rise of her breast. She melted with desire as she yielded. “Maybe, there’s time for a little something.”
Brodie whispered in her ear. “I adore your body. This uniform only makes you more tantalizing as it hides what I know is there.” With deft fingers she had the shirt unbuttoned. She gave a low, appreciative growl as she pulled the black lace bra back popping the breast out.
Laurel moaned. “If you keep on with this, I will be late.”
Brodie sucked and nibbled on the eager nipple, teasing it with her tongue. Her lips whispered the words, “Shall I stop, Ranger Grey?”
Yielding to the embrace, Laurel placed both hands on either side of Brodie’s face lifting it so that their lips met.
Soft and warm, their mouths opened so that the tongues spoke a silent language from one woman to the other.
A tight cord snaked from Brodie’s mouth connecting her nipples down to her gut and between her legs. The invisible line tweaked, causing her to jerk. She pulled her mouth away from Laurel’s lips, arms braced on the bed. “Go, my love. Now. We’ll finish this later.”
Laurel gave a low laugh. “You torture me, my Queen. I’ll do your bidding and come to your chambers tonight.”
Leaning back on the headboard, Brodie gave a delighted chuckle. “Queen, am I? All right, slave. I
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