Confrontation

By

Angelise

Copyright June 2001

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Dawn licked inside her lover's mouth, her tongue capturing the soft moan that was threatening to escape. Nibbling on Sharrie's bottom lip, the younger woman watched as the sweet flush of passion stole across her lover's face. Easing her hands underneath Sharrie's T-shirt, Dawn cupped the woman's breasts, enjoying their soft weight.

A whispered plea greeted the rubbing of thumbs over sensitive nipples. "Dawn . . . your mouth. Oh, angel love . . . please."

The redhead took a few more seconds to savor the heat of Sharrie's mouth before assenting to her lover's request. Sliding the soft cotton garment upwards, Dawn breathed a sigh of pleasure over the nearest wrinkled nub. Her tongue slipped out and barely teased the tip of the small peak. The surprising touch of her lover's hand slipping between her thighs encouraged Dawn to cease her teasing. The young woman opened her mouth over Sharrie's nipple and softly suckled the tender flesh.

"I swear you two are the lustiest Lizzies I've ever met."

Dawn slowly released her lover's nipple, her tongue bathing the swollen nub with a wet heat. Covering Sharrie's nakedness, she pressed her hand over the older woman's, wistfully sighing as it slid away from the cradle of her femininity.

Giving her lover a moment to recover, Dawn stood in front of Sharrie. Her blue eyes glittered with annoyance as she beheld the wickedly grinning teenager propped against the side of her desk.

"Most intelligent people, even those with half a brain, would know a closed door means do not enter."

James reached forward and straightened Dawn's open blouse, laughing as the redhead slapped away his hands. "Most intelligent people, especially those who want to engage in a little afternoon delight would lock the closed door."

Dawn looked back at her blushing lover. Sharrie offered up a chagrined smile. "Oops!"

The younger woman shook her head and finished buttoning her blouse. Grabbing Sharrie's hand, she sat down at her desk, pulling her apologetic lover onto her lap. Pressing a forgiving kiss to the older woman's cheek, Dawn returned her attention to the staring teenager.

Sarcastically she inquired, "And how may I help you?"

James tore his gaze away from the wet spots on Sharrie's T-shirt. "Uhh . . . Simon wants the list of his New York clients."

Dawn tapped the small box on her desk. "And he had to send you all the way to my office with that message. He couldn't use the intercom?"

James tugged on a lock of the redhead's hair. "Actually he did. But obviously you were preoccupied and did not hear him."

Dawn opened her mouth, ready to deny but Sharrie's quick intervening kiss halted her cutting words.

"Patience, sweetheart. Patience," the older woman whispered.

Dawn glared at the grinning teenager. "Patience, my ass."

Pushing her lover off her lap, the redhead went to the nearby file cabinet and located the required info. Slapping a sheath of papers into James' outstretched hand, the woman pointed towards her office door.

"Don't let it hit your sorry butt on the way out."

James patted Dawn's cheek. "Want me to lock the door for you?" Stepping quickly away, the high school student turned to go.

"What I want is for . . . wait a minute! Don't leave." Dawn grabbed James' arm. Looking over at her lover, she asked, "Sweety, do you mind getting me a Dr Pepper from the kitchen?"

Sharrie nodded her head, understanding her lover's unspoken request. As soon as the older woman closed the door shut, Dawn pulled a collection of pamphlets out of James' back pocket.

"What's the meaning of these?" She held up a brochure advertising the Army.

James took a seat and stretched out his long legs. He glanced out the window for several seconds before answering.

"Thinking of enlisting," the teen mumbled.

"And the reason being?" Dawn leaned back against the edge of her desk, her blue eyes scrutinizing the young man sprawled before her. A gaze of pure anger caused her to catch her breath.

"Cause it'll get me the hell away from that asshole at home."

"Does your father know about this?" Dawn stared at the teenager.

James' gaze turned lethal and the petite woman decided to take another route with her questioning. "Have you told Simon?"

The teen glanced back out the window. "He won't care."

"Excuse me? I believe you better rethink that answer." Dawn caught James' chin and made him turn his face toward her. "You know that answer is so bogus. Simon cares very much for you."

The football player refused to look at the redhead. "Simon likes fucking me. That's all."

WHAP!! The force of Dawn's slap snapped James' head back.

"You bastard!"

Grabbing a handful of the teen's jersey, the small woman jerked the youth forward. "I should beat the shit out of you. You know damn well that Simon has real feelings for you. Real, deep feelings."

Dawn brought her face within inches of James'. "And I ain't talking about fatherly NOR am I talking fuckbuddy."

A sudden thought crossed Dawn's mind. "Don't you even dare compare Simon to your father."

The woman released the tall teenager and moved away, afraid she would physically defend her words. Looking back at the silent young man, she continued.

"I can't speak for your father and his heart. But I do know Simon's. And his is filled with YOU."

Dawn moved back to stand in front of James. She lifted his chin with her finger and was surprised to find the blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"You, James Joseph Ellison, are a very big part of Simon's life. You're in his thoughts constantly. Hell . . . he plans his day around your schedule more than his own.

A discreet knock on the door preceded Sharrie's arrival. Dawn motioned her lover to come in. Seeking the reaffirming warmth of the older woman's body, Dawn wrapped her arms around Sharrie's waist. Nuzzling her lover's neck, the redhead took a fortifying breath before speaking again to the young man.

"James I'm not going to presume to tell you Simon loves you. That's for him to do. But when he wakes up with your name on his lips and when he goes to bed wishing you were in his arms . . . well . . . you figure it out."

Picking up the scattered pamphlets, Dawn held them out to James. "I know it's your life but please . . . please consider what your leaving would mean to Simon. If nobody else, at least think about how he'd feel about losing you."

James stood up and took the pamphlets from Dawn's hand. He hesitated for a few silent moments. Raising his head he stared at the young woman, discerning the truth of her words. With a slight nod, the teenager left.

Dawn collapsed against her lover, welcoming the kisses Sharrie offered. "That boy is going to be the death of me yet."

Green eyes turned quizzical. "What's he done now?"

Dawn frowned at the closed door. "He's thinking of enlisting . . . wants to get away from his father. And since my boss only keeps him around for fucking, he's under the impression that Simon wouldn't care one way or the other."

"Keeps him around for . . ." Sharrie sputtered. "Does that teenager have shit for brains? Simon is so in love with James. Let me at him! I'll kick some sense into that head of his. If not his head then his ass." The dark-haired woman threw her hands in the air, her voice increasing in volume.

"Just what the hell is James thinking? Keeps him around for fucking? That boy is totally screwed in the head. I'm beginning to think he's the blind one!"

Dawn's eyes sparkled with delight. Her lover was a sight to behold when her temper was tested. And that sight was enough to rekindled the redhead's hunger.

Slipping her hand under Sharrie's short skirt, Dawn discovered a damp forest of curls. Teasing one finger over the older woman's clit, she expertly distracted Sharrie's tirade.

A feminine gasp and a rush of liquid heat brought a smile to Dawn's face. Wickedly she whispered in her lover's ear, "Do you think our blind one remembered to lock the door?"

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James stood at the entrance to the studio, his gaze following Simon's every move. The rays of the setting sun filtered across the older man's face, illuminating his mysterious smile. A small bust was the object of the artist's attention, his long fingers smoothing out the clay.

The teenager took a closer look and realized surprisingly that the sculpture was of himself. It took only a few seconds for James to understand Simon's touch was more than just artistic molding and shaping. Each stroke of his fingers over the clay was a caress.

A caress of love . . . for him.

James spared a momentary glance for the pamphlets in his hand. Instead of seeing the words printed across the enlistment brochures, the teen's mind saw the adoring look on Simon's face each time he welcomed James into his arms. Without hesitation, the decision was made and the pamphlet's tossed into a nearby garbage can.

Quietly taking up a position behind the artist, James laid aside the papers Simon had sent him to fetch. He waited patiently for the artist to turn around and acknowledge him.

Simon's smile widened as he greeted his young lover's return. "James! Look . . ."

Tracing his fingers across the black man's mouth, the football player halted the flow of words. Leaning forward he allowed his tongue to follow the path his fingers had just taken. With his hands behind Simon's head, James pulled his lover close and bestowed a deep, emotionally laden kiss upon him.

"Simon? Can I stay the night with you?"

The end