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Authors: Julia P. Lynde

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BOOK: Bidding War
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"Thank you," she said.

"For what?"

"Please don't be coy." She glanced down at my hand again. "I am a cautious driver. Will the invitation to touch you remain open once we are in public?"

"Yes," I told her.

She touched me briefly twice more during the drive, but by and large she kept her focus on driving. We talked about cooking, always a safe subject.
We compared notes. She liked to do large entertaining, such as family holidays and dinner parties. "I live alone, so for myself I tend to keep things simple."

"I know what you mean. I do the same thing, but I enjoy cooking for up to four. Sam, Suzanne and Bonnie come over often, and in the past I've cooked for my boyfriends." I paused. "They seem to take it for granted."

"Don't you hate that?" she said. "You spend days planning a meal, looking up extra special recipes, trying to find just the right ingredients, and worrying that someone is going to have exactly the foods he or she likes, and then they act like it was easy."

"Bonnie is actually my most appreciative guest," I said. "I can never tell if she is serious, but there are days she acts like she's having orgasms from something I've made. Even if it's an act, I appreciate it."

We chatted back and forth about that before I asked her, "How did you know to invite me to a cooking class? Did you ask Sam?"

"No. It's a truffles class. You would have to hate chocolate to hate the class."

I laughed. "Fair enough. Moira, this is absolutely perfect. Thank you."

She caressed my arm briefly again.

We arrived at Calhoun Square and parked in the ramp. Moira turned the car off and turned to face me, her hand reaching out to rest on my arm. "Pamela?" She paused. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Are you wondering how much flirting I can tolerate?"

"Yes."

"Keep it tasteful and I will tell you if it's too much." I paused. "I'll flirt back, but Moira. It's just flirting. I am here with you to have a nice time." I paused. "Will you tell me if I am disappointing you?"

"With what you just said, I won't be disappointed, Pamela." She looked down at her hand caressing my arm. "This is really all right?"

"Yes. It's nice. I'll be disappointed if you stop."

Her smile grew and she nodded.

We climbed out of the car together and met at the back. She took my arm, and we held hands as we walked through the parking lot. She released me at the doors to the mall so that she could hold doors for me, then took my hand again once inside the mall.

"Dinner is here?"

"I hope you like
French cooking."

"I do. I like most foods."

There was a table waiting for us at a nice French restaurant. The restaurant was upscale, with cloth tablecloths and linens. Moira held my chair for me. She sat to my left.

As soon as we were both seated, she had her hand on my arm, her fingers still, just barely touching me. We smiled briefly.

"How do you feel about sharing?" she asked me.

"It depends," I said. "On whether I like whatever you order."

She smiled. We agreed on two dishes, and we each ordered tea.

Moira was an excellent conversationalist, deftly steering our conversation between topics. She asked me about my job, complemented me on my appearance, and thanked me again for volunteering myself for the auction.

"Will you do it again?" she asked.

I laughed. "I haven't finished my involvement for this time, and you're asking about next year." I paused. "Somehow I don't think I'd be quite the novelty next year."

She smiled. "You might not achieve quite the success you did this year, but you would still do well." She stroked my arm while staring into my eyes. It was very pleasant, and I closed my own eyes, enjoying the attention.

"You like this?" she asked, continuing to stroke my arm.

I nodded my head slightly.

We sat quietly, my eyes closed, while Moira lightly stroked my arm. I wasn't used to this, not at all. She turned my hand over and extended her touch into the palm of my hand, running the ball of two fingers up and down my arm and into my hand.

Finally I opened my eyes and looked at her. She was staring at me intently. I looked between her eyes and her hand. She was making me tingly. I squirmed a little.

"Too much?" She asked. "Do I need to stop?"

"No." I paused. "No one has ever done that to me before."

"Seriously?"

"Will you sit on my other side later?" I asked with a grin.

She laughed lightly. "Yes."

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the touching. "Am I being greedy?"

"No. I would do this all night if you let me."

I squirmed again and opened my eyes. "I'm sure the arm would become over stimulated."

"I will just have to vary my touches then."

We sat quietly after that. Our food arrived, and I was deeply disappointed when Moira stopped touching me to serve us. She caught my sigh.

"Was that a request for more later?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure you're straight?" she asked.

I smiled. "Is that a question on the form?"

"What form?"

"The one you send in to claim your toaster oven."

She laughed loudly. "Are you telling me I'm going to win a toaster oven?"

"No, but if everything you do feels as nice as that did, maybe you'll win a toaster. Or at least some toast."

She laughed again.

I was disappointed she couldn't eat left-handed so she could continue to caress me. She asked me more about my job. I answered somewhat perfunctorily.

"Bad topic?"

"Not really. I'm good at my job, but most days it feels like I'm little more than a clerk. It's a good job, and it's important. I just feel like I landed in the wrong spot."

"Maybe a fresh opportunity will roll your way."

"Maybe." Then I asked her what she liked most about her job, and while she was talking, I stole a piece of chicken from her plate.

"Every piece of food you steal from my plate is one kiss I get later," she told me, smiling.

I made a point of thinking about it. She watched me. "Going to steal another one?"

"I'm wondering how many truffles I'm going to try to steal later," I admitted.

"Truffles are two kisses each. With tongue."

I laughed and stole another piece of chicken from her.

Her eyes grew wide at that. "Are you really going to pay for those later?"

"If you don't get cocky, I might." I paused, smiled, then said, "And if my arms get more of that lovely attention."

After that I got her to tell work stories about some of her clients. I asked her what her favorite house was.

"When I first became an agent, I helped this young couple buy a small house in South Minneapolis," she said. "I really had to go to bat to get them into the house, including
a cut in my commission to help with the price. Three years ago, Debbie won the dot com lottery when the company she was working for was sold. Two years ago, they came to me and asked me to help them find a house on Lake Minnetonka. It took us nine months, but they ended up buying an absolutely fabulous home." She described the house.

"It sounds amazing."

"Debbie's mother joined us for some of the house viewings we did. After the third day out with us, right in front of me, she told Debbie flat out she was making a big mistake using me as an agent."

"Oh wow, how rude!"

"She had one point. I didn't know the Lake Minnetonka market as well as another agent might, but we sell hours all over town all the time."

"What happened?"

"Also in front of me, Debbie pointed out everything I had done the first time around. Then she clearly stated that as far as she was concerned, she would never buy or sell a home in Minnesota without me."

"Wow! Customer satisfaction."

She nodded. "I almost started crying. Debbie walked over, gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek. It took another six months, but we found the perfect house. Debbie invited me to the housewarming. Her mother was there and cornered me."

"Oh no."

"No, it was okay. She asked me how long the house had been on the market. I told her I had shown it to Debbie and Ryan three hours after the initial paperwork had been signed, and it wasn't even in the system when we stepped inside. Dear Old Mom nodded and apologized to me."

At that point, Moira smiled then stole a piece of chicken back off my plate. I laughed. "What do I get for that?"

"More stroking."

"Have more chicken." I slid my plate slightly closer to her.

She laughed and took one more small piece.

By then we were both done eating, but we had time before our class. We sat at the table and drank our tea. Moira began casually stroking my arm again, and I moved slightly closer to her, closing my eyes.

"I am having a lovely time," she said a few minutes later.

"So am I," I admitted. "Thank you."

"Would you like to wander through the store before our class?"

I opened my eyes and looked at her. "Getting bored touching me?"

She smiled. "I want to move to the other arm."

"Let's go!"

She led the way out of the restaurant. As soon as we were back in the mall, she took my right hand in her left and began slowly stroking my arm with her right as we walked slowly through the mall.

I looked down at my arm and over at her.

"This is still all right?" she asked quietly.

"Yes. I'm feeling selfish though."

She smiled. "You're giving me a huge ego trip. Please just enjoy this."

Kitchen Window was a short walk through the mall. We presented ourselves at the front desk. "The class room will be open in about twenty minutes," the woman said. "But we have a shopping list if you were thinking about buying what you might need to make truffles at home."

She held out a sheet of paper. Moira took it from her, and we looked at it together.

I had offered to cook for Gwendolyn, but for some reason, making truffles for her seemed like it would be cheating on Moira. I certainly wasn't going to make truffles for myself, or make them all that often regardless.

I looked at Moira, wondering what she was thinking.

"If we make them at home for other people, it's going to feel weird," she said.

"Yeah."

I watched her think about it. "Until I've had my third date from you, I don't want you making truffles for anyone other than me," she said. "And I want a three-month moratorium afterwards before you make them for some guy."

I laughed. "How about my father?"

She smiled. "Oh, all right. You can make them for your father."

We wandered through the store, finding the items in the list. Moira took to standing behind me while we looked at something together, her arms wrapped around me slightly with her hands on my arms. I could feel her breath on my neck. At one point I turned around, and our lips were inches apart.

"Not yet," I told her quietly. "But I am enjoying being here with you."

She nodded.

Neither of us needed very many of the items on the list. I was becoming increasingly distracted by Moira's warmth behind me. Before we were done shopping, I waited until she was standing behind me again and turned my head to look at her.

"I don't want you to back off," I said. "This is nice. But sort of hold it at this point. Is that all right?"

She nodded. "More than all right."

She did back off a little, which disappointed me, but she stayed close and I could feel her warmth. She continued to touch me at every opportunity. My arms were starting to become over stimulated from the attention, and I didn't know what to offer instead.

She did. She shifted behind me while we were looking at candy thermometers. I had one, but Moira didn't. She shifted slightly to my right and then I felt her hand move from my arm to my shoulder, then slide down my back and rest on my hip. She gave me momentary shivers, but when she did it again, it felt nice. I leaned against her slightly in encouragement, just for a moment.

We added one of the candy thermometers to our basket and moved to the registers, separating my purchases from hers. She offered to pay for mine, but I refused. We each paid and had enough time to drop our bags off at her car. We held hands during the walk.

The cooking school is directly above the store. We arrived just as the instructor and two assistants were opening the doors. I had attended a couple of classes with this instructor before and had really liked her. She knew Moira on sight. Moira introduced me.

"You look familiar," she said.

"I took your bread class two years ago," I told her. "And a sushi class last year. I think you taught that."

She nodded.

BOOK: Bidding War
3.79Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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