Chapter 7
Sharing. This was a new concept for Cordelia. But if it meant she could have even a scrap of Misty Day's affection, she was determined to learn.
Their discussion in the greenhouse had ended in Misty placing a soft kiss to her cheek and the two going their separate ways for the day. The promise of spending some time together that night made Delia giddy like a schoolgirl. And anxious. Always, always anxious.
The other witches of Miss Robichaux's had plans to go out, and Misty, in an effort to keep up appearances, was expressly uninvited. Madison most vocally refused to be seen out in public with "her hillbilly ragdoll ass," and this suited the Cajun just fine. There would be no competition for her attention this evening.
*****
The telekinetic looked herself up and down in the mirror, winking at her own reflection. Satisfied that she looked like someone who'd materialized off the cover of Vogue, she slinked off to her secret lover's bedroom.
She tapped lightly on the door with her knuckle, and when Misty opened it, the starlet pushed them back into the room, wrapping her arms around the woman's neck.
"Sweet Lord, don't you look delicious," the curly blonde murmured, eyeing the skin-tight sheath dress and dangerous high heels.
"Go ahead. Have a taste."
Not giving her time to react, Madison captured Cupid's bow lips in a ridiculously heated kiss that left her lover panting. She pulled away with a smirk, wiping a smudge of her lipstick from the corner of Misty's mouth.
"I'm sorry you aren't coming," she said too sweetly. "But look on the bright side; you'll be home alone with Foxxy. Maybe you'll finally butch up enough to get in her pants."
Misty pinched her ass and growled.
"Shut up and get the fuck out."
The girl turned on her heel, blew a kiss over her shoulder, and walked out the door.
*****
Cordelia heard a soft knock on her office door and looked up from her paperwork.
"Come in."
The feral witch entered the room, flashing a deep-dimpled grin.
"Hi Miss Cordelia."
The headmistress smiled back.
"Are you ever going to drop the 'Miss'? I mean, especially given the circumstances."
"Well sure, I just didn't mean to be disrespectin' ya in case you changed your mind," she replied softly.
"Not at all."
"Good. In that case, I wanted to let ya know the girls have left for the evenin'."
She paused briefly, cocking her head to the side.
"Also, ya look real cute in them glasses."
At this, the woman blushed bright red, and Misty gave a low chuckle, before sauntering casually over to her desk and sitting on it.
"Whatcha workin' on?"
Delia's mind blanked. Hopelessly. She could think of only one thing, and that was how many times had she vividly fantasized about taking the girl on this very piece of furniture.
"Cordelia?"
The woman suddenly snapped out of her stupor, shifting her gaze to Misty's face.
"Hmm?"
"You're awful distracted, Miss," she said, standing up and offering her hand. "Let's get you outta this office and away from them damn papers."
"Ok," she whispered, allowing Misty to help her to her feet. She let out a surprised squeal when she found herself abruptly pulled into a tight embrace. The Cajun deeply inhaled her neck and purred appreciatively.
"I been thinkin' 'bout ya all day, Cordelia," she rasped quietly. "The way you smell. How you feel in my arms. You been thinkin' 'bout me too?"
The headmistress, by now breathing heavily, let out a weighty sigh.
"God, yes. Ever since you arrived at this house, you're all I can ever think about."
Misty ran the tip of her nose up the woman's elegant neck to her ear, delighting in the ragged gasp this produced.
"Well, sugar, we got us a couch, a fireplace, and a hell of a wine cellar. Shall we?"
Delia nodded silently. Staring down at their interlaced fingers, she followed the girl out of her office.
*****
Misty regarded Cordelia over the rim of her glass. The alchemist's beauty was otherworldly. Her skin was finest porcelain, her hair flaxen silk. And those eyes, huge and coffee-black, reflected the dancing flames that were the sole source of illumination in the ancestor room. They held other things, too. Secrets and fears, needs and wants, so much more than the softly lisped words she had just spoken from those impossibly full lips.
But their talk had turned to comfortable silence, and the Cajun let those thoughts be. Instead, she set down her pinot noir and scooted closer to the object of her desire until she was practically in her lap.
"Ya know, Delia, I been thinkin' .." she began, intently seeking dark eyes.
The woman gazed dreamily back at her, and she continued in a low, heavily accented murmur.
"There's somethin' between us, somethin' that shoulda been taken care of long ago. I can't let this stand."
Cordelia frowned, suddenly unsure.
Had she done something wrong?
Misty kept going.
"Now, I aim to set things right. Assumin' ya got no objections, Miss, I do believe I'm going to kiss you."
Cordelia's breath hitched and suddenly, her entire body was aquiver with nerves.
jesus, delia, get a grip.
With Herculean effort, she stopped herself short of hyperventilating, and instead managed to form a smile. She gave a single nod as her gaze dropped to the girl's mouth.
The wild witch traced her thumb over a plush bottom lip, and the woman's eyes fluttered shut at her touch, but as Misty leaned in, a soft hand on her chest gave her pause. Her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as she searched her lover's face.
"We'll go slow, right?" Delia whispered.
"Of course, babydoll," she drawled softly. " As slow as ya need."
With that, Cordelia withdrew her hand from Misty's chest, instead burying it in her golden curls, and the girl closed the distance between them.
wow.
The kiss was gentle, deliberate, and to the headmistress, it held several unfamiliar qualities, things she'd never known with Hank.
Insistence. Electricity. Longing. The promise of better things to come. She'd never been kissed this way before.
Misty was the first to pull back, resting her forehead against Delia's, and speaking in breathy tones.
"There. That's better."
"Misty?"
"Yeah, honey."
"Kiss me again."
The feral blonde, drunk on the taste of the other witch's mouth, couldn't possibly have denied her.