Chapter 15
Rio didn’t spend over an hour in the shower like she tended to do after every mission. This might’ve been the quickest shower she’d ever had in her thirty-two years of life. As always, she was breaking every rule she’d ever lived by for Agatha.
The other woman had suggested they debrief in the living room and Rio had wanted nothing more. She couldn’t tell if it was all the adrenaline left over from the mission, or if New York was just humid tonight, but Rio couldn’t bring herself to put on proper pyjamas. Instead, she opted for her underwear; a black bra and lace-trimmed hipster pants. She threw on an overside white button-up blouse over the top.
She felt like she should be lounging around somewhere in Greece.
She wished she was in Greece.
Rio surprised herself when she realised, she didn’t feel weird about what she was wearing. She felt she and Agatha were at a comfortable enough place for her to do this.
When she stepped out of their elevator and into the living room, Agatha was already there. It appeared Rio wasn’t the only one who felt hot. Agatha had her long hair tied up in a ponytail, the hairs that weren’t quite long enough falling around her face to frame it. She too was in a bra with white cotton boxer shorts on.
As well as glasses.
Rio’s mouth dried out. “You…wear glasses?”
Agatha looked up from her phone. She smiled. “You like them?”
Yes! Fuck yes!
She shrugged. “They suit you I guess.”
Agatha laughed.
Rio sat down on the opposite side of the couch. She had to blink a few times for her eyes to adjust to the dimmer lighting of the living room. The big light was off, the room instead lit by various hues of orange and red from smaller lamps dotted around the space. She took in the plants she had added, the large Kenita Palm, the Snake Plant, the Peace Lily, the Devil’s Ivy.
Rio hadn’t noticed up until now, but their house was really starting to feel like theirs. For Rio’s plants, Agatha had put up photos of Nicky, a rug she knew cost more than her old apartment, blankets that had a permanent home in the living room, and a fucking Dyson air purifier. Between that and her plants, Rio swore they had the cleanest air in Manhattan.
Said air was also filled with her wife’s scent, and as always, Rio craved it. The urge to slide across the couch and invade Agatha’s space was undeniable, but she resisted, snuggling deeper into the leather to trap herself.
She needed a fucking medal for the strength she was displaying.
“So, what happened?”
Agatha replied immediately. There had been no warning, no announcement of The Sisters of Liberty’s presence. Imogen Morgan had been alive and well, making her audience laugh…and then she was dead. Shot in the head by a gunman somewhere in the vicinity. Agatha didn’t know what to do, people were shooting but they were all wearing black suits, she was wearing a black suit. She had no clue if they were FBI agents or terrorists. She chose not to shoot, killing another agent was a pile of paperwork she didn’t want to do.
Rio told her she made the right decision. She relayed her side of the story before she told her about Alice, about seeing her former boss.
“I fucking knew it!” Agatha shrieked triumphantly. “Jen said they’d met a work, Jen works for the FBI, Jen would never marry another agent she told me she’d rather drop dead,” she let out a breathless laugh.
Rio smiled at her wife’s smile. Who knew the simplest things in life could bring such joy?
“I wonder if they made it out okay,” Rio said, pulling out her phone to text her former best friend now friend again.
“I hope so,” Agatha replied. “And what about seeing your old boss? What was her name?”
“Lila Calderu.”
“Your former boss was Agent C? Oh, I love her! She…” Agatha trailed off. “I mean, what a bitch. How dare she remove you from main operations.”
Rio shook her head playfully. “Nice save.”
Agatha shrugged as if to say it was nothing.
“It was fine. I hated her for a really long time when I got dropped and when I first started the programme.”
“And now?” Agatha prompted.
“Now the programme’s not so bad.”
“Oh, yeah?” Agatha’s voice was low, silky. “How come?”
“Decorating this house is what really did it for me.”
Agatha stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Yeah, okay.”
Rio’s phone buzzed. She thought nothing of it, probably Alice shooting back her reply until Agatha’s phone buzzed too.
“Oh, not again,” Agatha grumbled. “Surely we can’t have two missions in one night.”
It wasn’t another mission.
Hihi,
Three casualties, one of them Imogen Morgan.
Mission: FAILED.
“Is it just me or is Hihi extremely passive-aggressive?” Agatha said.
Rio nodded her agreement.
The two women sat and stared at their phones. They’d never failed a mission before. There had been some close calls, but never an actual fail. What did that mean?
Another message popped up a moment later.
That is strike one out of three.
Don’t let it get to three.
“Yep, very passive-aggressive,” Agatha mumbled, setting her phone down.
Rio didn’t want to know what would happen if you got to strike three, actually, it didn’t matter. She was never going to find out. They wouldn’t be failing another mission again. So, this is where the most brilliant idea she’d had all evening popped into her head:
“Wanna get fucked up?”
The defeated look on Agatha’s face vanished immediately.
***
The room was spinning, three bottles of wine and the fruit platter Rio had made earlier were on the table and her wife was laughing at something funny she must’ve said but forgotten what it was.
Rio stumbled towards the speaker.
“Nosotras necesitamos musica Española,” Rio said. We need Spanish music.
“¿Qué vas a jugar?”
Rio whirled around. “¿Tú hablas Español?” You speak Spanish?
“Un poco.” A little.
Truth was, as soon as Agatha had found out Rio spoke Spanish on their first mission she’d started to relearn it. Her longest Nanny had spoken it, and she learnt it to communicate with her. It felt like their own secret language, no one in the Harkness-O’Connor household spoke it. She’d often get scolded by her mother for not speaking English, but she didn’t care.
She also took it during high school, it was one of her highest-scoring subjects, but Agatha couldn’t tell if that was because she was genuinely good at it or if it was because she sleeping with her Spanish teacher.
“Why are you making me teach Nicky if you can speak Spanish?” Rio laughed. The sound came out slow and breathy like it does when someone is under the influence.
“Why would I pass up an opportunity for him to learn from a fluent Spanish-speaking Puerto Rican?”
Rio narrowed her eyes, an action that was taking her more effort than it would on a normal day. “I never told you that.”
“I’m an FBI agent, remember sweetheart?”
Rio’s cheeks flushed red immediately and she started shifting at her blouse.
“Música!” She said, turning to the speaker.
Agatha smiled.
X by Nicky Jam & J Balvin started blasting through the speakers and Rio threw her head back immediately.
“I fucking love this song!”
She started swaying her hips, her eyes closed as she absentmindedly tipped alcohol down her throat.
Agatha watched her from the couch. The orange light emitting from the lamp behind her shone through the messy pieces of her that were sticking up from where Rio had been rubbing her head against the leather from laughing so hard.
She looked otherworldly. Like she had been sent from the heavens.
Rio brought the hand free of her wine glass into the air before she dropped it back down to run the length of her body, starting from her head to the curve of her neck, to her chest. Agatha had never been more jealous in her life; she wanted to do that.
She resisted the urge, instead chugging down the wine in her glass and pouring herself another.
When she looked at Rio again, her eyes were fluttering open.
“No, get up.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me,” Rio giggled. “We’re dancing.”
Agatha shook her head in protest. She couldn’t dance with her fake wife half-naked. She’d do something stupid.
“It’s cute you think you have a choice,” Rio said, setting her wine glass on the table to approach Agatha on the couch. “I know you like to dance, Harkness. I saw those photos of you leaving that club, saw you leaving multiple clubs actually.”
“I’m gonna have to cut off your access to the internet if you keep googling me.”
Rio laughed, her hands finding Agatha’s and tugging her to her feet. She led her towards the open space in their living room.
Before Agatha had a chance to collect her thoughts, Rio had slung her arms around her neck. She started swaying again as the next song, Downtown by Anitta & J Balvin started playing.
Rio’s brown remained locked on Agatha’s blue, and she had to force herself to remember to breathe. Agatha had never been more nervous in her life. Had another woman ever made her feel like this? No. They hadn’t.
“I know you have no problem coming up with excuses to touch me, so what are you waiting for?” Rio raised an eyebrow.
“Who are you and what have you done with Rio Vidal?” Agatha teased.
Rio laughed, her head falling to the crook of Agatha’s neck. She felt Rio’s warm forehead against her skin and the soft poke of her nose before she lifted herself up again.
Agatha wished she hadn’t.
She finally moved her hands to Rio’s hips on top of her blouse. She wanted to apologise for how clammy her hands probably were. Agatha didn’t know if it was because of the alcohol or the temperature or because she was so fucking nervous why she was so sweaty.
Rio huffed, moving Agatha’s hands from on top of her shirt to her bare skin. The action caused one of the shoulders of her blouse to slip down revealing her uncovered right shoulder.
Agatha felt pleasantly overstimulated. She didn’t know what to process first, the heat coming off of Rio’s body, the expanse of more skin, how bold Rio was being.
Her wife started swaying her hips again, and Agatha’s hands followed the movement. Rio’s eyes flicked back up to hers. She smiled.
“There you go. Now, let’s do something about this.”
Before Agatha could ask what she meant, Rio was reaching towards the back of her head. She felt Rio’s hands in her hair, felt a slight tug as her ponytail fell and her hair dropped past her shoulders. Rio slid the now useless hair tie onto her wrist before she raked her hands through Agatha’s hair, arranging it however she liked.
“Hermosa,” Rio whispered. Beautiful.
The song changed again. Peligrosa by FloyyMenor.
A slow smile spread across Rio’s lips as she began to recognise the song. When the beat dropped, she started nodding her head.
Agatha smiled at her like an idiot.
Rio stepped back, grabbing her hand to spin her. Agatha squealed as she almost tripped before Rio caught her with a laugh.
“You’re fine!”
“Oh, yeah?” Agatha tossed her wife over her shoulder and began to spin.
It was Rio’s turn to squeal.
“I didn’t spin you this fast!” She scolded through a laugh.
Agatha put her down.
“If I throw up, I’m blaming you.”
“Oh, so just like last time then?”
They hadn’t spoken about the night Rio got drunk with their mission target during the ski mission.
Rio’s mouth snapped shut. She stared at Agatha a moment before she said, “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve apologised sooner.”
Agatha threw back her head and laughed. “I was only joking but I accept your apology. I’m sorry for almost blowing your head off.”
Rio smiled. “I was just grasping at strings; I knew you wouldn’t have taken the shot if you knew you couldn’t do it.”
Agatha raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure?”
“Yes!” Rio shoved her playfully in the shoulder before drawing her back into her.
Agatha’s hands found Rio’s waist once more and Rio looped her arms around the back of her neck. They started swaying again before Rio said:
“You still need to try the cherries.”
She breezed past Agatha towards the fruit platter on the table. Agatha tried not to acknowledge how her body shivered due to the lack of contact.
Rio came towards her at the same time the song changed: Gata only by FloyyMenor & Cris Mj.
She held her hand out expecting Rio to give it to her. The other woman shook her head and Agatha furrowed her eyebrows. Rio nodded her head and Agatha understood.
She tilted her head up, felt Rio’s hand press flat against her throat to steady her as she lowered the cherry into her mouth. Agatha bit the bottom of it and a burst of sweet cherry juice covered her tongue.
Her eyes widened as she locked eyes with Rio again. “Holy shit, these are good!”
“Told you,” Rio replied as she popped Agatha’s half-eaten cherry into her mouth.
She didn’t break eye contact as she sucked the cherry off the stem.
Agatha swallowed.
This fucking woman.
She pulled the stem from her mouth and then took out the pit.
Rio smirked before she said, “Look who’s drooling now.”
It was only then Agatha felt the faint trail of cherry juice sliding down her chin. She wiped it away hastily as Rio returned to the table.
They shared more fruit on the couch. Strawberries, grapes, more cherries. Never serving themselves, always taking the food from the other woman’s fingers.
Agatha felt dizzy. It was the alcohol mixed with the insanely good fruit, the music, and her uncharacteristically (for Rio) bold wife.
Ay Vamos by J Balvin was playing the next time Rio dragged Agatha to her feet.
They were in the same position as always except this time, Agatha was guiding Rio’s hips as she swayed not following the other woman’s lead.
“Are you always this stiff?” Rio said after a while.
“What?” Agatha blinked. She’d been in a trance, watching her wife’s hips sway back and forth.
“You barely move your hips.”
“Erm…?”
“Here, let me.”
Truth was, Agatha was not stiff, Rio was right, she loved dancing. But she’d been so caught up in everything that was Rio Vidal she hadn’t had time to pay attention to what her own body was doing.
Rio dropped to a crouching position and Agatha’s breath hitched at the sight of her wife looking up at her through her eyelashes. Rio put her hands on her hips and waited for the chorus again before she started swaying her, moving her left hip first, then her right and repeat to the beat of the music.
“There you go,” Rio praised.
Agatha’s hair kept falling past her shoulders and she kept having to swipe it behind her ear. She couldn’t miss a second of this, of the way Rio looked at her as she gripped her waist.
Rio slid her fingers up further so more of her hand was pressed against Agatha’s bare skin.
Was their A.C. working? It didn’t fucking feel like it. Agatha was sure beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. All she wanted to do was kiss her wife, god, do more than kiss her. Her body felt like it had been set ablaze. The mess of feelings between her legs twisted so tightly it almost hurt.
The room began to spin the more Rio swayed her. She was not surviving this woman. Agatha was sure she was going to die from lack of air.
She was okay with that.
“You, okay?” Rio whispered.
No! I’m going to fucking explode if I don’t put my lips on yours.
“Yes,” Agatha got out.
Rio stood slowly. She took in Agatha’s expression and before Agatha could think she was sliding her hand around Rio’s waist.
DO NOT KISS HER! IT HAS TO BE PERFECT! YOU ARE DRUNK!
She heard Rio whisper something like, ‘Fuck it,’ before she felt her wife’s lips on hers.
Agatha froze. She was sweating like a pig, she had her glasses on, she was fucking drunk. This was not perfect, nowhere near…
And yet she hadn’t pulled away.
She sighed, closing her eyes and sinking into the feeling of soft lips on hers.
Rio tasted like the cherries they’d just eaten, and she smelt, Agatha let her shoulders drop, she smelt like Rio, like sandalwood, pine and vanilla.
Rio parted her lips more, letting Agatha gain more access to her. She took it in stride, allowing her tongue to slide into her wife’s mouth. Rio let out a soft moan that was closer to a whimper and Agatha’s entire body trembled.
It had now become one of her favourite sounds.
The other woman pulled away and Agatha thought she might cry. Was that it? She was prepared to pray to whatever deity necessary to keep this going.
A smirk painted Rio’s lips before she reached up and slowly freed Agatha from her glasses. She tossed them on the couch away from them.
“You’ve got enough money to buy new ones.”
“I hope they’re not broken those are Ray Ban’s,” Agatha teased before Rio’s lips were on hers again.
Rio didn’t hesitate, she parted Agatha’s lips with her tongue, pulling her closer by sticking her finger into the waistband of Agatha’s boxers and tugging. Agatha’s hands found purchase on Rio’s neck; she pushed her thumbs gently against the front of it to steady her.
The kiss intensified, getting slower, deeper.
Agatha’s entire body buzzed. She knew what it felt like to be high out of her mind. She’d been on many week benders taking any drug she could get her hands on. No high had ever felt like this. She was certain no high ever would.
Rio started backing her towards something. She assumed it was the couch until her back hit the living room wall. She gasped at the impact, momentarily severing their link before Rio stole the air from her lungs again.
She felt Rio’s hands snake up the side of her stomach before they slid higher and rested on her chest. Agatha waited patiently until…
Oh.
There it was. Pressure. Rio squeezed her left breast, and she saw stars.
“Fu…ck,” Agatha got out in between gasps.
She felt she wasn’t doing enough. She’d practically short-circuited ever since Rio’s lips touched hers. She wasn’t used to not being in the lead, to not dominating. She felt so useless and yet she couldn't get her body to do anything.
This was a new level of ecstasy, one so hot and blinding she couldn’t process a single thought she was having. All she knew was that she’d never felt this content.
Rio broke the kiss to turn her attention to Agatha’s neck. She couldn’t stop the way her body arched off the wall, couldn’t stop the way she wanted to melt in Rio’s arms.
Her wife licked the side of her chin where she knew cherry juice had dribbled down before she pulled her lips back on hers.
That seemed to snap Agatha back into her body. The urge to make Rio feel even half of what she was feeling pulsed through her and with one swift movement she flipped them.
Now Rio was the one who was pressed against the wall.
Agatha started pulling off Rio’s blouse, it was getting in the way. Once she was rid of it, it was her turn to break the kiss, dipping her head down to kiss along the edge of Rio’s breasts. She moaned against Rio’s skin. She was so warm and soft, and she smelt so fucking good.
She could hear soft whimpers from above, felt one of Rio’s hands slide around her exposed back until it moved past it and palmed her ass. Agatha short-circuited again, losing her construction as her knees buckled. Rio steadied her before dragging her upwards, so their lips connected again.
Agatha couldn’t help herself; she started inching one of Rio’s bra straps off her shoulder, letting it fall loose on her arm.
Why she was even bothering with the strap she didn’t know, she should just pull the whole thing off.
“SPEAKER ON 10%. SPEAKER NEEDS CHARGING!” Blasted through the house startling the two women away from one another.
Agatha wanted to throw the speaker out the window.
When her eyes fell on Rio, she was panting, lips swollen, pupils blown wide.
She was so fucking beautiful Agatha thought she might cry.
“We should…probably…stop right?” Rio got out through ragged breaths.
No! We shouldn’t fucking stop we should keep going until I’m on my knees.
“Right…we should stop,” Agatha panted.