Time Makes You Bolder

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"So..." Stevie said.

"So find another way to make up for it," said Christine patiently. "I'll pay your half of the hotel room fee but I'm not gonna do it for free, I have done that all tour, friends, bandmates whatever we are, you need to pay sometime."

"Seriously?" Stevie said. Christine didn't grace her with a response, and after a moment Stevie cast her eyes about the hotel room, searching for a solution and not knowing what to say. "So what am I supposed to do?" she asked, trailing her fingers across the surface of the kitchen table. "Clean? You wouldn't even want me to do that and I don't want to be a cleaning lady anymore, that is why I joined your band and am on tour!"

Still, Christine said nothing. Stevie's lips thinned and she looked away.

"Here's the thing," Christine said. When Stevie looked at her again, Christine hurriedly looked away, staring at the far wall. "You might take this the wrong way!."

Stevie made a strangled, sarcastic noise to indicate her agreement. Christine tactfully pretended not to hear it as she finally felt this might be here time to somehow make her feelings more serious. 

"And you're right," she said, "I can afford it. It's not about money, really, it's about -- well --" She stammered, painfully aware of Stevie's unimpressed stare. Christine's cheeks were burning, but in the end she stopped stammering entirely and squared her shoulders.

"It's about getting what I want for once," she said, a slight tremor in her voice. Stevie met her gaze, eyes narrow and dark.

"Like you know what you want," Stevie scoffed, but something about the way she was holding herself -- unnaturally still -- tipped Christine off that she wasn't as flippant as she seemed. As Christine watched, Stevie clenched her perfectly-manicured hands.

"I know what I want," said Christine levelly. She allowed herself a tiny smile. "I know what you want, too." She almost purred as she stepped around the kitchen table, still smiling at Stevie, who took a wary step back. When Stevie's back hit the doorframe, she tried to turn, but Christine grabbed her arm and forcefully turned her back again, so they were nose-to-nose "You want me," Christine said, and kissed her, swallowing Stevie's squeak of protest. Christine's left hand quested down the front of Stevie's shirt, just barely brushing her stomach, until it found the buttons on her pants. Stevie broke off the kiss at that, swatting at Christine's hand, and for a moment Christine hesitated. Then she shook the hesitation away and pinned Stevie's hands above her head.

Stevie stared at her, eyes wild. "You can't be serious right now," she said with a weak laugh but she watched Christine's expression and decided to see if she was, her boldness getting the better of her, as was her arousal as she couldn't deny she did want Christine "If you are, make me then!" Stevie dared, just wanting to see what would happen and how far the blonde was willing to go. 

Christine grinned and instantly unbuttoned Stevie's pants with one hand and shoved them down over her hips. Stevie flinched hard, but Christine's eyes were stuck on the fantastic view she now had of Stevie's lace panties, hugging the planes of her body just right.

"Christine?" Stevie said. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously," said Christine with more calmness than she felt. She brushed her thumb against the lace material; it felt luxurious, like satin with lace.

"But I don't -- I'm not --"

"How much did these cost you?" asked Christine incredulously. "You can't afford  a hotel room or your own drinks and drugs but you're buying designer underwear?"

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