a work of art

chapter 38: private tour

Leaving Claire alone at the hotel felt impossible.

"She really can't come?" I whispered to Billie in the bathroom. I was retouching my makeup at the mirror after the show, and she'd come in to pee.

She turned the water on to wash her hands and muffle her voice. "Baby, I kinda planned this with... just us in mind. It's a you and me thing."

I sighed. "I just feel bad. And weird. Like we're excluding her."

"That's literally what we're doing," Billie whispered. "This is our date..."

I nodded at my her reflection, but the discomfort was evident on my face. I hated the idea of Claire feeling left out.

Billie turned off the water and kissed me. "It's okay, baby, I talked to her earlier. It's all good. She understands. Just finish getting ready and we'll go, okay? It's late."

I went back to my appearance while she went out to hang a little longer with Claire. I was glad tonight didn't have any wardrobe stipulations. She'd asked me to dress up just a little, but pick what I wanted.

Obviously... I'd chosen pants this time.

I'd paired a taupe trouser with a tight, white, low necked tank. I finished the look with a short sleeved white dress shirt, left unbuttoned. I wore my dads slender chain, his watch, and no other jewelry. I threw my hair up in as sleek a bun as I could make it, and headed out to see my girls.

Claire looked up from Billie's shoulder when I walked in.

"Mmm," she murmured. "You look like a lesbian."

I smirked at her. "I am a lesbian."

"Oh, we know, baby," Billie grinned.

"Alright, we heading?" I asked.

Claire's face fell, and I winced. Billie gripped her arms tight around her, and kissed her cheek.

"We'll be late," she murmured. "But don't stay up. Remember we have all day and night tomorrow."

Claire nodded, and kissed her. "Have fun, I mean it."

I leaned in and kissed Claire, too. "Love you."

She nodded. "Me too."

I took Billie's hand and pulled her up, and headed for the door. I pulled on my Docs, then I looked back, and Claire was just sitting there on the side of the bed, looking like she was about to burst into tears. My heart ached, but Billie pulled my hand, and I followed her into the hall.

Billie had gotten us a limo. We sat in the back with a glass of champagne, my hand on her bare thigh.

She'd gone ultra femme tonight, and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was wearing a short, black, spaghetti strap dress. It was velvet, ruched in all the right places that showed off her curves. Under it she wore a lacy, red bra that showed under the straps of her dress, and stuck out around her cleavage. Best of all, she'd worn the same thigh high boots I'd worn to the Brit Awards.

I'd pulled at them, my eyebrows raised, remembering what happened the last time I'd worn them. She'd giggled and said, "What? They're comfy."

But now my hand was moving higher up her thigh, and my mouth was at her throat while she sipped her champagne. "Bill... I wanna fuck you in this limo."

She giggled again. "No, baby. We'll be there soon."

I kept working my mouth across her throat, ignoring her. My hand slid higher, and found the lacy panties that matched her exposed bra. I ran my fingers over them, and she sighed. "I mean it, baby, any minute."