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She’s just trying to smooth things over. Today is supposed to be about Deborah, and Ava doesn’t want any of the Little Debbies leaving with any negativity. But every time she opens her mouth something else gets twisted.
“Look, I just wanted to say thanks for the birthday corn muffin, okay? No hard feelings?”
“Oh there are plenty of hard feelings, bitch,” Cindy growls. Squaring her shoulders, she towers over Ava.
At first Ava thinks Cindy has pushed her as her body stumbles back into a table of X-Files merch, forcing the Smoking Man to drop his sharpie on the photo he’s signing. But she realizes that Deborah has insinuated her body between them and has her finger in Cindy’s face.
Flummoxed.
That’s the only word in Ava’s brain.
She’s so flummoxed she doesn’t register how fast it happens. One second Cindy is looming and the next she is shrinking under Deborah’s gaze.
“You do not get to talk to her like that,” Deborah says with an expression that makes Ava’s stomach flip.
“I was just–” Cindy starts meekly.
“I don’t care what you were just doing. You’re done.” The words land heavy. Final.
Cindy crumbles quicker than the stale corn muffin she’d given Ava earlier that day. Eyes lowered, she picks her cuticles and shuffles her feet.
“Sorry, Ava,” she says.
Before Ava can respond, Deborah grabs her arm, fingers warm and possessive. “Let’s go,” is all she says. Ava allows herself to be steered out of the venue and into the waiting car.
“What did you say to her?” she asks Deborah, still a little breathless.
“Don’t worry about it,” Deborah mutters. She’s looking at her phone, pecking out a text that Ava can’t make out because her eyes are misty. It suddenly occurs to her that maybe she fucked something up and Deborah is mad at her. The thought is like a hand around her throat, squeezing. It’s taken so long for her and Deborah to get to this place. If she’s somehow ruined it, she’ll never forgive herself.
“Deb, I’m sorry if I messed things up in there,” she says, voice cracking.
“You? What? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Deborah sends her text and deposits her phone in her massive satchel. Reaching across the seat, she grabs Ava’s hand and squeezes it. “I was just looking out for my special girl,” she says in a silken tone that sends a ripple of excitement through Ava’s spine.
“You don’t need to protect me,” Ava exhales, but doesn’t let go of Deborah’s hand. “Honestly, I should have known better. The girl was suss. I mean who says coolie? And no one's gonna randomly look up my old tweets.”
“Don’t say that,” Deborah says, stroking the inside of Ava’s wrist with her thumb.
“Do you?”
“Do I what?”
“Randomly look up my old tweets?’
“Good god no,” Deborah snorts, looking out the window with a sly smile as they are driven home.
At home, Ava is surprised by the party. Her friends, the food, and music are all incredible, but as she pokes her tongue into the thick, sugary frosting of a chocolate cupcake, she realizes she’s still thinking about the way Deborah stood up for her at the con.
Deborah had never done anything quite like that for Ava before.
And Ava likes it. She likes it a lot.
“You know… you gave me scary dog privileges today,” she says later, a little tipsy, her head floating from the blunt she and Deborah just shared in the kitchen.
“I beg your pardon?” Deborah asks, brow raised, eyes narrowed in an expression of offended confusion.
Ava giggles, dropping her face into her arms on the counter. “It’s just an expression.”
“We might have decided that we are each other’s only friends, Ava, but I’m not a dog and will not be compared to one.” Deborah rips a length of tin foil from a roll to cover the fat-free pumpkin bread she just made, mashing it around the pan with an annoyed air.
“Have you seriously never heard of this before? It’s been floating around online for ages.”
“Is there anything that the internet hasn’t poisoned?” Deborah scoffs.
“No, you don’t get it,” Ava laughs. “It’s like when a woman gets a dog that looks scary so that she can feel safe in places she normally might not go because of fear of being attacked.”
“It still sounds like you’re calling me a dog.”
“I’m saying you made me feel safe.” Ava curls her fingers around the back of Deborah’s neck and pulls her into a kiss. “And it felt good.”
“Oh?”
“Mmhmm. To have you handle it.”
“And, I looked… scary?”
“You looked hot.”
Deborah considers this for a moment, her expression shifting to smug satisfaction.
“You like it when I handle things for you.” It is a statement. Deborah is not asking. She is alerting Ava to this fact.
“Uh huh,” Ava mumbles against Deborah’s lips, squirming on her thigh. She buries her face in Deborah’s neck and inhales her spicy floral perfume. The pressure of her jeans on her clit is not nearly enough. She rides Deborah’s thigh, seeking friction.
“You like it when people know you’re mine?” Deborah murmurs, one hand on Ava’s ass and the other in her hair.
“God yes,” Ava groans.
“Then let’s show everyone just how mine you are, sweetheart.” Deborah grabs Ava’s hair and pulls her head back. And before Ava can formulate a pithy retort, Deborah presses her teeth into Ava’s neck, sinking into the fleshy spot just above her shoulder.
“Yours,” is all Ava manages, breath and body trembling in Deborah’s embrace.
“You’re goddamn right you are,” Deborah says, licking over the spot she just bit and sucking up what Ava knows will be a lurid bruise. “And no turtlenecks or scarves either. I want everyone to see.”
“Fuck.”
“Does that make you wet?”
“Yes.”
“For me?”
“Yes. For you. Just for you. Only ever for you, Deb,” Ava babbles.
“There’s a good girl,” Deborah murmurs, her voice low, hushed, impossibly sexy. “But I think it’s past your bedtime. Upstairs with you.”
“My bed? Or…?”
“Oh, mine, I think,” Deborah sighs, a smile playing on her lips.
Ava drifts upstairs in a dreamy haze to Deborah’s room and stands at the foot of the bed.
“Stay,” Deborah says and disappears into the bathroom. She reappears several moments later wrapped in a silk robe and tosses back the covers before taking her place on the bed. Ava has not moved a muscle. “Clothes off,” she says pleasantly. Fingers trembling, Ava complies. When she strips off her panties and bra, she waits until Deborah pats the spot beside her on the bed. Ava slides onto the silky sheets, biting her bottom lip to keep from grinning. “Now, Ava?”
“Yeah?”
“If someone ever speaks like that to you again, you don’t engage,” Deborah says softly. She cups Ava’s breast with velvet fingers and brushes over her nipple. Ava’s eyes roll back with a little sigh. “Look at me, honey.”
“Okay, yeah,” Ava gulps, focusing on Deborah’s glinting blue eyes. Deborah leans in and flicks Ava’s nipple with her tongue. “Jesus, fuck.”
“You don’t engage. You get me and let me handle it.” She takes Ava’s breast in her mouth and sucks, stroking down Ava’s body and spreading her thighs. “Understood?”
“Ye- yes. Understood.”
“Good girl,” Deborah whispers, her fingers sliding up into Ava. Ava’s cheeks turn crimson when Deborah discovers just how wet she already is. With a self-satisfied chuckle, Deborah adds, “Very good girl.”
Deborah gently pushes Ava back onto the pillows and coaxes her legs wider. Ava is limp under her touch, letting herself be positioned and touched like a doll.
“Fucking hell, Deborah, why is it so hot that you’d ruin someone for me?”
“Dunno, sweetheart, but right now I’m just focused on ruining you.” She kisses Ava’s neck, nibbling the bruise she just made as she teases Ava’s opening until Ava practically vibrates with need. “Would you like that?” she murmurs. “For me to make you fall completely apart?”
“Yes, please.”
“Like this?” Deborah pumps her fingers into Ava in slow, deliberate strokes, pulling out to circle her clit and then sinking back in.
“Uh huh,” Ava whimpers, the meaning momentarily gone from language.
“You need someone to bark at people and be scary for you, don’t you?” Deborah purrs. “I mean, look at you…” She focuses her attention on Ava’s clit for a moment until Ava’s head spins and her legs are quivering. “You’re so easy. Folding like a ten-dollar lawn chair from Walmart because you want to get off, hmm?”
“God yes,” Ava gasps. “I need it. I need you, Deborah.”
“Of course you do, baby.”
“Fuck, Deborah, I’m not going to last.”
“That’s right. Feel good?”
“Ye-yeah…”
“Mmmh, see what happens when you stop trying to manage everything yourself and let someone else take care of things for you?” Deborah whispers, her breath tickling the little hairs on Ava’s neck. Ava thrusts onto Deborah’s fingers, trying to take her deeper, but Deborah holds her down with a firm hand. “I’ve got this, honey. Just let me and don’t worry about it.” She fucks her middle and ring fingers into Ava and curls them, but Ava’s already so overstimulated that she starts coming after just a few more thrusts and a graze of Deborah’s index finger over her clit.
“Ohmygodfuck!” she yelps, trying to be good and stay still for Deborah as she comes but struggling as the sensation ripples through her body in warm waves that feel almost painful, they’re so good.
“More?” Deborah asks, her voice menacingly sweet.
“No, no more, too much,” Ava pants.
“Oh, I think that you have a little more left for me, hmm? Come on, honey. You can keep going.”
“Jesus hell, Deborah,” Ava whines, but she doesn’t safeword. She rides out her orgasm and lets Deborah take her into her next one, and then a third without even meaning to. “Okay, done now,” she gasps.
“One more,” Deborah sighs, fingers still teasing Ava’s swollen cunt.
“I can’t,” Ava sobs.
“You don’t have to. Just let me take care of it, okay?”
“Deborah…”
“Be a good girl,” Deborah presses her forehead against Ava’s damp cheek and licks her jaw. “This one is mine,” she whispers. “This one is just for me, baby.”
Ava squeezes her eyes shut and listens to Deborah order her to climax. And she does it. Somehow, she manages to completely give her body over to Deborah and fall apart one last time. Deborah finally takes her hand away and lets Ava roll into her and rub against her thigh to soothe the frantic stimulation.
“Wow,” she says, still trying to catch her breath. “You really are scary.”
“Well, one of us has to be,” Deborah scoffs. “What are we going to get with you? Labradoodle privileges?”
“Hey,” Ava pouts and pulls Deborah’s arm over her. “I always thought of myself as more of a golden retriever.”
“Either way, I think I might have to put a collar on you.”
“Fucking hell, Deborah, that is the hottest thing I've ever heard anyone say and it would absolutely ruin me for life.”
“Yeah. That’s the idea, baby,” Deborah laughs softly. “You want some water?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
“You drank a lot tonight. I’ll get you a bottle of water,” Deborah says. Grinning into her pillow, Ava watches Deborah get up and leave the room to fetch her a bottle of water.