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Andy inhaled slowly as she sat up, adjusting the pillow behind her and stretching her legs. The sheets were a little sweaty, her skin still damp and sticky, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up just yet, especially with the promise of Miranda getting back in bed with her.
But soon five, then ten minutes passed with no sign of Miranda, leaving Andy both restless and slightly concerned. She was just beginning to climb out of bed when she heard the click of a lock and the soft shuffle of bare feet on hardwood. She smiled as she leaned over to look through the doorway.
“I was just beginning to,” she began, then nearly fell off of the bed in shock. “Where did you find that? How did you find that?"
Miranda’s mouth curled into what could only be disguised as a shit-eating grin as she sauntered into the room, and held her arms out to inspect the sleeves they were tucked inside. “Oh, this? It was in the closet, just…” Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at Andy. “Screaming my name.”
The cerulean sweater hung loosely on Miranda’s slim frame, the cheap fabric stretched from years on a hanger in the back of Andy’s various apartment closets, and just barely obscured the g-string that she was wearing. Still coming down from the three orgasms that Miranda had just given her, Andy found herself navigating an odd sense of both arousal and disgust at the sight of her girlfriend in Talbot’s finest 2005 fall collection.
“Oh my god,” Andy groaned, dropping her face into her hands.
She felt the bed dip as Miranda joined her, and her tone was one of pure, unrestrained glee when she pressed against Andy slightly. “This is what you get for never organizing your closet like I recommended.”
Andy looked up and delivered her best glare. “I wasn’t going to pay some guy to buy me more hangers.”
“He wasn’t ‘some guy.’ He is the preeminent home organizer in the tri-state area.” Miranda rolled her eyes. “And I offered to pay.”
“If I’d known that you’d go digging through my closet for old relics, maybe I would have let you,” Andy countered, but she felt her snippy tone fading as she watched Miranda run a hair through her silver hair while tugging on the sweater’s high collar.
“What a shame,” Miranda said airily, sitting back just enough that the sweater rode up slightly, exposing her soft, pale midriff. She was still playing with the collar, sliding her finger along it absentmindedly and exposing the sharp edges of her collarbones. “When you could have been wearing it all these years.”
“If you’re gearing up for a sequel to your lecture…”
Miranda smirked. “Oh? You’re beyond my advice now?”
“I think you of all people should know how well I can dress,” Andy said. She sat up on her knees, dragging her hands down her bare abdomen and thighs. “Well, I guess you can’t tell right now, but…”
She looked up to see a familiar, hungry look in Miranda’s eyes, and she knew she’d won. “Anyway. Guess I’ll go throw on my best plaid skirt and some Keds, since clearly this isn’t doing anything for you—”
She’d hardly moved an inch before Miranda’s hand was reaching out and grabbing her arm, blunt nails digging into her skin as she was dragged on top of her. Andy settled over her hips, the inside of her thigh grazing the hem of the sweater.
“Wow, this is kinda scratchy,” she said, pushing it away from her skin with a grimace.
Miranda rolled her eyes and tugged Andy’s hand towards the hem. “You think I don’t know that? Now take it off and make it up to me.”
“Make what up to you?” Andy laughed, but she was pulling the sweater up Miranda’s body already.
“For keeping this abominable item in your closet for the last five years. I thought I’d taught you better.”
Once the sweater was over Miranda’s head and tossed behind them, Andy gave her a bashful shrug. “I dunno. It felt like… well, kind of a keepsake. A memento.”
Miranda’s face twisted into pure disgust. “To your time as an American Girl doll?”
“To that job, I guess, and… well, you.” Andy felt herself blushing, and Miranda’s mouth lifted slightly as she stared up at her.
“To me,” she repeated.
“It’s embarrassing, I know,” Andy said, moving to hide her face again, but Miranda wrapped her fingers around her wrist gently.
“Yes, it is,” she said, stroking the skin with her thumb. Her smile was positively wicked when she looked at Andy again. “I suppose hadn’t realized how… impactful my little monologue was. Perhaps I should critique you more often.”
Andy narrowed her eyes as she settled onto Miranda, rolling her hips forward slightly and smirking when she pulled a soft gasp from her lips. “You didn’t have much to critique a few minutes ago.”
Flexing her jaw, Miranda fidgeted underneath Andy before narrowing her eyes. “Well, there’s always opportunity for improvement. You’ll just have to try again.”
“Fine,” Andy sighed, but she was already leaning down and pressing a kiss to Miranda’s throat, smiling at the predictable groan that followed, and very glad that she hadn’t gotten rid of that sweater.