“Okay, okay. I’ll give you her number! Just please don’t hurt me!” Gary cowers in his chair, feeling a tremendous urge to hide under his desk. With trembling hands, he writes the number down on a notepad and hands it to Sara. Praying in his mind, he hopes that Ava will never find out that he gave her number away. “Now go!” He even has the gall to shoo at her. “Hurry, she’ll be here any second!” Gary looks around desperately, almost as if Ava would jump out of a wall and yell ‘boo!’
Sara smiles sweetly and takes the piece of paper, folding it over twice before slipping it into her pocket. “Thanks, Gary. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.” She smirks. “I’ll let Ava do that.” As she turns and starts to walk away, she runs into the object of her affection. Although a more accurate phrase is object of her obsession. Not that she’s a crazy stalker or anything. Sara just feels something for Ava, something other than lust she is unwilling to name, for now. And when Sara wants something, she goes for it. This time, she’s just taking a … different approach.
As Ava rounds the corner, she freezes when she sees Sara. “Captain Lance? What are you doing here?” Ava is always formal in her workplace, calling everybody by their proper title. Everyone except Gary. For some reason, it feels odd to call Gary, Agent Green. It’s probably because they have more than just a boss-underling relationship. She’d like to think that they’re friends. She’s also unsure if calling her ‘Sara’ is appropriate. After all, they’re not quite friends, but definitely not enemies anymore. So Ava decides to play it safe, like she usually does.
Sara, on the other hand, has no qualms about anything of the sort. “Hey, Ava. Gary was just helping me out with something.” Turning back to the man in question, Sara shoots him a deadly look that promises to break all his fingers and toes if he lets Ava know just how he ‘helped’ her. Gary swallows nervously, his eyes darting around for a wall he can blend into.
Ava also turns back to look at Gary questioningly, wondering exactly what Sara needs help with. The Time Bureau seems like the last place she’d go for help but maybe that’s in the past now. She doesn’t even particularly mind Sara calling her by her first name. In fact, her name on Sara’s tongue sounds … nice. Everyone always calls her Director Sharpe. It was … nice (yes she was using that word again) being acknowledged as a person, not only with detached deference.
The progression from adversary to tentative friend is startling, but welcome all the same. Although Sara likes provoking Ava, working together with her has proven that they make a good team. Enemies—Sara has them in spades; she doesn’t need to make the Time Bureau an enemy. Having Ava on her side is great but it isn’t nearly enough. Sara smirks to herself. Ava Sharpe won’t know what hit her.
Gary swivels his chair around and smiles but it just looks like a creepy grimace. With thoughts of possible murder and dismemberment from both Sara and Ava if he tells, he is doubly screwed. From now on, he promises to be the best agent ever so Ava won’t suspect a thing. Ava looks a bit suspicious already so Gary stands up and greets her with as much enthusiasm as he can muster. “Hi boss! How are you? You look great today,” he rambles. “N-not that you don’t look great everyday!” Gary quickly adds when Ava raises an eyebrow. “Do you want some coffee? I want some coffee. I’ll go get you some coffee!”
“You seem jittery. Maybe you should lay off the coffee, Gary.” Sara gives him a look of concern, with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips.
Ava huffs amusedly, easily seeing through Sara’s concerned act. “You feeling okay, Gary?” As his boss and friend, she’s actually a little concerned about how he’s acting right now.
“Of course! I’m gonna... get some water,” Gary titters nervously, shifting from one foot to another. He needs to get out of here! Directing his next words at Ava, he makes his escape. “I’ll be right back, boss!” He scurries away quickly, leaving Ava with a bewildered expression on her face and Sara with an expression of amusement.
After Gary’s hasty departure, Ava turns back to Sara, who quickly realizes that they are now alone. She speaks before Ava can get a word in. “I should get back to the Waverider. See ya around.” She smiles, a brief genuine smile and then strides away as fast as Gary has.
“Bye?” Ava bemusedly gets out before Sara disappears down the hall. What was that all about? Ava shakes her head and slips into her office, intent to get to work. Her life revolves around sleeping, eating, and working. Mostly working. Then again, she wouldn’t know what to do if she isn’t working.
Ava is in bed, reading an article about how effective employee management garners beneficial results and improves employee performance. When her phone buzzes once on the nightstand, she puts down her tablet. If it was work, surely they would’ve called her. Reaching out blindly for the phone with her right hand, she grabs it and checks the screen. She has a text—more specifically a picture—but it is from an unknown number. She debates ignoring it, but eventually, curiosity gets the better of Ava and she opens the message, hoping that she won’t regret it.
Ava gulps in surprise. This is not what she is expecting. Maybe a picture of a baby or a pet sent by mistake but not this. She can quickly tell that the picture is of a woman even though there is no face, only the upper chest shown. It is clearly meant to seduce, to tease the recipient and leave them fantasizing about what’s under. Ava thinks that the woman has definitely succeeded. The woman’s shapely breasts are covered by pale blue lace. Similar to the eyes of Sara Lance, Ava thinks. Where did that come from? She continues her perusal, feeling like a lecher drooling over a picture. The woman is only wearing a bra for gods sakes. A sexy bra, Ava reminds herself. The lacy fabric molds to her chest, cupping each breast snugly. Licking her lips, Ava thinks that they might fit perfectly in her hands. Sucking in a breath, she can just make out the shape of her nipples through the thin fabric. They are lightly colored, perhaps a shade of pink or maybe brown. What Ava finds most admirable is that her skin is not entirely unblemished. There, slightly above the left breast is a single scar that looks like an old wound. She is clearly comfortable and unashamed with her body to send something like this. But why should she need to feel shame? Everyone has scars whether they are above or below the surface and in this woman’s case, it doesn’t detract from the sensuality of the picture at all.
There is a caption underneath the picture: Do you like it?
Yes. Hell yes, Ava likes it. She imagines Sara wearing this bra… with matching panties, mouthing the words to her. It makes Ava warm. The phone falls from her hands onto the covers with a soft thud. She shifts uncomfortably and throws the covers off her legs. A second later, she whips of her tank top, leaving her in a black sport bra. Ava has no idea why she is getting so worked up over a picture. Or why she is fantasizing about Sara Lance. Okay, so maybe she has just a teeny crush on Sara. Taking a deep breath, Ava hopes to calm herself. It does little to help.
Ava decides to ignore the message, hoping that the woman will take the hint. A tiny selfish part of her hopes that the woman won’t be deterred and will send her another scantily clad picture.
A few minutes later, Ava feels guilty and disgusted with herself for acting this way. This woman clearly did not mean to send it to her. Ava wants to spare her as much embarrassment as possible so she keeps the message short and simple. Ava also wants to make it clear that she is not here to judge. Her mind made up, she types “I think you have the wrong number.” and sends it. It goes through.
Putting down her phone and picking up her tablet, Ava tries to concentrate on the article again. Ten minutes later, she has reread the same sentence over and over again. Still, her mind refuses to process the words in front of her. Her eyes continue to unconsciously drift to her phone, which has not buzzed at all. An hour later, there is still no reply. Although Ava hasn’t expected one, she is… disappointed. She turns off her tablet and flicks the lamp off, deciding to to put this foolish feeling behind her and go to sleep, even though it is only ten o’clock.
Just as sleep begins to drag her under, her phone buzzes. The sound is loud and grating as it vibrates against the wooden table. Ava is immediately alert, her whole body shooting up in response. The covers fall down, revealing her torso still clad in only a bra. Her heart beating in trepidation—not excitement, she tells herself—Ava briefly fumbles in the dark until she grasps the cool, rectangular shape in her hands. As she unlocks it, the phone lights up and illuminates her face in a white glow. Ava’s happy mood suddenly darkens. She visibly deflates. The text is not from her. It’s only Gary.
Good night, boss.
Sighing, Ava automatically types back a similar reply and sets her phone down again. Why is Gary texting her anyway? Come to think of it, he’s been acting weird all day, Ava thinks. She shakes it off. Gary’s just being Gary.
That night, Ava dreams of a mysterious woman wearing blue lace that matches her eyes. Her face is blurry but her eyes are a familiar, haunting blue.
On the other side of the world and timeline, Sara smiles to herself in her quarters. She had predicted Ava’s response would be something like that. Ava is just too honorable. That makes Sara fall harder and causes her to feel all the more determined. She doesn’t really have a plan, but when did she ever? Tomorrow would be a new day. She unclasps the bra and throws it on the bed beside her. The covers feels wonderful against her bare skin as she drifts off to sleep.
Ava trudges into her apartment. Being in charge is taxing but it has its perks. As Director of the Time Bureau, she’s supposed to be facilitating operations here and overlooking the agents at HQ. However, a large part of her misses being in the field and as Director, she can do whatever the hell she wants. In a manner of speaking, of course. Occasionally, like today, when Ava is bored out of her mind looking over paperwork and feeling antsy due to being stuck in her office all day, she takes a team and tackles an anachronism. It’s a good workout and she enjoys the challenge. She put Gary in charge and he diligently promised to take on the role while she was out.
Immediately after toeing off her shoes, Ava heads for the bathroom, wanting to clean the sweat and grime off her body. The slightly warm water slicks down her body, as traces of dirt swirl around the drain. About half an hour later, she shuts water off and steps out of the glass cubicle, looking and feeling more refreshed. After toweling off her body, she absently combs through the dark blonde strands and decides to let her hair dry naturally.
Ava ambles to the kitchen and opens her fridge. What she finds—or doesn’t find—is disappointing. The cupboards don’t give her much hope either. Her stomach rumbles in protest when a sharp ringing fills the room. Ava picks up her tablet, glancing at the screen curiously.
Incoming call from Sara Lance
She accepts the call, wondering if it is an emergency of some sort. Ava automatically smiles as Sara’s lovely face fills the screen.
“Hey,” Sara says, returning the smile.
“Hi. Is something wrong?” Ava asks. Sara is smiling so that’s probably a good sign.
“Should I be hurt that you think the only reason I’m calling you is because I need your help?” Sara smirks and takes notice of Ava’s wet hair.
“Well, do you need my help?” Ava counters, raising an eyebrow. She sees Sara looking at her hair and is a bit embarrassed to be caught looking like this.
Sara bites her lip and looks nervous all of a sudden. “Do you wanna join me — I mean us for dinner? If you’re not busy, that is.”
Ava is shocked but warmed by the offer. Her stomach takes that as its cue to growl again and Ava blushes, cursing her body for being unable to control itself. “I’d love to,” she finally says. “My fridge is woefully empty,” she sighs.
“Great,” Sara beams. “I’ll see you soon then.” She ends the call abruptly, and the screen becomes blank, leaving Ava to get ready.
Ava changes although it takes her a moment to decide what to wear. Her closet is mostly filled with pantsuits and white blouses, perfect for work but not something like this. Her suits give her a sense of authority; they make her feel more in control and Ava resists the urge to put one on. It’s not work, she tells herself. Just dinner with some colleagues. Digging deep in her drawers, she finds a soft blue T-shirt and a pair of skinny black jeans she never thought she owned. There is no time to blow dry her hair so she leaves it down and wet.
Using her time courier, Ava opens a portal and steps into the Waverider. As she follows the sound of laughter and rowdiness which eventually lead her to the kitchen, she dimly wonders just what she has gotten herself into.
“Ava!” At the head of the table, Sara stands up when she sees Ava lurking in the doorway of the kitchen, looking uncertain.
The chatter stops for a moment as everyone else looks up at the new arrival. They don’t look surprised or angry at seeing her and Ava feels her nerves dissipating just a little. Amaya greets her first and the others follow with a similar variation. Sara motions her over to an empty chair beside her and the conversation jovially resumes.
She quickly becomes relaxed in this comfortable atmosphere. The food is great and the company is also quite pleasant. Ava can see the camaraderie and the strong bond that this team has. The fact that they’ve accepted her into the fold is a testament to how wrong her first impression was and how her opinion of them has vastly changed since then. Simply content to watch their interactions, Ava makes a comment here or there only when she feels like it.
“You okay?” Sara asks and Ava’s eyes snap up to meet hers.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. My mind just drifts off sometimes.” As cliche as it is, Ava can easily get lost in Sara’s eyes. They are a clear and vibrant blue, always sparkling with mischief.
Sara gives her an understanding smile. “They’re not too loud, are they?”
“No,” Ava immediately denies. “It’s totally fine. I’m having a great time. Thanks for inviting me, by the way.” Her tone is soft, sincere, bashful.
“You’re welcome anytime, Ava.” Their gazes hold while conversation flows around them like people going around a couple standing still in the middle of a crowded street.
Their moment is predictably broken—by Mick. “Hey, hotcakes. Could you pass the garlic bread?”
When Ava returns to her apartment, her hair is mostly dry. Her apartment, as small and practical it is, feels big and empty. Solitude was never a problem before but now, Ava notices the quiet and feels the loneliness closing in. Her abode is absent of the boisterous laughter and cozy atmosphere that the Waverider contains. Maybe I should get a cat or something. She discards that idea quickly, her life is busy enough already.
Flipping through the television, there is nothing worth watching. Ava changes and gets ready for bed. She receives another ‘good night’ text from Gary, which she dutifully responds to again with a hint of a smile. Her mind suddenly flashes to the other text—and picture she received yesterday.
As if summoned by thought, her phone buzzes again. Ava is unwilling to believe her eyes. It’s her again. Another picture is sent this time. Ava opens the message with shaky hands.
This time, it’s a picture of a toned torso. She definitely works out, Ava thinks as her eyes greedily trace the lines of her abs. She wonders how it’s possible to be attracted to a total stranger she hasn’t ever even seen the face of. Like the other picture, her skin is smooth but not flawless. On her abdomen, there are a few thin scars and a faded starburst that looks to be the cause of a bullet. She’s a survivor.
Ava can make out just a hint of black underwear below, hugging curved hips. She longs to find out what’s under.
There is another caption: You’re beautiful.
Ava thinks that this woman has it wrong. She’s beautiful, not Ava, but her. Should Ava reply? What should she say? After all, Ava has told this stranger that she had the wrong number, so why did she send her another picture today?
Ava could trace this number, put an end to this once and for all. But it would feel too intrusive, and Ava doesn’t want to be let down by who she finds behind this phone number. She decides to leave it alone.
Much to Gary and other agents’ surprise, Ava begins to get off of work on time, staying only when there is an emergency that needs to be handled. If there is any gossip or speculation about where she goes after, Ava chooses to ignore it.
A different but equally seductive picture has been sent to Ava every night following the first. As frustrating as it is, they are never pictures of the stranger’s face only her body—with no particularly identifying marks either unless she counts the scars. A slender neck wearing a simple silver chain. Slim yet muscular biceps. Toned thighs. Each picture is always accompanied with a compliment or comment of some sort that never fails to make Ava blush and wet. Although she wants to, she never quite finds the courage to reply or god forbid—send a similar picture back.
Ava has also joined the crew for dinner a couple more times, but she always makes sure to leave before it gets too late. That is because the pictures are always sent around the same time and Ava prefers to be in the privacy of her own home before opening them.
Countless times, Ava tries to imagine what this stranger’s face would look like, what color her hair would be, what color her eyes would be. Blonde. Ava is somehow certain that her hair would be blonde. And her eyes—an ocean blue. Her mind always goes back to Sara. A part of Ava feels guilty, like she’s cheating on Sara or something. But they’re not even in a relationship. Even if she desperately wants them to be.
Her dreams are filled with a stranger with blonde hair and blue eyes that gradually morphs into Sara Lance.
“Gary?” Ava calls out from her office.
“Yes, Director Sharpe?” Gary appears at her door a second later, looking ready to take on the world if she says the word.
“Can you get me Sa-Captain Lance’s phone number?” Ava corrects herself. It would be nice to text and talk to Sara without having to video chat on the tablet all the time, not that it isn’t nice seeing her face though. As time passes, Ava discovers—accepts that her mere crush isn’t mere at all, nor is it a simple crush that she expects to fade over time. She has an inkling that Sara may feel the same. Maybe it’s time to put the beautiful stranger in the past. After all, she’s just a stranger—an attractive one at that—but a stranger that may even not exist. And Ava can’t base a relationship on just attraction when she has something real—right here, right now, with Sara Lance. She resolves to make a move before Sara slips away.
Gary nods, looking nervous and twitchy like that day she found him and Sara conversing at his desk. “Of course.” He calmly walks out. When he is out of sight, he breaks into a run and heads for the bathroom as other agents stare at him like he is insane. Shutting the door behind him, he collapses onto the floor, curling his legs under him. “She’s going to kill me!” Gary whispers, not knowing if he is referring to Sara or Ava.
Walking towards her office, Ava passes Gary’s desk but he is nowhere to be found. He must be off doing some other errands, she surmises. When she walks into her office, she sees that Gary has left her a post-it with the number she requested on her desk. It looks very familiar. Frantically, she pulls up the unknown number that has sent her the texts & pictures on her phone and then she looks at the number Gary jotted down. They are identical. This explains a lot of things: why she wasn’t discouraged, why it seemed like she treated Ava with such familiarity and intimacy. But how did Sara even get her number?
Gary. No doubt that’s why he’s conspicuously absent right now.
Ava should be angry with both of them, probably more at Sara. And she is, but the anger fades shortly after as a wicked idea comes to mind.
Tonight, Ava is vibrating with energy and excitement. Now that she knows who the mystery woman is, Ava is relieved, aroused, and dumbfounded. The woman she might be in love with and her are one and the same.
Waiting is tortuous, a curtain that unveils itself to the crowd painfully slowly. Has she been resorted to this? To a desperate woman staring at the clock as it ticks by slowly, second by second?
Finally, her phone buzzes and Ava nearly drops her phone in anticipation.
This picture … it would be the death of her. A Level 12 anachronism could’ve popped up right now, and Ava would undeniably ignore it in favor of staring at this … masterpiece.
Pale, smooth thighs are spread to reveal silk lavender panties. The picture is taken at an angle where the crotch is at eye level with the camera, exposing a delicate treasure that is barely hidden by the surface. A hand is placed over her mound, slender fingers spread slightly, pressing against the fabric. There is a decidedly wet spot in the middle, darkening the pale silk.
The corresponding text is equally provocative: You do this to me.
The words and the evidence shown by the image provokes a visceral reaction from Ava, one that is far more intense than before. It’s a step up from the sensual display of her body; those were a mere tease, a wisp of a kiss, a slight caress. But this … this is a downright proposition, a blatant invitation. And now that she knows that it's Sara freaking Lance, damn if Ava isn’t going to accept.
Feeling more confident than ever, Ava finally replies.
A portal opens into the Waverider and Ava Sharpe steps through, wearing a long black trench coat. Like a woman on a mission, she strides down the hallway, passing by Ray. He looks at her in surprise and starts to wave. “Direc—”
“Where’s Sara?” Ava abruptly cuts him off. Any other time, she would’ve stopped and exchanged pleasantries but not now.
Ray pauses and lowers his hand awkwardly. “Uh, in her room I think?” He looks confused, not that she can blame him.
“Which way?” Ava asks brusquely. Impatience eats away at her as desire floods her brain in a great wave, wiping out everything else but the woman she is anxious to get to.
“Down this corridor. Last room on the left,” Ray replies, still looking like a lost puppy.
“Thanks.” Without another word, Ava briskly walks away.
Ray scratches his head and watches Ava as she heads in the direction of Sara's room. He looks up. “Should I have told her that, Gideon?”
“If Director Sharpe means any harm, I will stop her from entering Captain Lance’s quarters. My systems detect that Director Sharpe’s heartbeat is elevated, her pupils are dilated and her breathing is three times faster than normal,” Gideon informs.
“Okay?” Ray says, unsure of where Gideon was going with this.
“These could be signs of anger. However, I am 98.9% sure that they are signs of arousal instead,” Gideon explains.
“Oh,” Ray replies. “Ohhh.” His brain finally catches up with him. “You mean her and Sara are gonna …?” His face scrunches up.
“Have sex? According to my calculations, there is a 99% possibility of this happening.”
Ray shakes his head and decides to head to the lab instead, which is in the opposite direction of their rooms. “Thanks, Gideon.”
“Of course, Dr. Palmer,” the A.I says.
He runs into Zari on his way. Her room is fortunate or unfortunate enough to be nearest to the Captain’s.
“Don’t go to your room right now. Wait a couple of hours, at least. Trust me,” Ray warns with a queasy expression on his face.
“Uh… not that I’m heading there now but why?" Zari crinkles her forehead.
“Captain Lance and Director Sharpe are most likely going to engage in sexual intercourse. Since your quarters are in closest range to hers, Dr. Palmer thought it best to warn you that it may get quite loud,” Gideon helpfully responds.
“Ugh, I knew they had some weird sexual tension between them,” Zari mutters and continues to the engine room like she intended to in the first place. Maybe there’s something she can tinker on for a while, something that won’t incite the wrath of Gideon. She’s always been more of a night owl anyways.
Sara’s cheeks are flushed from the picture she just received. She wonders why Ava replies today of all days. And not with a text but a sexy picture of her own. Of its own accord, her hand drifts down to her panties and begins to massage her clit through the soaked silk. A moan slips out, wanton and needy.
A loud knock startles her. Who the fuck could it be at this time of night? Sara runs through the usual suspects. Zari, Mick, and Nate would never knock. So that leaves Amaya, Ray, or a very polite Time Pirate.
With a ragged breath, Sara slips on pajama pants, her panties sticking uncomfortably to her thighs “Let ‘em in, Gideon.” She locks her phone and hopes she looks presentable. Well, as presentable as one could be in pajama bottoms and a bra.
“Yes, Captain.” The doors slide open.
“This better be good,” she grumbles.
It is none of the above. Instead, Ava looms in the doorway, her silhouette dancing on the walls. She looks unfazed by Sara’s threat but that’s all Sara can glean from Ava’s expression as she steps inside. The doors ominously close behind her.
“Aves,” Sara says in her lilting voice, using a nickname that Ava had hated before but now she has grown to love it. “What’s up?” Her mind immediately conjures up the sinful image Ava sent moments ago. Lacy black bra with a matching thong paired with black pumps. Wondering if that’s what’s under her long black coat right now, Sara groans softly at the inappropriate, stray thought and shifts under the covers as more moisture floods her panties. She tries to act normal. “Are you finally taking me up on that movie? Or do you wanna have dinner? I could have Gideon whip something up,” Sara offers when all she wants to do is fuck Ava.
“I appreciate the offer, but my particular hunger cannot be satiated by food.” Ava’s voice is low, her eyes dark. She walks closer, heels clicking on the floor, until she is right beside Sara’s bed. Blue eyes wander over Sara’s exposed chest, lingering on the scar.
Sara licks her suddenly parched lips, not even attempting to cover herself as dark sapphires sear into her skin. “You know, don’t you.” It’s more of a statement than a question. She realizes it’s the reason why Ava has sent a picture back. As a silly afterthought, part of Sara is glad that Ava knows, because she’s running out of ideas for pictures.
“Yes.” Ava’s not going to deny it.
They look at each other and speak simultaneously. “Gary.”
Ava’s dark coat is carelessly discarded on the floor, one of her heels flung somewhere in the room while the other lies on the floor at the end of the bed.
“Gideon, make sure—” Sara pants in between kisses. “That no one can get in ...”
“Already done, Captain.”
“We need to talk, you know,” Ava breathes as Sara nibbles on her ear.
“Later,” Sara grunts. Eager hands wander to Ava’s back, unclasping the bra with practiced ease. She guides the straps off Ava’s shoulders. The lacy cups fall away to reveal bronze skin and hardened nipples. The bra is quickly flung away to some random corner of the room.
Ava groans as Sara’s warm hands cup her breasts, grazing the stiff peaks. Lips travel downward, nipping waywardly on her clavicle, enjoying the impatience radiating from the woman above. Sara sucks harshly, leaving a purple-red mark on her skin. Fingers tangle into blonde hair, pulling until finally, warmth covers her aching nipple. Glinting sapphires snap shut; there’s only darkness in the background as sparks burst beneath her eyelids.
Giving the turgid peak a last tug between her teeth, Sara lets go to capture Ava’s mouth. Her hands continue their urgent quest until they meet damp cloth. With deadly precision, fingers find their target. She has found liquid gold. Circling over silky flesh, reveling in the overflow of moisture that can’t be contained.
Mouths still fused together, Ava rocks against the skilled hand. Realizing that Sara still has most of her clothing on, Ava reaches around to unclasp Sara’s bra, her movements not ceasing. Their bare breasts brush, creating tempting friction. She only manages to get half of Sara’s pants off when a finger slips inside her and then another. Her hands grasp onto a convenient place — Sara’s behind. When it becomes too much and not enough at the same time, Ava buries her face in Sara’s neck, nonsensical words falling from her lips.
Breathless moans reach Sara’s ears as Ava nears her peak. She doubles her efforts, fingers pistoning and curling, thumb running over the slippery pearl.
“Come for me,” Sara growls.
Teeth sink into her shoulder, nails bite into her ass as Ava’s back arches in response to her words. Sara embraces the pain, enjoys it even with some sadistic satisfaction as shudders wrack Ava’s frame.
After flipping them over, Ava hurriedly takes off her soaked thong. Then, she roughly tugs off Sara’s cotton pants with cute little penguins on them along with her lavender panties. Ava only takes a split second to savor the dampness of the silk before it is tossed over her shoulder like the rest of their clothes.
Moving between Sara’s spread legs, she drapes a leg over her shoulder. Sara’s sky blue eyes cloud over with lust at her intent. Ava’s mouth hovers over glistening folds and then swiftly descends, devouring without any hesitation. Her taste leaves Ava’s greedy for more and she rakes her blunt nails against a quivering thigh.
“Ava!” Sara’s hands push their way into thick blonde hair, yanking harshly at their roots. Hips instinctively buck up to meet a talented tongue. The mouth that once spat out insults and cruelty now only spears her clit with never-ending pleasure.
Ava looks up, transfixed by the view of Sara caressing her own breasts, pinching swollen, red peaks between her fingertips. Her tongue doesn’t waver, licking in time with the writhing body beneath hers. Only when Ava has wrung out every drop of pleasure from Sara’s convulsing form does she finally come to a stop. She licks her shimmering lips and rests her head on Sara’s thigh, gently bringing the other leg down from her shoulder. The hands in her hair lay limp like the rest of Sara’s form as the woman below her struggles to catch her breath and Ava is filled with a sense of pride for reducing a trained assassin to this.
Laying in bed, they are both a sweaty but content mess. Ava’s hand is absently stroking Sara’s shoulder, caressing the red mark that has faint indents of her teeth.
“You know you could’ve just asked me out right?” Ava says casually.
“I did…n’t,” Sara replies slowly as if the thought never actually occurred to her. “Dating isn’t really my forte. Besides, I always thought you would’ve rejected me if I came on too strong.”
Ava mulls that over. In the not so distant past, she would’ve definitely scoffed derisively and replied with something hurtful. “You may have been right.” She raises a brow. “So you decided that sending anonymous nudes would be a better way to get my attention?”
“It might’ve been slightly … short-sighted on my part,” Sara admits. “And they weren’t nudes. They were tasteful pictures that showed off my athletic figure,” she defends with a slight huff.
Ava runs a hand down Sara’s arm, appreciating the feel of lean muscle beneath. “Your figure is very, very nice,” she agrees breathlessly.
“Mmm, tell me something,” Sara gasps out as Ava begins to kiss her her neck.
“Anything,” Ava murmurs, continuing to press her lips along Sara’s elegant neck.
“Did you touch yourself while looking at those pictures I sent you?”
“Yes,” Ava whispers in her ear. “I thought of you and how that bra matched your eyes. Your beautiful scars, your muscles. All of it. Even when I didn’t know who it was, I imagined that it was you.”
With immense effort, Sara pulls away. “Show me. Show me how you touch yourself.”
“You’re ready to go again?” Ava says in surprise, although she can’t find it in herself to complain.
“I’m always ready for you, babe.” Sara replies cockily. “But technically, you’re doing all the work and getting yourself off. I’m just watching.”
A voice interrupts them before Ava can reply to Sara calling her babe. “Pardon me, Captain, Director Sharpe. But I was asked to relay a message from Ms. Tomaz.”
Zari’s exasperated voice fills the room. “I’d like to get some sleep here, ladies. But since it seems like I’m not gonna anytime soon, I’m trying find out a way to soundproof the rooms. Have fun!”
The mood effectively ruined, Sara laughs, a joyous and carefree sound. Ava’s cheeks turn a bright pink but she smiles nonetheless.
All in all, Ava blesses Sara for being short-sighted. She wouldn’t change a single thing about Sara’s unconventional albeit effective plan to seduce her.
She’d have to thank Gary tomorrow. That is, if he shows up to work anytime soon.