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Andrea Sachs had promised herself she was not going to stare.
It was a simple lunch. A civilized lunch. Two grown women, both older now, both sharper around the edges in different ways, sitting across from each other in a little restaurant that charged too much for endive and knew it.
Emily Charlton looked devastating.
Not in the old Runway way, though some of that was still there, the posture, the cheekbones, the effortless ability to make a silk blouse look like a weapon. But there was something softer now too. Something more settled. Emily was still exacting, still dry enough to wither flowers, but she smiled more easily than Andrea remembered.
And Andrea, unfortunately, remembered everything.
Emily’s voice when she snapped, “I’m one stomach flu away from my goal weight.”
Emily’s hand, pale and elegant, flicking through schedules.
Emily’s laugh, rare enough to feel like being chosen.
Emily’s mouth, which Andrea had absolutely no business thinking about over lunch.
“So,” Emily said, setting down her glass of wine. “Do you ever think about Paris?”
Andrea’s fork paused halfway to her mouth.
Paris. Miranda. The fountain. The phone. The walk away.
“Sometimes,” Andy admitted. “Less than I used to.”
Emily hummed, studying her. “I called you, you know.”
Andrea stared. “Yeah I do. That’s why we’re sitting here. ”
“No, after you left Runaway, the first time.” Emily’s fingers traced the stem of her glass. “I called. Once. Maybe twice.”
Andy’s chest tightened. “You called?”
“You didn’t answer.”
“Why did you call?”
Emily’s expression shifted.
It was tiny. Almost nothing. But Andy had learned, a long time ago, to read impossible women in half-inches.
Emily swallowed. “I thought maybe.. I thought we could try and be pals.”
The words landed gently and cruelly all at once.
Andy let out a breath, soft and disbelieving. “You did?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I’m capable of having friends.”
“I know that.”
“I’m selective.”
“I’m very aware.”
Emily’s lips curved. “You were irritating. Clumsy. Overly earnest. You wore tragic shoes and asked questions with your entire face.”
Andy laughed under her breath.
“But you were also…” Emily hesitated, and for once she looked almost unguarded. “You were good. Not at the job, at first, God no. But good. You cared about things. People. Me, occasionally, when you weren’t busy ruining my schedule.”
Andy’s throat went tight.
Emily looked away, as though annoyed by her own honesty. “I thought perhaps we could’ve been something like friends. Eventually.”
Andy stared at her wine and felt twenty different versions of herself collide.
The old Andy, breathless and frantic in borrowed clothes.
The newer one, who had built a life from the rubble.
The one sitting here now, feeling dangerously young again because Emily Charlton was telling her she had wanted her.
“I didn’t want to be friends,” Andy said quietly.
Emily’s gaze snapped back to her.
Andy’s face heated instantly. “I mean—yes, I did. Obviously. I wanted you to like me. I wanted you to stop looking at me like I was a stain on the carpet.”
“I rarely look at stains that much.”
Andy huffed a nervous laugh. “But it wasn’t just that.”
Emily went very still.
Andy forced herself to keep going. “I-I had a crush on you.” She finally managed to stammer.
Emily’s eyebrows rose.
“A stupid one,” Andy added quickly. “A huge, embarrassing, completely inconvenient crush. It was silly.”
“On me.”
“Yes, Emily. On you.”
Emily leaned back slowly, eyes narrowing with interest. “How very fascinating.”
Andy groaned. “Don’t say it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
“Like a normal person.”
“I’m not a normal person.”
“No,” Andy said, and this time her voice softened. “You’re not.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
The air between them changed. Charged itself. Pulled tight.
Emily’s eyes dropped, briefly, deliberately, to Andy’s lips.
Andy felt it like a touch.
“Well,” Emily said, voice silky now, controlled in a way that made Andy’s stomach flip. “That does rather reframe things.”
Andy tried to laugh, but it came out shaky. “Does it?”
“Oh, Andrea.” Emily slowly smirked. “You have no idea.”
By the time they got to Andy’s apartment, Andy’s hands were trembling so badly she missed the lock twice.
Emily noticed.
Of course Emily noticed.
She stood behind Andy in the hallway, close enough that Andy could feel the warmth of her, close enough that Emily’s perfume wrapped around her like a command.
“Need help?” Emily murmured.
Andy swallowed. “I can open my own door.”
“Mmm. Not what I asked.”
The key finally slid in. Andy pushed the door open and stepped inside too fast, like distance might save her from the fact that Emily Charlton was in her apartment, taking off her coat with slow, elegant hands.
Andy turned around.
Emily was watching her.
Not smiling now. Not teasing.
Wanting.
It nearly took Andy’s knees out.
“Before anything happens,” Emily said, voice low but clear, “we talk.”
Andy nodded immediately. “Okay.”
“I like control,” Emily said. “I like teasing. I like making someone blush until they can barely speak.”
Andy’s face went hot on cue.
Emily’s mouth curved. “Yes. Like that.”
“Emily.”
“I also like consent,” Emily continued, stepping closer. “I like hearing yes. I like knowing what’s too much before I find it.”
Andy’s breathing had gone shallow. “Nothing too painful. Nothing scary. I just…” She looked down, embarrassed by how badly she wanted, by how quickly Emily had reduced her to honesty. “I don’t have a lot of experience with this.”
“With women?”
“With women. With… this.” Andy gestured helplessly between them. “Being wanted like that.”
Emily’s expression softened.
“Oh, darling.”
The word darling nearly finished Andy off by itself.
Emily came closer and brushed her knuckles under Andy’s chin, tilting her face up. “Then we go slowly.”
Andy nodded.
“And if I say something and you don’t like it, you tell me.”
“I will.”
“If I touch you and you need me to stop, you say red.”
Andy nodded again. “Red.”
“And yellow if you need a pause.”
“Yellow.”
“Good girl.”
Andy’s breath caught so sharply Emily noticed instantly.
Her eyes sharpened.
“Oh.”
Andy closed her eyes. “Don’t.”
Emily’s smile returned, wicked and delighted. “Andrea.”
“Emily, please.”
“You like that.”
Andy covered her face with both hands. “I’m going to die.”
“No, you’re not.” Emily caught her wrists gently and pulled her hands down. “You’re going to stand here and let me look at you while you blush.”
Andy made a helpless sound.
Emily’s gaze swept over her face, hungry and amused and almost fond. “Look at you. All this time, underneath all that moral fortitude, you were just waiting for someone to tell you you were good.”
Andy’s voice came out small. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?” Emily stepped closer until Andy’s back touched the wall. “Try again.”
Andy looked up at her.
Emily’s hand settled at Andy’s waist. Not grabbing. Not yet. Just there, possessive enough to make Andy’s body hum.
“Yes,” Andy whispered.
Emily’s eyes darkened. “There we are.” Then Emily kissed her.
It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t polite. Emily kissed her like she had made a decision and expected the world to rearrange itself accordingly. Her mouth was firm, warm, devastatingly precise, and Andy melted embarrassingly fast, hands flying to Emily’s shoulders like she needed help staying upright.
Emily hummed against her lips. “Needy already?”
Andy whimpered.
Emily pulled back just enough to see her face.
Andy looked horrified at herself.
Emily looked delighted.
“Oh, Andrea.” She kissed the corner of Andy’s mouth. “You are going to be so much fun.”
“Please don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you.” Emily’s hand slid to the back of Andy’s neck, fingers threading into her hair. “I’m enjoying you.”
Andy’s eyes fluttered.
“There’s a difference,” Emily murmured. “And you’re going to learn it.”
She kissed Andy again, slower this time, deeper. Andy opened for her with a soft little sound that made Emily’s grip tighten in her hair, not painful, just enough to make Andy feel held in place, wanted exactly where she was.
Emily broke the kiss and watched Andy chase after her mouth.
“My God,” Emily whispered. “You really are desperate.”
Andy flushed down her throat. “I’m sorry.”
Emily’s expression changed.
Her hand tightened at Andy’s waist. “Don’t apologize for wanting me.”
Andy blinked.
“Ever.” Emily’s voice dropped. “I have waited far too long to have you looking at me like this. You don’t get to feel ashamed of it now.”
Andy’s heart slammed against her ribs.
“Okay,” she breathed.
Emily smiled. “Good.”
Then she kissed Andy’s jaw, her throat, the sensitive place below her ear. Andy tipped her head back against the wall, trembling.
Emily’s mouth was everywhere and not enough. Her hands were controlled but possessive, mapping Andy’s body over her clothes, learning how she reacted. Andy tried to stay composed, tried to be adult and smooth and not completely undone five minutes into kissing, but Emily had a terrible gift for finding every weak spot.
A kiss beneath her jaw.
A thumb brushing the inside of her wrist.
A whispered, “That’s it, darling.”
Andy made a broken noise.
Emily went still.
Then she laughed softly against Andy’s neck. “Oh, that one too?”
Andy squeezed her eyes shut. “Stop noticing things.”
“Absolutely not.” Emily lifted her head, eyes bright. “It’s my new favorite hobby.”
“Emily.”
“You’re very responsive.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.” Emily’s thumb brushed Andy’s lower lip. “I think you’ve spent years trying to be clever and composed, and all I have to do is call you sweet and you look like you might fall apart.”
Andy’s voice shook. “That’s not fair.”
“No.” Emily kissed her once, soft and filthy with promise. “It’s useful.”
Andy groaned, and Emily smiled into it.
By the time they made it to the bedroom, Andy’s shirt was half unbuttoned and Emily’s lipstick was smudged at the corner of her mouth. Andy sat on the edge of the bed because Emily told her to, and the simple act of obeying made her pulse kick hard.
Emily noticed that too.
“You like being told what to do.”
Andy looked down.
Emily stepped between her knees and tipped her chin up. “Answer me.”
Andy’s mouth went dry. “Yes m’am.”
“Good girl.”
Andy shivered.
Emily’s eyes softened for a second, just enough to make the praise feel less like a game and more like something precious. “You’re doing beautifully.”
Andy’s expression crumpled with want.
Emily exhaled. “Oh, darling.”
She kissed her again, and this time Andy gave in completely. She clutched at Emily’s waist, pulling her closer, needy and unguarded. Emily let her for a moment, let Andy touch, let Andy kiss her messy and eager.
Then Emily caught both of Andy’s wrists and pressed them gently to the mattress on either side of her hips.
Andy froze, breath catching.
“Color?” Emily asked immediately.
Andy looked up at her, pupils wide. “Green.”
Emily’s smile was slow and satisfied. “Good.”
She leaned down, mouth close to Andy’s ear.
“Then keep them there.”
Andy’s whole body went hot.
Emily straightened and began unbuttoning her blouse with cruel patience.
Andy stared.
She couldn’t help it. Emily was all pale skin and sharp lines, elegant even like this, even while undressing in Andy’s bedroom like she belonged there.
Especially then.
“Close your mouth, Andrea,” Emily said dryly.
Andy did. Then immediately said, “Sorry.”
Emily arched a brow.
Andy corrected herself, flustered. “Not sorry.”
“Much better.”
Emily stepped closer again and slid Andy’s shirt from her shoulders. Her hands slowed as Andy’s skin appeared, her teasing expression giving way to something intent and reverent.
Andy’s nerves surged. “What?”
Emily’s fingers brushed her collarbone. “You’re beautiful.”
Andy looked away. “You don’t have to—”
Emily caught her chin, firmer this time. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
Andy’s lips parted.
Emily held her gaze. “You’re beautiful. And soft. And warm. And very, very easy to ruin.”
Andy’s breath hitched.
“There she is,” Emily murmured.
Andy laughed shakily. “You’re evil.”
“I’m thorough.”
Emily pushed her gently back onto the bed and followed, one knee between Andy’s thighs, hands braced on either side of her. The weight of her there—controlled, deliberate, in charge made Andy feel dizzy.
Emily kissed her sternly, then tenderly, then with enough heat that Andy arched up without thinking.
Emily pressed her back down.
“Greedy.”
Andy whined.
“You can have what you want,” Emily said, mouth brushing Andy’s. “But you’re going to ask nicely.”
Andy’s fingers twisted in the sheets.
Emily’s gaze flicked down. “Still keeping your hands where I put them. Very good.”
Andy’s eyes fluttered shut.
Emily smiled against her cheek. “There it is again. You really do melt when I praise you.”
Andy whispered, “Please.”
“Please what?”
Andy squirmed beneath her. “Please touch me.”
“I am touching you.”
“Emily.”
Emily kissed down Andy’s throat. “Use your words.”
Andy’s voice went thin with embarrassment and want. “Please touch me more.”
Emily rewarded her immediately, hand sliding down Andy’s side, over her hip, slow and possessive. Andy gasped.
“That’s better,” Emily murmured. “See? You can be good when you try.”
Andy made a sound that was half laugh, half whimper.
Emily took her time.
That was the worst part.
The best part.
She was unhurried and merciless, learning Andy piece by piece, coaxing reactions from her with mouth and hands and words. She praised Andy when she stayed still. Teased her when she couldn’t. Kissed her when the teasing got too sharp. Checked in with soft murmurs, with a hand smoothing over Andy’s hair, with a quiet, “Still green?”
And every time, Andy answered.
Green.
Green.
God, yes, green.
When Andy finally broke and reached for her, Emily caught her wrists again and pinned them lightly above her head.
Andy stared up at her, wrecked.
Emily’s voice went low. “I told you to keep your hands still.”
“I’m sorry.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
Andy swallowed. “I mean—”
“Are you sorry?” Emily asked. “Or are you just impatient?”
Andy’s face burned. “Impatient.”
“Honesty.” Emily kissed her. “Good girl.”
Andy whimpered openly this time, and Emily’s composure cracked for half a second, her breath catching like Andy had surprised her.
Then Emily’s mouth was on her again, hotter, less controlled.
“You like being wanted, don’t you?” Emily whispered. “Like knowing I’m watching every little reaction. Like knowing I know exactly what you need.”
Andy nodded helplessly.
“Say it.”
“I like it.”
Emily’s hand slid into Andy’s hair again, holding her still. “Say you like being mine right now.”
Andy’s whole body went still.
Emily paused immediately. “Too much?”
Andy shook her head quickly. “No.”
“Color?”
“Green.” Andy’s voice trembled. “Very green.”
Emily’s expression softened, but her voice stayed deliciously firm. “Then say it.”
Andy looked up at her, undone and flushed and aching with the vulnerability of it.
“I like being yours right now.”
Emily’s eyes darkened.
“Again.”
Andy whispered it again.
Emily kissed her like she had been waiting years to hear it.
After that, everything became warmth and breath and Emily’s voice in her ear.
Praise, sharp and sweet.
“That’s it.”
“So good for me.”
“Look at you, Andrea.”
“My sweet, needy girl.”
Andy lost track of time. Lost track of embarrassment. Lost track of everything but Emily’s hands, Emily’s mouth, Emily’s voice guiding her through it, teasing her right up to the edge and then gentling her when it became too much.
And when Andy finally fell apart, she did it with Emily’s name in her mouth and Emily’s arms around her.
Not alone.
Not ashamed.
Held.
For a while afterward, there was only quiet.
Emily lay beside her, propped on one elbow, fingers tracing slow patterns over Andy’s bare shoulder. Her face was softer than Andy had ever seen it.
Andy, still catching her breath, covered her face with one hand. “I cannot believe I just did half of that.”
Emily’s lips twitched. “Half?”
Andy groaned. “Don’t.”
“I distinctly recall you begging.”
Andy made a mortified noise into her palm.
Emily gently pulled her hand away. “Andrea.”
Andy looked at her.
Emily’s teasing faded. “Was that all right?”
Andy’s heart squeezed.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Words.”
Andy smiled, shy and dazed. “Yes. It was more than all right.”
Emily studied her carefully. “You’re sure?”
Andy reached up and brushed her thumb over Emily’s cheek, catching a tiny smudge of mascara beneath one eye. “I’m sure.”
Emily turned her face into Andy’s palm, almost too quickly to pretend it meant nothing.
Andy saw it.
For once, she didn’t tease.
“You called me,” Andy said softly.
Emily’s eyes flicked back to hers.
“Back then.” Andy swallowed. “You really wanted to be friends?”
Emily was quiet for a moment.
“Yes.”
Andy smiled faintly. “I would’ve said yes.”
Emily’s expression shifted.
Something regretful. Something tender.
Andy moved closer under the sheets, resting her forehead against Emily’s. “And then I would’ve been horribly obvious about wanting more.”
Emily laughed softly. “Yes, I imagine you would have been unbearable.”
“Probably.”
“Blushing every time I said your name.”
“Definitely.”
“Staring at my mouth.”
Andy closed her eyes. “I’m doing that now, aren’t I?”
“Yes.”
“Damn it.”
Emily kissed her, soft and lingering.
When she pulled back, she looked almost shy, which felt impossible.
“Well,” Emily murmured, “I suppose we’re starting late.”
Andy smiled against her mouth. “Maybe we’re starting now.”
Emily’s hand slid to Andy’s waist, possessive but gentle.
“Yes,” she said. “Now sounds good.”
Andy curled into her, still warm, still trembling a little, still stunned by the fact that Emily Charlton was in her bed, touching her like she was something wanted and precious and slightly ridiculous.
Emily kissed her forehead.
“Rest,” she ordered softly.
Andy smiled, eyes closing.
“Yes, Emily.”
A pause.
Then Emily’s voice, amused and pleased:
“Good girl.”
Andy buried her burning face in Emily’s shoulder.
Emily laughed quietly and held her closer.