Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Greta knew that her therapist’s ‘gentle’ nudging to go on vacation served as more of a command than a suggestion, so it was difficult to feel like it was actually for leisure versus homework. For someone who outwardly radiated spontaneity and fun, prioritizing her happiness was a trickier challenge than throwing herself into some sort of measurable task; a competition to win, a game to succeed at, an object of her affection to seduce…these things could be assessed. At the end of the day, if she did a good job she could confidently assure herself of as much, but ‘having fun’ and ‘relaxing’ felt less natural than sticking to a script. Less sure, less safe, both things she preferred to feel wholeheartedly to the point of overestimating how much other people cared to protect her. She knew she could gain control by pretending she didn’t have any, and she’d rather be seen as wild and free than the scared, hurt version of herself she kept tucked away in the corner of her heart.

At home in California, the person she trusted the most was her best friend Jo. She didn’t want to compromise their relationship or complicate anything through some sort of misplaced romantic projection; she knew it would never work between them, anyway. If a date ended with Greta stranded at some bar, Jo always picked her up. When things imploded with the person Greta used to see as the love of her life, Jo was there to remind her she deserved so much better. When she slipped into old, bad habits, Jo was patient almost to a fault. It wasn’t a perfect friendship, of course, but it was all Greta had to keep her from completely rending apart.

Her therapist had suggested the picturesque cottage by the sea in Martha’s Vineyard she ended up booking for her trip, pointedly stating that she was certain Greta would ‘feel at home’ there despite never visiting before. Upon retrieving her key from a young woman in the main office, she semi-bashfully attempted to grab all three of her bags at once without asking for assistance. She wouldn’t do the same thing if some slobbering man was busting a blood vessel to impress her with his help, but the little receptionist didn’t deserve the challenge of carrying her overpacked luggage.

“Whoa, let me help with those!” a voice called from behind a closed door. Greta looked around, the receptionist offering her a shrug.

“She must have seen you on the camera,” she explained, giggling a bit as she looked Greta over.

“Oh, of course,” Greta said, setting her bags back down as a brunette in a baseball cap burst through the door and rushed over from behind the desk. “Sorry for spying on you, I just looked up and saw the monitor-"

“I don’t mind,” Greta smiled, quirking an eyebrow as she took in the shorter woman before her. “Spy on me all you want, that’s why I wore such a great outfit.”

“It is great,” the woman blurted. “Sorry, um, let me take some of those bags for you. I’m Carson Shaw, by the way. I manage the Peaches Cottage Resort, so I’m here for anything you need from fresh towels to rentals for watersports.” Carson tipped her baseball cap and immediately flushed, pretending to fix a strand of her hair instead.

“Towels and watersports, hm? Sounds like a fun time,” Greta joked. “I’m Greta Gill, but you can call me what you like.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the obviously flustered but eager woman, her tongue skimming her teeth before peeking from the corner of her lips. It was a silly habit, or maybe a subconscious flirtation, but she noticed Carson’s eyes dart to her mouth nonetheless. “Here, sorry if they’re heavy,” Greta apologized as she remembered what they were doing, passing Carson two of the bags which she handled easily.

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to travel lightly,” Carson said, taking her time as she looked her new guest up and down rather conspicuously. Greta was glad she opted for a midriff-baring top, considering the way Carson’s eyes dragged across the sliver of visible skin.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Ms. Shaw?” Greta asked, unable to keep the playful lilt out of her voice.

Carson cleared her throat, shaking her head.

“I apologize, I don’t know what’s gotten into me today,” She excused hastily.

“I don’t see anything wrong with making your guests feel welcome, it’s good business practice,” Greta shrugged breezily, walking alongside Carson toward her cottage.

“I guess that’s true,” Carson agreed, but Greta could tell she was still a bit thrown.

As they walked, they passed a group of women who all seemed dressed for different occasions. One in overalls, another in a sundress, and a third in slacks and a button up. Greta’s eyes lingered on the group, and the overall-wearer tossed her a wink.

Oh.

“Hey, Ms. Shaw,” Greta began, a smirk in her voice. “I don’t know much about this place, it was recommended by…a friend of mine,” she phrased delicately.

As she spoke, another resort guest came into view smoking on her porch, a beer in her free hand and a pretty blonde at her side. In terms of her assigned goals for the trip, she still hadn’t decided if she actually wanted to pursue them. She wasn’t supposed to be so ‘available’ and flippant with sharing affection, first of all, which sounded easy enough before everything clicked.

“Ah, so you didn’t know it’s, uh, you know,” Carson motioned vaguely around, still holding Greta’s luggage.

“Ladies only…?” Greta asked innocently, just to make Carson blush again as she tried to explain. God, she was cute, and her raspy voice was diabolically charming.

“Well, more like, um,” Carson stumbled over her words, stopping in front of Greta’s cottage door. “Listen, if you’re uncomfortable-“

“Oh, god, no! I’m just messing around, I’d never be mad that this place is crawling with lesbians,” Greta said, satisfied to see a combination of bashfulness and relief on Carson’s face.

“You had me for a second, I got scared,” Carson admitted. “We’ve had people make that mistake before, ‘girls trip’ gone wrong type of scenarios…”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me. Now I know why my friend said I would love it so much.” Greta grinned as she unlocked the cottage door, setting her bag in the entryway before letting Carson past her with the others. Carson raised her eyebrows, a bit of mischief in her smile now.

“Are you… trying to meet, uh, some new friends? There’s always a group of us at the bar on the property on Friday nights, I think some gals are heading over already,” Carson pitched, trying to sound nonchalant but obviously hopeful. “People hang out there most nights regardless, but we like to pretend it’s structured.”

“Will you be there?” Greta asked directly, a hand on her hip.

“I usually try to attend, yes,” Carson said, clearly waffling between staying any amount of professional and fully hitting on her new guest. Greta was flattered; she was used to pursuing, or pretending to be pursued while pulling the strings on her own, and it was nice to have someone give her attention without her planning for it.  

“If you wait a couple of minutes, you can escort me there,” Greta said matter-of-factly. Carson swallowed, nodding quickly. 

“Do you need help bringing the bags to your bedroom?”

“Trying to get in my bed already? I might have to report you,” Greta giggled.

“You seem like trouble,” Carson observed, her gaze stuck on the taller woman’s face.

“I might be,” Greta teased, biting her bottom lip just for a moment before picking up one of her bags. “I’m just going to change really quickly, dress or skirt?”

“Oh, whatever you want-“ Carson stammered, shrugging and looking around the room. 

“I want you to pick,” Greta said simply. It was a little test, or maybe an offering.

“Oh, uh, in that case… a dress?” Carson mumbled, flustered but still taking Greta’s bait.

“Perfect,” Greta called, already on her way to the bedroom. 

“I’ll just wait outside, take your time,” Carson called in response, and Greta heard the front door close. 

With a sigh, Greta opened her suitcase and pawed through her meticulously packed outfit options. She had some fancier pieces in case the right occasion arose, but a relaxed bar gathering seemed more suited for a casual (in her eyes) look. She settled on a simple A-line dress, black with red floral details and a nice, deep V of a neckline. Kitten heels would be fine to walk a short distance in, and her signature red lipstick just needed a fresh application. After spraying on some perfume and double-checking her hair in the mirror, she grabbed her purse and went to meet Carson outside.

“What do you think?” Greta asked with an easy twirl, enjoying Carson’s delayed reaction.

“Really nice. Dress, uh your dress is really nice. It was a good choice,” Carson nodded enthusiastically.

“Thanks for helping me pick,” Greta smiled, holding out her elbow. Carson looked confused for a moment, hesitating.

“You’re escorting me, right? Plus, I’m wearing heels and I don’t want to trip,” Greta said, pleased as Carson took her arm and began leading the way to the bar.

“You’re, like, very confident. Do people tell you that a lot?” Carson seemed to have a hard time looking at Greta, which only made her crave her attention more. 

“Mm, I guess sometimes, but most of the time they just think I’m intimidating, bitchy, you know,” Greta waved her free hand dismissively. “I like to think I’m just…efficient. And direct.”

“I see,” Carson nodded. “Well, I think those are great qualities. You wear them well.”

You’re also neurotic, and a control freak, and contradictorily easily-attached and flighty at once…

“Oh, stop it,” Greta beamed, like she could kill her internal monologue with a smile. “You haven’t even gotten me a drink yet!”

“Now I’m getting you a drink?” Carson asked, amused.

“Do you want to?” Greta countered.

“Well, I was going to offer, so…yes?”

“See, told you I’m efficient!” Greta congratulated herself.

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence, Greta acutely aware of Carson’s strong yet tender hold on her arm. She liked how she didn’t seem to shy away just because Greta was tall, or generally a lot , and it quieted her anxiety about her trip enough to focus on the night ahead. She felt a little pathetic for being so scared initially, but everything leading up to the decision to escape for awhile had left her on edge, like something was going to leap out from her periphery and ruin any progress she made.

“Hey, Shaw’s here!” someone announced the moment the pair stepped into the bar. 

“Ooh, do you prefer ‘Shaw’ without the ‘Ms.’?” Greta leaned to ask. She snuck a closer look at Carson’s left hand, too, and she didn’t spot a ring.

“I don’t mind it, or you can call me Carson, whatever really,” she responded, letting go of Greta’s arm and taking off her hat to smooth her hair before putting it back on. 

“Who’s the pretty lady?” another woman called from a high stool, and Greta recognized her as the one who winked at her before.

“I’m Greta Gill, I’m staying in 333,” Greta sauntered over, reaching out her hand. She wasn’t all that surprised as the curly-haired, masculine woman took her hand and placed a gentle kiss above her knuckles.

“Pleasure to meet you, I had to say ‘hi’ before Shaw got the chance to sink her teeth into you,” she teased. “I’m Lupe.”

“Aw, sink her teeth in? Is she a biter? Cute,” Greta said, squeezing Lupe’s hand before looking over her shoulder at Carson. “I’m ready for my drink, Shaw .”

“Oh, right, sorry,” Carson stepped up to the bar, back at Greta’s side. “What’s your order?”

“Wanna guess?” Greta asked, head cocked to the left.

“Well, all the red you’re wearing makes me think of cherries, but you also seem like a bit of a wild card…like someone would assume you like sweet and fruity, but you actually like dirty martinis and bourbon.” Carson seemed less frantic as she spoke now, like she just needed to warm up a little. 

“That’s pretty astute, I’ll give you that,” Greta complimented, genuinely impressed. “I don’t mind wine, either,” she added. “Goes better with a nice dinner, though.”

“Subtle,” Carson laughed, ordering a martini for Greta and a beer for herself. Someone called Lupe’s name from the other end of the bar, inviting her to dance, and she hopped up quickly to join in.

“So, how rowdy do these things usually get?” Greta asked, turning to look around the rest of the bar. It was one of the most comforting feelings to only see people she knew were like her, not needing to second-guess if she could relate to them. All too often, she felt entirely alone in full rooms, even in LA. 

“I don’t know if ‘rowdy’s the word I’d use, but it can definitely be a little…spicy?” Carson explained. 

“Spicy, wow, I love it,” Greta said, another grin across her lips.

“I mean, the whole reason this place exists is so people like us can have somewhere to do what we actually want, whatever that is,” Carson explained, her expression suddenly more serious.

“Do a lot of guests not usually do what they want?” Greta asked, earnest. She felt like people who knew her in passing would say she did what she wanted to the point of destruction, but she was questioning everything lately. How could anything be what she wanted if she had to run it by Jo or her therapist for approval? She couldn’t think of the last time she acted without being coached or reprimanded, whether that part came before or after the fact.

“I don’t even do what I want,” Carson’s words seemed to bubble out unexpectedly, a little scoff escaping her lips. “Sorry, I just…I love this place, I don’t know what I’d do without it.”

“I feel like you mean something by that, but…you don’t want to talk about it?” Greta tested.

“Is it okay if we don’t?” Carson asked, and Greta put a mental question mark in the new Carson file in her brain—something to follow up on later. In the meantime, though, Greta threw her hands up in cheerful surrender.

“You’re the boss, I’ll follow your rules. Promise,” she confirmed. 

“It’s only fair if I follow yours, too,” Carson nudged Greta’s shoulder, softening again. “Whatcha got?”

“Hmm,” Greta hummed, twirling her martini stirrer between her fingers. “I feel like part of the reason I’m here is to forget my rules for a while, honestly.”

“That’s mysterious,” Carson responded, resting her elbow on the bar and looking up at Greta. “You got a lady back home or something?”

“No, definitely not, just some other…stuff,” Greta answered vaguely, taking a long sip of her drink.

“Me, too,” Carson said, shrugging. “But I like the stuff here a lot better.”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite?” Greta asked, her smile brightening again. “You don’t have to say me, I’ll work for that honor.”

“Well, you’re, um, a really promising contender,” Carson said, looking off to the side. 

“That’s sweet. I think I’m going to like you a lot, too,” Greta said honestly, patting Carson’s knee for a second. Her fingers lingered, and she noticed Carson staring. “How long have you been managing this place?” She asked, picking her drink up again so she had something else to do with her hand. 

“Not that long, honestly, but I worked here for a year before. Timing kind of worked out so I had more free time and we needed a new manager, so it just seemed like a no-brainer to step up,” Carson said, her answer vague enough that Greta tried to picture what someone like Carson would be doing besides managing a lesbian getaway destination.

“And do you flirt with every girl who checks in, or are you just abusing your authority with me?” Greta added. 

God, my therapist is not going to be pleased with my behavior at all.

“Mostly just you,” Carson admitted, laughing and shaking her head. “I swear, the moment I saw you I forgot I was at work for a second.”

“Mm, and I forgot I was nervous about this vacation,” Greta admitted, sipping her drink again. “It’s pretty nice showing up somewhere and getting welcomed like a shiny new toy.”

“I didn’t want to make you feel objectified or anything—“

“Don’t worry, cutie, I mean it in a good way. It’s refreshing.” 

Greta finished her drink and popped the olive into her mouth, grinning as she watched Carson’s brain lag for a moment.

“You’re thinking too hard, I promise I would tell you if I wasn’t happy with your customer service,” she added, compelled to keep pushing, to see if Carson could keep up.

“You’ve got to stop making me sound like a perv,” Carson joked, shaking her head. 

“What if I like it?” It was hard for Greta to stop herself when she was on a roll like this; flirting felt like a game a lot of the time, and she was an Olympic qualifying player. 

“Then, um, I…” Carson faltered, dodging Greta’s gaze and waving somewhere in the direction of the small crowd of dancing patrons. “Sorry, I think I should go say hi to everyone, you know, being the manager and all.”

“Sure, of course,” Greta said, ignoring the tiny pang of doubt in her gut as much as she could. Carson was a little into her, right? She must just be nervous, or any other justification Greta could come up with in the next few seconds to calm herself and recalibrate her mood. 

Things are allowed to be good, things are allowed to be fun, things are allowed to be uncertain. Don’t ruin it before it’s anything, you just got here.

“Excuse me,” Greta said, twinkling her fingers at the handsome bartender. “Could I get a shot? I’ll pay for my own,” she assured, reaching into her purse. “Whiskey, please.”

“Don’t worry, I’m positive Shaw’s got you covered,” the woman assured. “Not to overshare her business or anything, but I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“Ooh, are you two close? Wanna tell me what kind of girls she usually goes for?” Greta put her chin in her hands, like she was ready to hear a bedtime story.

“You’re sneaky,” the woman laughed, pouring Greta’s shot to the brim and sliding her the glass before pouring a smaller one for herself. “I’m Jess, welcome to the Peaches Resort,” she said cheekily, holding her own glass up in a toast.

Greta raised her glass and before tossing her shot back, grateful for the quick warmth that followed. 

“As far as Shaw’s taste,” Jess answered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, “I don’t think any of us could really nail it down before, but it sort of makes sense she’d set her sights on you. I’m not sure who wouldn’t.”

Greta found herself blushing now, busying herself with checking her nails.

“Thanks for telling me that, this has been one of the craziest hours of my life…I’m just glad to know it’s real,” Greta giggled, glancing over at Carson chatting with her friends. “Do you like bartending here?”

“Oh, it’s a good time. Everyone who works here is great, mostly, and the ones who stay here are, too.” 

“Mostly? That’s cryptic,” Greta said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the nearly perpetual playfulness from her voice. 

Nobody can take you seriously when you’re constantly acting like a fucking caricature of yourself.

“I mean…it’s a bunch of lesbians spending every day together, everything can’t always be-“ Jess continued, shaking Greta from her bitchy self-critique.

“Peachy?” Greta offered with a knowing smirk, reaching into her purse. “I’m sure I’ll be back to chat more, but where would a lady go to have a smoke?” 

Once outside, Greta perched on the edge of a wrought-iron bench and pulled out a cigarette.

“Hey, need a light?” 

Greta looked up, smiling immediately. Maybe she just needed to stay in conversations, stay around people, so her mind wouldn’t drift so easily to tearing herself down from the inside. 

“Just in time,” the redhead responded, cigarette poised between her fingers as Carson lit it swiftly. “Such a gentleman,” she joked, slipping back into the version of herself that was easiest to occupy.

“Sorry I ran away earlier, I just got overwhelmed,” Carson said, holding out a vodka soda with a sheepish smile. “Figured you needed another drink, no pressure or anything.”

Greta blinked up at Carson, unable to believe she only met her today. Each time she glanced at her, she noticed a new feature she liked and every time she spoke she thought of a million things she’d like to hear her say.

“Thank you, I did have a shot with Jess, too," Greta said, accepting the drink graciously. "Just to be transparent about your tab…” 

“Don’t worry about that, she told me. I agree that I wouldn’t have let you pay,” Carson said, just the tiniest bit smug.

Greta found her heart beating faster as she continued looking up at Carson, enjoying the change in angle. She really was easy to look at, cute and pretty and handsome at once, her voice so delectable and her smile prepossessing. She took a drag of her cigarette, not necessarily unaware of the way Carson was watching her.

“You can take a picture if you want, you know,” Greta said softly, earnest.

“Hm? You want to model for me?” Carson smirked, clearly feeling a bit bolder than earlier. “I bet it’s not your first time.” 

“Who, me? But I’m so innocent,” Greta simpered with exaggeration, adjusting her posture and pouting her lips.

Carson nearly dropped her phone trying to take it out of her pocket, Greta holding her pose and trying not to laugh. Such a silly line, but it was pretty telling that Carson actually took her up on it.

“Give it to me, baby, yes! This is money!” Carson smarmed, Greta setting her drink on the nearby garden table to avoid spilling it as she laughed at the theatrical display.

“What voice is that?” Greta asked, flicking her cigarette with a bemused sigh.

“It’s like…overenthusiastic old-timey Hollywood uh…New York photographer?”

“Hollywood, New York? I love it there!”

Carson dissolved into laughter as well, their voices chiming into the peaceful air. 

“I’m glad I won’t forget tonight,” Greta said sincerely, taking another drag. “I think this is the first time I’ve been even partially relaxed in years…you have to send me the photos, though. So I can check if you were pointing at my chest.”

“Hey! It’s just a height thing and, like, an angle thing, and I’ve been drinking-“

Greta leaned back slightly, her tongue slipping across her lips in the accidentally tempting way it did.

“Why do you think I picked this dress?” Greta asked slowly, a brow tactfully quirked.

“Because I said pick a dress?”

“No, dummy, I picked it because I saw you looking already and I wanted to show you some more,” Greta teased, eyes on her target. 

Now Carson was silent, suddenly fidgeting.

“I’m really sorry again for being weird before, I just feel like a creep.”

Great, you’re being too much and it’s making her feel bad. Amazing job.

“If you don’t stop apologizing for thinking I’m hot, I’m going to cry,” Greta stated, shrugging a shoulder. “I get it, you’re respectful and don’t want to be a predator or whatever, but I’m purposely trying to get your attention and I like when you give it to me.”

“So…?”

Greta sipped her drink and set it down, the chilly condensation on the glass contrasting starkly with the heat rising in her chest. She reminded herself that if Carson truly did feel like a creep or didn’t want to keep up this back and forth, she wouldn’t still be standing there.

“So, keep giving it to me.”

Chapter Text

Carson reached up to turn her hat around, then her fingers drifted to place Greta’s cigarette in the nearest ashtray. 

“The things I’m thinking about right now aren’t appropriate, Greta.” Carson laced her fingers with Greta’s, stepping closer to her.

“Then we have something in common, don’t we?” Greta shivered slightly, her nerves simultaneously alight. 

“What are you thinking, beautiful?” Carson's voice was huskier than before.

“About you kissing me,” Greta answered honestly, her brain finally quiet save for that.

It happened so quickly, Carson pulling her up by the hand and pressing her against the bricks enshrouding the bar. When Carson’s free hand gripped Greta’s waist, the other raising beside her head and pushing her knuckles against the wall, Greta nearly crumpled at the knees.

“I’ve never met somebody like you,” Carson whispered, her lips testing a kiss at Greta’s throat.

Greta swallowed, her heart thudding as Carson kissed her taut skin again right near her pulse. When their lips finally met, Greta immediately accepted Carson’s tongue, squeezing her hand and reaching her free one between her suitor’s shoulders to pull her tighter to her body. Carson was hungry and hurried, like she needed to prove something, and Greta offered all the supportive evidence she could. It was like a dream sequence, the mildly warm, still air and glow of the bar signs lending themselves to a beautiful even if just-left-of-center atmosphere. 

“You’re so soft,” Carson murmured, licking across Greta’s bottom lip before pulling back despite keeping her hand pinned against the wall. “And sweet.”

Greta caught her breath, unable to formulate a response and buzzing from head to toe. 

“You’re so…surreal,” Greta breathed. 

“Want to finish your drink back inside?” Carson asked, slowly releasing her hand and stroking the curve of Greta’s waist.

She nodded wordlessly in response, knowing if she went any further right now she might embarrass herself. Kissing was safe, kissing was allowed…but the rules weren’t supposed to matter that much, were they? It wasn’t like she’d been following them so far, anyway. 

“I have lipstick on me, don’t I?” 

“Yes, here,” Greta said, cupping Carson’s face in both hands and swiping at the smudges of her own lipstick with her thumbs. “All better, I’m sure nobody will be able to tell,” she added, sultry and just a bit giddy at once. 

When they made it back inside the bar, a few more people had arrived and the dancing had picked up. Greta felt like she was on a cloud, one of the fluffy, cartoonish sort that she could hop across with little hearts following each step. That feeling would usually make her self-conscious, or scared, but as Carson led her to a table near the dance floor all she felt was that schoolgirl type of excitement of a crush actually liking her back. The cruel little voice that was bothering her all day finally shut up for longer than a minute, and she felt hopeful.

“There you are, Shaw! Get your ass over here!” One of the dancing patrons shouted, and Carson looked conflicted about leaving Greta by herself. 

“Go, I’ll come join you in a minute,” Greta said. “Don’t want your friends thinking you’re into me or something, hm?”

Carson almost leaned in for a peck, at least it seemed that way to Greta, then she changed her mind and opted for a squeeze to her shoulder. She joined the group after turning her hat back around, and Greta tried not to replay their kisses in her head as she watched her dance around.

“Do you not like dancing?” 

Greta was pulled from her trance, yet another gorgeous woman appearing before her. It felt like some kind of lesbian fantasy land, all these nice, hot, mostly masculine women chatting her up…maybe Lupe was right in commending Carson for making a move before someone else could. 

“I was just working on my drink, been a little distracted,” Greta admitted, taking a pointed sip.

“Well, when you finish I’d love to see you out there,” the woman said kindly. 

“Sure thing, doll,” Greta said, with a nod and a smile. She downed the rest of her drink quickly, figuring she’d taken long enough, and made her way toward the dance floor. 

“Hey, Red!” Lupe called, beckoning her over. Carson was with her group, as well as a few of the more feminine ladies she’d seen around.

“Did you forget my name already?” Greta teased, beginning to sway to the song playing. 

“Nope, you just looked like you needed a nickname,” Lupe grinned.

Carson caught Greta’s eyes before trailing her eyes down her body, like she was remembering her own hands on her, and the territorial undertone of such a small act made Greta tingle for a moment. God, it was even hotter knowing they weren’t trying to broadcast their brand new connection, and that Carson was barely able to be discreet anyway. 

“Do you have a nickname, Lupe?” Greta asked, purposely dancing closer to her so she could give Carson a show. She couldn’t help her habit of playing like this, giving a little bit away and then pulling back, diverting, circling around again when she felt like it…she didn’t mean it seriously, it just affirmed her sense of control. 

“A lot of people call me Lu, but I’d change it for you,” Lupe said, brazen.

“Aw, aren’t you sweet?” Greta lilted.

Carson placed a sly, out-of-sight hand at the small of Greta’s back, gently stroking there. 

“Hey, I don’t think we’ve met yet, I’m Maybelle,” a darling blonde greeted, temporarily distracting Greta from Carson’s secret touch.

“I’m Greta, it’s nice to meet you,” she spoke over the music. “Is everyone here just extremely good looking, or do I have a sign on my forehead summoning beautiful women?”

“Oh, don’t make me blush!” Maybelle giggled, holding a hand to her cheek. “That’s a good question, though…Carson, have you only been letting gorgeous girls stay at the resort?”

“Pshh, no, lesbians just look the best out of anyone,” Carson joked, her hand sliding down past Greta’s lower back and giving a light squeeze. Greta almost let out a squeak, not expecting to be felt up so nicely, but she just smiled. 

“No kidding,” Lupe chimed in, still looking at Greta like she might want to eat her. The redhead returned a coy look, nearly overwhelmed by all the flattery.

If she wasn’t living it, this moment would definitely read as some kind of intro to an X-rated film.  She loved attention, yes, but it was definitely new to have so much at once from the exact types of people she wanted it from. As the song changed to a more mellow tempo, Greta decided to see if Carson was truly the jealous type. She figured it would be better to find out early on, especially with how forward the other women were about finding her attractive.

Yeah, it’s a great idea to act like a reckless slut in order to show that you like somebody you just met. That makes sense.

“Lupe,” Greta turned, Carson’s hand falling away from her as she shifted to face the handsome woman. “Do you want to dance?”

“Of course,” Lupe agreed, grinning as Greta stepped close and slipped her arms around her neck. 

She could practically feel Carson’s eyes on her back, and it would be a lie if she said she wasn’t moving with her gaze in mind. Lupe gripped her waist with confidence, pulling her even tighter against her as they swayed, foreheads nearly touching. 

“Your lipstick’s smudged,” Lupe pointed out, raising an eyebrow. “Been having some fun already?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Greta taunted quietly, like she didn’t want to be overheard. 

“Mm, depends,” Lupe said, blasé.

“On what?”

“If it gets you hot to kiss and tell.” Lupe held a steady gaze, daring Greta to share.

Greta felt her face flush and her bottom lip ended up between her teeth; how was this woman so smooth? 

“Is it that obvious?” she conceded.

“What, that you like to show off and get ladies thinking about you? Yeah, look at you,” Lupe laughed, still holding her waist. 

“Well,” Greta said, trying to keep up with Lupe’s smooth-tongued flirting, “can you guess who it was?”

“Shaw, obviously. She looks like she wants to kill me right now,” Lupe said, chuckling as she moved her hands to Greta’s hips. 

“Really?” Greta asked, trying not to sound too excited and resisting the urge to turn around. 

“Mhmm, she’s staring at your ass, too.”

Greta was taken aback by how much she actually cared to hear that.

“You should be more mindful with your hands, then,” she warned playfully.

“Aw, you don’t want me touching you all over?” Lupe didn’t flinch, and her lack of hesitation was disarming. 

“You’re quite a scamp, aren’t you?” 

“I just like having fun,” Lupe murmured, drumming her fingertips against Greta’s hips.

“Well, I like fun, too,” Greta murmured. 

“Now you should be careful, because I have a good imagination…”

“I thought you’d want to hear what really happened…?” Greta defended.

“Of course I do, but I can’t help it if my mind runs away with whatever you say.”

Greta took a breath, feeling in control again. She held the hot tidbit of gossip, she held Carson’s gaze…she wasn’t in a bad position at all. 

“Well, we were outside, and she yanked me up from the chair I was sitting in,” she began, nearly shivering as she replayed the scene for the millionth time in her mind. “She pushed me against the wall, pinned my wrist…”

Greta moved one hand to stroke a finger down Lupe’s neck.

“Then she kissed me here,” she cupped Lupe’s chin now, enjoying her speechlessness as she swiped her thumb across her jaw, then her lips. “And here.”

“Damn, Red,” Lupe relented, nodding. “You’ve got a way with words.”

“Carson is very… inspiring, I suppose.”

“You’d better get back to her before she breaks my arm,” Lupe dropped her hands, grinning. “Thanks for the dance, beautiful.”

“You, too,” Greta grinned, pecking Lupe’s cheek before turning around. 

Carson was still nearby, vaguely pretending to dance but perking up as Greta smiled at her and shimmered her fingers in a wave.

“You were watching me, huh?” Greta asked, not quite smug but certainly pleased with herself.

“What? I, no, well, you can do whatever you want, I was just, like, standing over here by some chance…” Carson rambled, scoffing several times and shrugging quite a bit for such a short statement.

“I know I can do what I want,” Greta said, amused. “But you’re really bad at lying.”

“I’m not lying! I didn’t even, um, notice you were dancing with her.”

Greta pouted, folding her own arms to match Carson’s pose.

“So you weren’t jealous?”

Carson raised her eyebrows, and Greta felt another piece of the game she was playing by herself fall into place. 

“You wanted me to be?” 

“A little, at least,” Greta said honestly, her expression posing a challenge.

With a laugh, Carson unfolded her arms and shook her head.

“I didn’t realize seeing her hands on you like that would piss me off as much as it did,” she admitted. “I’m usually more…chill.”

“If it makes you feel better, I was talking about you the whole time.”

“Oh, saying what?” Carson asked, pleasantly eager.

“That you’re a good kisser, or something like that,” Greta shared, suddenly bashful. “She wanted to hear all about it… Lupe’s kinda naughty, huh?”

“You’re something else, do you know that?” 

“Still wanna try to figure me out?” Greta asked, trying not to show how invested she already was in Carson’s answer. 

Carson smiled, reaching for one of Greta’s hands to give it a squeeze and stroke a thumb across her skin. For that tiny moment, it felt like nobody else was in the bar. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been this excited to meet someone new, I’d be an idiot to let you out of my sight.”

“And will you be mad if everyone keeps flirting with me?” Greta continued her interrogation, lest she give away how flattered she was. 

“Psh, no, that’s just something you sign up for when you’re chasing a certified hottie,” Carson said confidently. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to myself when I can have you.”

“ Have me? Ooh,” Greta murmured, reaching to twirl an untucked strand of Carson’s hair. “I like the sound of that.”

“Yeah?” Carson asked, as though she wasn’t the one who made such a suggestive comment in the first place.

“I’ve been thinking about it since we kissed,” Greta confirmed. “I guess I’ll have to dream about it first, though, hm?”

She didn’t want to ask outright if Carson was just teasing or truly wanted to sleep with her; if she didn’t, it wouldn’t be the first time that Greta took playful flirting or kissing a near-stranger to mean something more. Eschewing her own rules about not playing around in emotionally risky situations was proving more complicated than she imagined, but it wasn’t a surprise. Her plan was to show up to this mysterious vacation, spend time alone, and maybe meet someone nice and unrelated to her life back in California. Her personality hadn’t been this well received in ages, so maybe that was why she was knocked off her feet by the whirlwind welcome to a new place. She figured, or feared, there had to be another shoe somewhere waiting to drop; Carson’s eyes were unreadable save for their curiosity.

“Want me to walk you back to your place, just so you can get to know the way around?”

“Hm, what do you expect when we get there?” Greta loaded the question intentionally, still testing the waters.

“Nothing, just wanna make sure you get back safe.” Carson seemed nervous, like she was afraid to scare off some tiny fragile bird, and it took impossible self-control for Greta to not explain then and there why it was a waste of time to treat her so delicately.

“That’s very sweet,” Greta smiled, sighing. “Should we have another drink, or go now?”

“There’s a gift waiting back at your cottage, I think it’ll make a pretty nice night cap. No obligation, of course,” Carson offered tentatively, a soft self-invitation. 

“You’re joining me, right?” Greta clarified. 

“If you want!” Carson’s answer was quick, and Greta noticed a blush on her cheeks. 

“Is it rude to go without saying goodbye?” Greta was suddenly eager to leave, as though everyone could tell she was doing something unprecedented and vulnerable, at least for her. It was always a struggle of power and control when it came to her relationships, and she liked her secrets; her cards were sewn into the pockets of every perfectly-tailored dress she wore, peeking out from every handbag, just enough for others to think they understood her completely. She never liked to show her hand, though, at least not to anyone new. Everyone was new, here.

“Nah, everyone’ll be around tomorrow,” Carson assured. “Come on, let’s go.”

Greta’s held Carson’s arm as they left quietly through the side entrance, back into the quiet night. 

“Thanks for taking me to the bar, I definitely would have stayed inside all evening otherwise,” Greta admitted, letting herself focus on Carson’s warm skin beneath her fingers instead of the thoughts swirling in her head.

“It’s always a little overwhelming to get here, I think, with how everyone is,” Carson said, her free hand in her pocket as they walked. “I want everyone who stays here to feel welcome, you just got a slightly different welcome than others, I guess.”

“I feel very lucky to get the VIP experience, I didn’t even pay extra for that,” Greta smiled.

“Actually, there was a secret hidden clause that said ‘the manager will hit on you’, we charged your card already,” Carson laughed at her own joke.

“Damn, that’s what I get for just blindly booking a trip,” Greta mused.

“Is your friend who told you to come out here someone who’s visited before?”

Greta could tell Carson was trying to find out more about her life and what brought her here, but she wasn’t ready to divulge all of that yet. Not while everything seemed nice, and light, and easy.

“No, she just knew I’d hate to spend a time meant for R&R surrounded by straight people,” Greta answered simply. “It’s my fault I didn’t look into anything beforehand, I just didn’t want to talk myself out of coming. I’m happy I’m here, though.  I’ve never been anywhere like this before.”

“Well, stay as long as you want. I saw you’re only supposed to be here for a few weeks, but we can always adjust your booking,” Carson said, professional with a tinge of hope.

“We’ll see,” Greta said, already dreading the return to her paused life. She put that dread in the back of her mind for now, though, in favor of at least trying to enjoy the time she did have.

As they approached the front door of Greta’s rental, Carson paused and looked up at her.

“What?” Greta asked, laughing slightly.

“Nothing, you’re just too gorgeous.”

Greta basked in the compliment quietly, out of clever lines for the moment. It was unusual to have someone show interest in the open like this; she didn't have the best history with finding people who were unattached and out of the closet at the same time. Usually, she could push and tease as much as she wanted only to be told that the object of her affection 'didn't know she was being serious', but with Carson it seemed she might need to tread with more discernment. Once inside, Carson headed to grab a bottle from the bar cart and a couple of glasses. 

“Pour mine nice and strong, would you, bartender?” Greta called, settling on the couch. 

“Of course, then I get to stay with you longer,” Carson replied, returning soon with their drinks.

“What are we having?” Greta asked, accepting hers graciously.

“Neat bourbon, that okay?”

“Definitely.”

Carson sat down on the couch, a respectful distance from Greta, and raised her own glass.

“To…new friends?”

“To new friends,” Greta nodded, touching her glass to Carson’s before taking a sip. The warm, smooth tingle that passed through her was only partially due to the drink as she saw Carson’s eyes wandering over her body.

Chapter Text

Greta awoke to several texts in a row from Carson the next morning, whose contact she’d cheekily saved in her phone as ‘Boss Shaw’ adorned with a peach emoji. The photos that Carson took of her outside of the bar sat in their new chat window, candid and sweet.  

hey, some of the girls are going to the beach today and wanted to invite you   

and I want to see you there too   

of course lol  

The notifications made Greta smile; she was still getting used to feeling so welcomed at the resort, wondering if the other women actually requested her presence or if Carson just wanted to see her again. 

Greta knew she’d be staying at the beach when she prepared for the trip, so she packed plenty of swim options. Ultimately, she selected a simpler look: a maroon and white striped bikini, and a thin cotton sundress as a coverup. She styled her hair as usual, same as her lipstick— perfect, smooth, and red.  

Walk me there? xo  

for sure, want some breakfast too?  

The pair ended up meeting near the water for convenience, Carson waving Greta over to a picnic table before standing to properly greet her, taking her beach bag for her and setting it next to the spread of food. 

“You look lovely,” Carson said, unabashedly gazing at Greta. She indulged her, doing a quick spin.  

“Thank you very much,” Greta said cheekily. “You look quite nice yourself.” 

Carson was in board shorts, a different baseball cap than before, and a loose tank top. Greta could see more skin than she had until then, a little glimpse of Carson’s sporty swimsuit already making her face feel warm. Carson seemed to notice, the tiniest grin on her lips. 

“I didn’t know what you like to eat, so I brought a little of everything,” Carson said, as though providing a beautiful selection of perfect morning-at-the-shore foods was something to sound apologetic about.  

“I usually forget breakfast, so anything is perfect,” Greta smiled, looking around to see if anybody was nearby before stepping closer to Carson. 

“Do I get a kiss good morning?” she asked coyly, the slightest pout on her lips.  

“Were you good last night?” Carson asked, eyebrows raised and her tone cheeky.  

Greta considered being contrary and making Carson work for the answer, but the anticipation of praise and rewards overpowered her yearning for mischief. 

“I thought about you, if that’s what you mean,” Greta confirmed, studying Carson’s reaction. She seemed pleased, if not a little surprised. 

“Good, I was thinking about you, too,” Carson murmured. “Thinking about how I’ll probably be the one in trouble if I do what I want with you.” 

“Who said I’ll let you do what you want with me, Shaw?” Greta teased, but the pounding in her chest and the butterflies she got when she imagined being more intimate with Carson revealed, at least to herself, that she absolutely would let her do as she pleased.  

Carson answered by placing her hands at Greta’s hips and pressing her toward the tree that shaded their picnic table. Greta smiled into their kiss as Carson eagerly met her lips, and she didn’t mind that her dress was probably snagging on uneven bark. She cupped Carson’s face, trying to draw her even closer and parting her lips with an invitation the brunette accepted without hesitation. It felt risky because of what Carson implied, like getting caught would be a huge scandal, but she liked the feeling as Carson hummed against her mouth and nearly devoured her with her tongue. Carson bit down on her bottom lip before they parted, hard enough to sting but not hurt, and Greta rubbed her thumbs across her cheeks in thanks before she found her words again. 

“We should probably eat,” Greta breathed, blushing and reluctant to let go of Carson. It was nice to gaze at her, her pupils wide and lips shiny from kissing, but if they didn’t shift gears she feared she’d never actually make it onto the sand.  

They finally peeled away from the tree and off of each other, sitting down just as Lupe, Jess, and Esti came into view.  

“She really does look like she could be their kid, that’s adorable,” Greta said, watching the group as they set up towels and an umbrella in the sand. “Are Jess and Lupe, like…?” she asked, truly unable to tell at this point who was romantically connected at all. She was modern in her thinking, it wasn’t like someone who hit on her couldn’t have a long-term partner at the same time.  

“Oh, definitely not, just best friends,” Carson laughed. “Why, are you interested?” The question sounded half-serious. 

“No, weirdo, but they’re both handsome,” Greta shrugged honestly. “I’m not not going to flirt just because the boss is obsessed with me, you know.” 

“It’s cute when you call me the boss,” Carson said as though that was all she heard, smiling down at her paper plate as she filled it with fruit and a bagel.  

Greta grabbed some food as well, wondering if Carson would think she was odd for eating everything with a fork instead of her hands. There were a few things she was self-conscious about in terms of her proclivities, especially because people often took her personal compulsions as prissy or tinged with judgment of others, but Carson just smiled at her like she was blessed to share a meal in the first place. 

“You don’t need to watch me eat,” Greta said after swallowing, a hand over her mouth.  

“I can’t help that you’re pretty,” Carson countered.  

“So are you,” Greta argued playfully, tilting her head. “And you look happy, too, which makes you prettier.” 

“I am happy, I get to spend time with you before I get to work,” Carson said, nudging her foot under the table. 

“Oh, that’s right, you do the rentals,” Greta recalled. “I’ll miss you when you’re not giving me all your attention,” she added with an appropriately dramatic sigh. 

“I know, but it’ll be good to spend time with the others…hey, speaking of work, what do you do back home? If it’s not too invasive, or anything.” 

Greta hummed, spearing a carefully sliced piece of blueberry muffin before answering. It was sort of tricky, choosing what details to fill in about herself and what to leave out. Answers tended to lead to more questions. 

“Well, I want to be an actress, that’s why I thought it was so funny when you did that silly Hollywood bit the first night,” Greta said. “I did some modeling and commercials when I was younger, but it’s hard to get good film work and TV is a total bloodbath, even living in L.A.,” she explained. “I have a boring part-time gig on the side to pay the bills, just while I audition and all that.”  

She waved her hand, like it wasn’t that frustrating to constantly waste her time busting her ass and getting shot down. ‘Boring side gig’ wasn’t necessarily a lie, from her perspective, but she definitely didn’t feel the urge to elaborate.  

“I can definitely see you as an actress, I mean, like, not just your appearance,” Carson said, flustering herself. “But you have a, um, very compelling presence,” she added, nodding. “And I hope you get a big job so you can quit your boring…thing.” 

“Well, thank you,” Greta said, partially regarding the compliments but also for the lack of follow-up about her other work. “I hope so, too.” 

“Do you live by yourself out in California?” Carson asked, and Greta could tell she was trying not to sound too curious. It was endearing how bad she was at acting nonchalant, a smile on Greta’s lips as she answered. 

“No, I live with my best friend, Jo,” she said, a pinprick of guilt creeping in considering she hadn’t kept her updated on much about her trip so far. “She’s a production assistant, so sometimes she helps me find work, too, which is really nice. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” 

Carson smiled, then opened her mouth like she had something else to say before closing it again. 

“What?” 

“Oh, it’s stupid,” Carson said, shaking her head with a laugh and taking another bite of her food.  

“Now I’m curious!” Greta said, pouting until Carson finished swallowing and held her hands up in surrender. 

“I was going to ask if you ever, like, had a thing with Jo, then I realized that’s super personal,” Carson said, doing that cute rambling thing Greta was coming to enjoy very much.  

“That’s not a crazy question! I mean, I love her with my whole heart,” Greta began, “but it’s not like that with her. We’ve been friends basically forever, if we kiss it’s like…I don’t know, Europeans greeting each other,” she said.  

“That’s how it felt kissing Shirley,” Carson blurted.  

“Ooooh, who’s Shirley?” Greta asked, grinning.  

“She works here, too, she’s lifeguarding today so you’ll meet her,” Carson said before lowering her voice and leaning closer to Greta. “She says she’s not gay and that she just finds it interesting to work here, so, you know,” she shrugged, and Greta nodded in understanding. 

“I won’t flash her, then,” Greta said simply, biting her bottom lip to keep from laughing as Carson blushed, then frowned. “Oh, relax, I’ll try not to flash anyone. But why’d you kiss her, then?” 

“Oh, she kissed me. As a gay test,” Carson said somberly, like she was remembering the saddest moment of her life thus far.  

“That’s actually devastating that you made her straight,” Greta joked, stabbing at another bite of muffin. 

“Oh, it haunts me every moment of every day,” Carson agreed, nodding.  

They continued eating quietly as more beach-ready women arrived, Greta having just finished up as Jess sauntered up to the table. 

“Brought food for everyone, Shaw? Nice,” she said, grabbing a few pastries and tossing Greta a wink before heading back to Lupe and Esti.  

“What was that?” Carson asked, bemused. Despite her casual response, Greta could hear the subtext as Carson tried to fill in all the gaps between their time together, wondering if she and Lupe followed up on any flirting so far.  

“I think she was pointing out that it looks like we’re on a date,” Greta said, laughing. “And she knows you like me,” she added, singsongy to hide how genuinely giddy it made her. Everything about Carson made her feel nostalgic, which was both wonderful and terrifying, but she couldn’t help how much fun it was to get bashful over a crush.  

“Okay, I get it, go find a spot…where I can see you from the marina, though.” 

“Aw, you want to watch me, huh?” Greta stood up, grabbing her bag.  

“Well, yeah, to make sure you’re having a good day, and everything,” Carson mumbled, and Greta nodded with sarcastic seriousness.  

“You got it, boss. I’ll be sure to have all my fun in your line of sight,” she said. 

“Good- yeah. Good, that’s good,” Carson said, like she almost let something else slip, and the eye contact they made as Greta tilted her head hummed with tension.  

“Were you going to call me a good girl, Carson?” Greta teased, her eyebrows raised. 

“No, psh, I just…whatever, go,” she said, waving her hand as her cheeks reddened. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Greta grinned, turning toward the beach before Carson could see her own blush.  

She made a beeline toward the marina, trying to guess where Carson would be spending the most time, and set her bag down.  

“Do you need help with any of that?”  

 Greta looked up from where she crouched in the sand, greeted by someone she didn’t recognize but put together from her extremely bright red and aggressively labeled lifeguard getup that she had to be Shirley.  

“Oh, no, I’ve got it! Thank you,” Greta said, straightening up to introduce herself. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Greta.” 

“I know. Your last name is Gill, so it’s good that you’re near the ocean, I think.” 

Greta blinked in delighted confusion. 

“Thank…you?” 

“I’m Shirley. I don’t really have any cool nicknames like some of the others, but if you think of one just let me know and I’ll see if it works…no worries if not, though, I’m pretty picky. Maybe no nicknames for now, actually.” 

“Okay, no worries,” Greta said, wondering why Carson didn’t mention that Shirley was kind of hilarious. “So, you’re the lifeguard here?” 

“Well, I like to think of myself as a semi-aquatic safety officer, but Carson told me to stop calling myself that,” she said, frowning. “So don’t tell her I told you.”  

“It’ll be our little secret,” Greta said with a wink, reaching to grab her towel so she could spread it out.  

“Wonderful, let me know if you need anything!” Shirley hurried off to her lifeguard chair, and Greta took a deep breath. Even though part of this trip was meant to get her out of her comfort zone, it was still a lot to meet so many new people in a short time. It wasn’t a bad thing, but to most people she tended to be someone you’d meet, have an amazing time with, and never see again. Jo was her only close friend, everyone else just faded in and out of view like the smoggy, pink sunsets she’d come to love. 

Carson had made her way over to the marina, very obviously looking in Greta’s direction every so often. It was cute, like she was trying to play it off as a general scan of the beach, but without many people there yet it was quite clear where her attention sat. Unable to resist the opportunity, Greta stripped out of her dress and adjusted her swimsuit, covering her mouth to giggle as Carson nearly slammed into a wave runner up on the dock. Greta sat down, plucking her sunglasses from her bag and sliding them on.  

“Hey, Red!” Lupe called from her foldable chair. “You’d better put on sunscreen before Shirley gets on your ass!” 

“My ass is actually not your business, but do you want to help me get my back?” Greta called in return, that uncontrollable bit of mischief within her begging for an opportunity to cause a little trouble. 

It felt like a cheap excuse, but sometimes she just couldn’t resist a good volley. Lupe hopped up at the invitation and Greta grabbed her sunscreen from her bag, holding it out with a smirk.  

“You didn’t have to run over here like a total freak,” Greta teased, shifting to lie on her stomach and resting her cheek on her folded arms.  

“I didn’t run ,” Lupe dismissed, looking her over as she knelt in the sand. “Nice swimsuit, though.” 

“Thanks,” Greta said, humming. “I don’t want to ruin it, so you should probably untie the back.” 

“Should I?” Lupe asked suggestively, dispensing some of the sunscreen in her hand. Greta tried not to think of any innuendos, which only made her consider them more. 

“Yeah, it’s dry clean only,” she said simply, refocusing on the back-and-forth. 

“What the fuck is the point of a swimsuit you can’t get wet?” Lupe laughed, tugging the red bow Greta had tied earlier loose and pushing the hanging strings aside.  

“It’s just for laying out, I knew the water would be way too cold, anyway,” Greta said, the lotion cool against her skin as Lupe started spreading it over her back. Her touch was surprisingly soft, but still strong as she continued. Even though Greta was facing away from Carson, she could feel her eyes again like she did at the bar, like a laser likely trained somewhere between Lupe’s hands and her only slightly-skimpy bottoms. As Lupe’s hands traveled, she tried to imagine what Carson was thinking, whether she was jealous she wasn’t the first at the resort to touch her bare skin, if she’d get all possessive over it… 

“Girls are so insane about clothes,” Lupe said, her hands following a mostly appropriate path until they weren’t. She massaged her shoulders, then slid down to her lower back, and lingered there before skimming up her sides with her fingertips especially close to the edge of her half-untied top. “I can’t imagine having something I couldn’t get soaking wet, personally.” 

Maybe she really does want Carson to kill her.   

Greta didn’t say anything, but she felt a stir that she knew meant she probably should as Lupe’s fingers got closer to her front than her back. 

“That’s what I like to see, ladies!” Shirley shouted, startling them both as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere. “Sun care is extremely important. More than ninety percent of skin cancers result from exposure to the sun,” she continued at a slightly-normal volume before going back to shouting, addressing the whole beach as if it was packed with more than the small group of people there so far. “Everyone, be like Lupe and Greta! If you need a helping hand, don’t be afraid to ask!” 

Greta’s focus went from Lupe’s sneaky hands to trying not to laugh, biting her bottom lip and burying her face in her arms until Shirley walked away. 

“I’ll give you a ‘helping hand’ anytime,” Lupe leaned to whisper as she re-tied Greta’s top before standing up and brushing the sand from her knees. 

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. So I don’t get skin cancer,” Greta said with a grin, flipping over so she could sit up and finish applying.  

“Carson’s making that face again, I can see it from here,” Lupe said, waving exaggeratedly toward the marina.  

“Then go back to your family, you’re blocking my sun, anyway,” Greta said, shooing her playfully.  

“My fam- oh, shut up,” Lupe said, rolling her eyes and jogging back to her group.  

Greta, finally satisfied with her SPF coverage, rested back on her elbows and took another deep, calibrating breath. All she could think about was Carson, and how she wished she could just spend the day with her instead of trying to get her attention from afar. She nearly got up to go see her, but her indecision left an open window for other company. 

“Greta!” Maybelle exclaimed to get her attention, heading towards her with an excited wave. “Can I sit next to you?” 

“Hey, sure,” Greta said, happy to see her. Everyone there was great to be around so far, but something about Maybelle made her feel more at ease.  

Perhaps it’s because you aren’t doing some kind of weird sexual back and forth with her.  

“How are you liking it here so far?” Maybelle asked as Greta helped her spread her towel. “Seems like everyone’s taking to you pretty well,” she added with an exaggerated eyebrow wag. “Some more than others, hmm?” 

“Who do you mean?” Greta asked, actively trying not to glance Carson’s way.  

“Well, Shirley kind of made everyone look at you at Lupe, but I didn’t want to interrupt,” Maybelle started, sitting down before arranging onto her side with her cheek propped in her hand. “I think Shaw’s into you, though.” 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Greta asked, mimicking her position so they wouldn’t have to speak too loudly. 

“She’s usually super focused on work, but she’s been staring at you like crazy since you got here,” Maybelle said, grinning. “You’d be pretty cute together, I think. Do you like her, too?”  

Greta considered doing what she always did, which was to lie and minimize so she’d feel less embarrassed if something went wrong, but her recent thoughts about loneliness and her shortage of genuine friends overrode her urge to avoid vulnerability. 

“I think I do,” Greta said, playing with a piece of her hair. “But we just met, and I’m not really…dating right now, or at least I shouldn’t be.”  

“Hmm,” Maybelle looked at her thoughtfully. “You’re thinking too much,” she decided. “Here,” she started rifling through her bag, producing a flask. 

“It’s still the morning,” Greta laughed, accepting it anyway and unscrewing the cap. 

“It’s just vodka, and it’s vacation,” Maybelle shrugged.  

“Two very fair points,” Greta said, taking a swig and passing it back to her potential new confidant.  

“Why don’t you think you should be dating?” Maybelle asked after her own drink. “You seem very…dateable?” 

“I just do too much too fast,” Greta oversimplified. “Or not enough, or…I don’t know, I’m just bad at it?” 

“Nah, I think people are probably just bad at being with you. If they think you’re doing too much, they should find someone who does a lot less and let a woman who can handle you have a chance.” 

“Damn,” Greta said, considering her words. “That’s really well-put, I just get ahead of myself so easily, or I come off confusing or cold and can’t dig myself out of it when I start doing, like, a character.” 

“Are you doing a character right now?” Maybelle asked, offering her another sip from the flask which Greta happily accepted.  

“I’m really trying not to, at least with you, but it sort of happens without me meaning for it to.” 

“You’re an actress, huh?” 

“Well, I want to be…” 

“No, like your personality! It’s easy to just play along with what other people find entertaining, then suddenly you’re too deep in the plot or whatever and it gets messy.” 

Greta was taken aback; it wasn’t like all of this was news, but people didn’t usually feel so comfortable calling her out. Even Jo bit her tongue, sometimes. 

“Are you a therapist or something?” Greta asked, a brow raised. 

“God, no, I’m just kind of like that, too,” Maybelle said, her smile sympathetic. “Sorry if that was rude.” 

“No, no, I’m sorry that you can relate,” Greta said, laughing. “But it’s also nice to know I’m not the only one.” 

They passed the flask back and forth a few more times, quietly enjoying each other’s company, but Greta kept glancing at Carson and her mind couldn’t focus on anything else. 

“So, what should I do about it? The acting?” Greta asked, pursing her lips thoughtfully as she watched a group of ladies approach Carson to rent some paddle boards.  

“I haven’t figured that part out yet,” Maybelle said with a shrug. “But, hey, if she’s really into you I’m sure she can tell there’s more than meets the eye. Just see where it goes!” 

“Yeah,” Greta said, grateful she wasn’t being judged for being all over the place. 

Eventually, Maybelle was sucked into a game of frisbee and Greta was left alone for long enough to read some of her book, trying to get her mind off of the obvious well of self reflection she likely needed to dive into but would rather avoid for the moment. Self-awareness felt stifling; acknowledging that she might be perceived as inauthentic or flippant about intimate relationships due to her own choices, her own consistent behavior, just made her anxious. It was easier at times to act like she didn’t know what she was doing, or why she was doing it.  

Carson got busier as the day went on, going over safety requirements with various guests and helping them with their various watercrafts, and as the afternoon sun finally appeared it was Greta’s turn for a bit of a show. Carson took off her hat and pulled her tank top off over her head with one hand, and Greta wished she had binoculars as she stared unabashedly at her sports bra style top. Even though she couldn’t see all of her features clearly, when Carson’s head turned her way and she ran a hand back through her hair, Greta knew she had on a smug smirk. Replaying the visual display several times in her mind, she tried to refocus on her book, but it seemed suddenly uninteresting. All she truly wanted to think about was her growing stack of fantasies, ones that now included Carson sweaty and tan and all over her.  

The rest of the afternoon at the beach flew by, Greta being whisked into several physical activities; she was good at frisbee, okay at volleyball, and apparently a ten-out-of-ten at building sandcastles. Esti asked to be buried in a mermaid tail made of sand after seeing Greta’s work on the castle, and she indulged her happily. She even had a beer, only because it sounded refreshing, and learned that Jess played guitar. It was fun filling in details about everyone, and her apprehension at getting to know new people softened as she reminded herself that nobody would go out of their way to include her if they didn’t think she was worth including.  She didn’t want to bother Carson while she was still working, so when she started getting hungry and a bit too sandy for her liking, she said goodbye to the ladies she’d been spending time with and packed up her things with a final glance toward her…crush? Semi-secret kissing partner? Whatever Carson was becoming to her, it would be harder to have her so close but so far than it would to go spend some time alone.  

Chapter Text

Back at her cottage, Greta showered off the salt of the day before finishing unpacking, hanging her clothes carefully in the order that she liked and filling a drawer with her delicates. Her toiletries were arranged on the bathroom counter and her makeup on the vanity, and once everything was in its place she let out a sigh. She was used to making different places feel like home for a while; she always brought the things that made her feel safe, like an old photo booth strip of her and Jo, this time stuck with a magnet to the fridge, her favorite pair of house slippers so the floors wouldn’t feel so unfamiliar, and her journal so she could have her old selves with her, too.  

She was definitely hungry after finishing organizing, curling up on the couch and picking up the landline to call the front desk regarding meal options. Part of her also wanted to know if Carson was back from the beach yet, but she wasn’t quite sure how to ask without an actual reason to speak with her.  

Don’t start acting all needy, that’s how you scare people off who want something casual.  

“Hello, you’ve reached the Peaches front desk. This is Esti!” 

“Hi, Esti, it’s Greta in 333,” Greta played with the phone’s cord, pushing her Carson-related thoughts aside. “I was wondering what I should do for dinner tonight, and I might need to grab groceries at some point, too.” 

Esti went over the options; the resort partnered with a few restaurants nearby for delivery, and grocery orders could be made at the office, so she decided to opt for room service and stock up later on necessities. 

“Do you know if the balsamic on the caprese is more of a glaze or traditional?” Greta asked. “Actually, either is fine. I’ll take that, please.” 

“Perfect, someone will drop it off for you in half an hour,” Esti responded cheerily.   

“Thank you so much, I appreciate you!” 

“You’re welcome, Greta! Also, it was fun at the beach with you, you are very good at sand mermaid tails.” 

“Thank you, you’re an amazing mermaid,” Greta laughed. “Talk to you later, have a good night!” 

She hung up, suddenly incredibly aware of how quiet it was. Music sounded like a good idea, so she turned the volume on her phone all the way up and hit play on the album she’d been listening to last before pouring herself a drink from the gifted bottle she’d enjoyed with Carson. Her journal sat on the coffee table, more than a year’s worth of outpourings tucked in its pages, and she thumbed through to scan for one of her other new beginnings, as though she could find hints about how things with Carson would go.  

2/14/23  

She found out about my other job and doesn’t want to see me tonight even though we had plans because apparently I’m the ‘whole city’s lover’. I didn’t know what to say, it’s not even like she knows anything about art, and regardless I’ve shown her who I am so she shouldn’t judge me for what I choose to do to support myself. I don’t like men!! Why would she make it sound like I do? I barely even see them in the room when all those eyes are on me. Now I feel disgusting.  

The pain of the memory was dulled now, but it still made her feel misunderstood and like she needed to guard herself better. The less people knew about her, the less they could throw it in her face when they decided she was too big of a handful.  

If she thinks I like that type of attention, who else does? Nobody takes me seriously, even people who say they care about me. I can’t quit because I have a commitment with the university & I don’t want to quit because the money’s alright. It’s not that fucking hard to get naked and sit there for a few hours while people draw my boobs. Why couldn’t she just understand I wasn’t trying to be weird by not mentioning it & was just scared of the exact reaction she had? Jo isn’t even home, I’m alone. Again.  

Greta bit her lip, frowning as she flipped backwards in the pages, searching for the happy part. She found her entry from their first date, complete with romantic doodles in the margins, and it felt like a lifetime away. Somehow, reading about how excited she’d been to meet someone who was ready for her, who didn’t want to hide her, was sadder than revisiting her heartbreak. She was literal to a fault, and when someone said they wanted her, she tended to believe them. She decided she wasn’t going to write about meeting Carson. Maybe putting names and expectations down in ink like something permanent was what ruined each past connection, in some cosmic way.  

She put her journal back in one of her suitcases, zipped away for now, and focused on her music until her food arrived. She wished she could see Carson now, just for some reassurance if anything, but she didn’t want to overwhelm her and prove all of her fears correct so soon. When her food arrived, she turned on something to watch on the little TV in the living room and let the noise drown her thoughts until she was ready for bed.  

♡  

The next morning, Greta felt somewhat embarrassed at how quickly she checked her phone to check whether or not Carson messaged her. She hadn’t seen or heard from Carson since the beach, and she was avoiding seeming desperate but she was starting to get anxious. To distract herself from her likely-misplaced doubt, she called Jo on FaceTime. 

“Ah, the elusive Bird appears!” Jo said, smiling into the camera. Greta already felt better just seeing her face. 

“Hey, Joey, sorry I’ve been so scarce,” Greta said, propping up her phone against the vanity mirror so she could get ready while they caught up. 

“I’m not used to not hearing every single detail of your day, like, every day,” Jo laughed. “How are things going there? I looked the place up, it seems nice,” she added with a pointed eyebrow raise.  

“It’s really nice, yeah,” Greta said, chewing her lip and pretending to analyze her makeup options as she tried to decide what to say next.  

“There’s something going on, you’re making your ‘I have a secret’ face!” Jo prodded.  

“Okay, yes, I didn’t want to say because it’s not at all what I was supposed to be focusing on here,” Greta admitted.  

“What’s her name?” Jo asked, like she’d been to this rodeo a couple million times. 

“…Carson,” Greta mumbled, fighting the urge to hide her face as Jo narrowed her eyes.  

“She’s staying there, too?” 

“Um…well, yes, but she also works here,” Greta said, swiping on her eyeshadow. 

Jo’s face fell, and Greta groaned.  

“Greta, come on-“ 

“It’s not like I came here trying to date the boss, we just connected,” Greta excused. “And it’s only a fling, I think.” 

“Of course she’s the boss, you’re so…How many times have you ended up devastated over ‘only a fling’, anyway? I’m not trying to be a dick, I just want you to be smart.” 

“So you think I’m being stupid?” Greta asked earnestly. 

“Well, sort of,” Jo said, sighing. “Look, I’ll always be happy when you’re happy, but maybe post-mental breakdown flings can wait until you’re home?” 

So she can keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t do anything you didn’t run past her first, surely.  

Greta bristled at Jo’s choice of phrasing, rolling her eyes. 

“It wasn’t a mental breakdown, Joey. I’m fine, and I’m on vacation,” Greta snapped, colder than she meant to sound. “It’s so frustrating trying to talk to you sometimes.” 

“It’s frustrating as hell talking to you, too, but I always want to despite the fact that you’re the biggest brat ever,” Jo said with a sad smile. “I worry about you all the time, and I don’t want someone taking advantage because you’re vulnerable, that’s all I was trying to say.” 

Greta nodded, letting out a long exhale. 

“I just feel defensive, because I really think I like her,” Greta mumbled. “And she’s not the same as the sneaky married women in L.A.,” she added. 

“Do you know that for sure?” Jo asked, her tone lighter but the question obviously serious. “It’s only been a few days, just be careful.” 

“You know that makes me not want to be careful at all,” Greta pouted. “I was reading my journal entries, some of the ones about-“ 

“If you say her name I’m going to start retching,” Jo warned. “The slut shamer?” 

“Yes, the slut shamer,” Greta continued, her eyeliner application still precise as she frowned. “And I was being careful in the beginning, following all the rules, and I was so happy…then me being too secretive ruined everything.” 

“I’m not saying you have to be secretive, but words are different than, you know…” 

“Different than what? You sound like her , like I’m supposed to keep my emotions and my body and everything else locked away.” 

“Don’t compare me to her, that’s not fair,” Jo warned. 

“Then stop judging me for how I express myself,” Greta bit back. “I like to flirt, I like to hook up, I like to feel wanted. Is that such a huge crime?” 

“Sleeping with people you’re too attached to too fast isn’t self expression, Greta,” Jo said, exasperated.  

“Oh my god , you’re the one assuming we’ve already slept together,” Greta said, forcing an exaggerated smile as she applied her blush. “We’ve been talking, we kissed a couple of times, and that’s it.” 

“Whatever, it’s not like you’ll listen to me anyway,” Jo conceded. “I really do hope you have fun on your trip, and I miss you even though you’re annoying.” 

“I miss you even though you’re annoying, too,” Greta sighed. “And I know you really mean that, and that you’re just overprotective because you loooooove me,” she smiled in earnest now, feeling less on-edge as Jo scrunched her nose. 

“What would you do without me, huh?” 

“I don’t know, probably die?” Greta shrugged.  

“I do love you, always, but you know that,” Jo said. “I gotta go to work, let me know how things go with this Carson chick so I can decide if I need a plane ticket to come beat her ass.” 

“I love you, too, and I’ll keep you posted,” Greta said, blowing a kiss before Jo ended the call.  

She finished her makeup and checked her outfit in the mirror, her cropped blouse tied at her waist and her skirt hitting mid-thigh. She wasn’t not dressing with Carson’s lingering stares in mind. Satisfied with her appearance, she grabbed her purse and headed out for a stroll. 

She found a little bench out of the way of the road to pause for a cigarette,  peeking around every time she heard someone nearby just in case Carson was around. Her whole conversation with Jo just made her want to see Carson more; maybe it was good for her to have something private, something separate that was just hers without anyone else’s input. When she finished her smoke, she wandered in the direction of the main office, knowing she’d be hung up all day if she didn’t at least say hi to her crush. 

“Oh! Greta!” Esti looked up from the desk’s computer, waving her over as she opened the office door.  

She felt suddenly nervous, wondering if bothering Carson at work would be the right thing to do after her potentially confusing behavior. Had she gone too far with her teasing, her intentional button-pushing? 

Maybelle was right about you not being able to turn off the acting bit, huh?  

“Hey, Esti, have you seen—“ 

“Ms. Shaw wanted to talk, I was going to call you,” Esti said, her expression unreadable. 

“She’s in her office? What does she want to talk about?” Greta asked, a bit taken off-guard but hopeful that she just missed her, too. 

“She didn't say,” Esti shrugged. “I’m going to eat lunch since I found you, just go back there.” She gestured at Carson’s office door, already gathering her things to go eat outside. 

With a soft knock, Greta let herself into the office. Carson stood in her usual hat and a tank top, tilting her head as the taller woman entered.  

“Where’ve you been today?” she asked immediately, walking behind Greta to lock the door.  

“Hello to you, too,” Greta said with a nervous giggle. “What’s with the face?” 

“Seriously, Greta, I went by your place and you weren’t there.” Carson’s tone was far from jovial, but Greta wasn’t quite sure how to place her energy. 

“I knew you were stalking me, so I was hiding,” she joked playfully. “Are you seriously mad?” 

“Were you with anyone or not?” 

It didn’t seem like Carson was messing around, but she didn’t think anything she’d done was that big of a deal. They weren’t exclusive, they didn’t have rules besides not prying about the other’s life, and Carson had to know by now how Greta was when it came to flirting…she couldn’t figure out why she was acting so strict all of a sudden. Like her best friend had so kindly reminded her, they’d barely gotten to know each other. 

“God, no, I was actually on the phone with Jo. Then I took a walk, had a smoke, looked around for you and didn’t see you anywhere...” Greta explained, her tone sassy. “Since I guess you want to keep tabs on me.” 

So much for being cute about it…  

Carson sighed, turning her hat backwards and placing her hands on Greta’s hips. Greta raised her eyebrows, looping her arms around Carson’s shoulders. 

“Are you upset with me? I just didn’t want to bug you if you were busy,” Greta pouted.  

“You let her undress you, I thought about it all day,” Carson said, her teeth gritted and her tone hushed.  

“Let who- oh, at the beach? I’d hardly call that undressing ,” Greta excused, something about Carson’s attitude making her head fuzzy.  

“She untied your top and touched you, I know she probably loved it,” Carson mumbled. 

“It was nothing, I just needed sunscreen.” Even as the words left Greta’s mouth she knew it didn’t matter; with the history between Lupe and Carson, she should have known she was flying too close to the sun playing them against each other how she was. She couldn’t resist the tension, the threat of danger, the look Carson got in her eye when she pretended not to be jealous as well as the one she got when she didn't care to hide it.  

This was the goal of your stupid games, right?  

“I bet you liked how her hands felt on you, too, hm?” Carson asked, sliding her hands up Greta’s waist as she pushed her toward her desk. It was different from the way she took over prior, against the brick wall, or the tree, like Carson thought she’d fly away if she wasn’t pressed against something firm.  

Greta braced one arm back against the desk, slightly perched as Carson’s hands traveled higher, palming her breasts. She knew she couldn’t hide her pounding heart as Carson felt her up, like she wanted to erase Lupe’s touch from Greta’s mind. 

“I was thinking about you the whole time, of course I was.” Greta felt her voice shake, and now she didn’t know if it was from nerves or arousal. She wanted to try to be honest about her feelings, and her desire, but Carson’s hands took nearly every thought out of her brain. 

“Well, I want to give you more to think about, so you can stop looking for so much attention elsewhere.” 

If Greta wasn’t so turned on by Carson being a little mean, she’d probably be offended by the observation that she thirsted for attention like water. 

“What do you mean by that?” Greta asked, faux-innocent. 

Carson answered with her lips, one hand moving to the back of Greta’s neck with a squeeze as she kissed her roughly. There was a growing fire in Greta’s abdomen that became hotter as she returned Carson’s kiss, trying to keep in pace with her lips as the brunette pushed her skirt up, stepping between her legs. Greta felt her thighs tense as Carson touched her bare skin, teasingly close to the edge of her underwear. She reached around Carson’s back, her nails digging into her shoulders. 

“You’re going to have me here, in your office?”  

Carson finally grinned, this time kissing Greta softly before speaking again. 

“Do you want me to?” Carson asked, though it really didn’t feel like a question. It was more of a taunt, like she knew Greta needed to be ravaged and just wanted to see her admit it. 

“Seems like a pretty good prize for making you mad,” Greta sassed, “ boss ,” she added, watching Carson’s eyes widen for a moment. 

Carson bit her bottom lip hard the next time they kissed, and Greta could feel wetness threatening to soak through her underwear already. She came to see her with the intention of being sweet, telling Carson she was on her mind and that she wanted to see where things went with their connection, but now she was entirely thrown. She could hardly wrap her mind around this side of Carson, one that was more competitive and commanding and territorial. It was her goal, of course, to bring out some sort of reaction, but this was the first time someone truly surprised her by actually fighting back against her naughty games. 

“I don’t want to share you, I know that for sure now,” Carson said, her voice husky and low. 

“Took long enough for you to figure it out,” Greta let her words spill, her nails pressing harder into Carson’s skin. “I was just waiting for you to need me this much.”  

“Why didn’t you say something?” Carson asked.  

“I wanted to know if I was too much for you, first.” 

Carson bit her neck, firmly enough to make Greta moan, and she could feel her smile as she placed a kiss there to soothe the mark her teeth left. 

“I like how much you are,” Carson murmured. 

Greta definitely thought their first time together would be in one of their beds, maybe even some back room at the bar, but certainly not Carson’s office. The fact that they’d been joking since they met about her position of power didn’t help quell her rapidly growing arousal as she found herself tugged away from the desk and pushed down onto the simple couch against the wall. Carson kissed her again, bending to meet her lips, and Greta felt needy enough to tug at her tank top to try and bring her closer with a half-concealed plea against her mouth. 

“You have to be quiet, okay? Someone might hear,” Carson reminded her, a contrastingly gentle hand at her neck, barely curled around as she stood over the mess of desperation Greta had already become. 

“Carson, please,” Greta whisper-whined. “You have to touch me.” 

“You don’t tell me what to do, you can ask,” Carson said, the confidence in her voice tinged with hot, eager frustration. “You said I’m the boss, remember?” 

Having her own early, flippant words used against her so lewdly made Greta squirm with desire. 

“You were being bad on purpose yesterday, you knew what you were doing,” Carson continued, “and you wanted me to do something about it. So I am.” 

“I just wanted your attention,” Greta pleaded, gripping more impatiently at Carson’s clothes. “And I…I’m asking for it now, please.” 

“You know you always have it, I told you I wouldn’t take my eyes off you.” 

“Yes, okay, I did all of it on purpose to see what you’d do,” Greta confessed, afraid she’d already created a wet patch on the couch. Her skirt was still pushed up, her top was disheveled and her hair was already a mess compared to its usual impeccably maintained style. “Because I don’t believe you’re as goddamn gracious and polite as you act, and you don’t like other people touching things you want.” 

She knew her words would rile Carson up more, which they did, and she bit her bottom lip to hold in a whimper as Carson moved her hand from her neck to pin her firmly against the couch by one shoulder as her other fingers worked to unbutton Greta’s top. She pushed it open hastily, Greta’s lacy bra displayed and her skin flushed.  

“Did you wear this for me?” Carson asked, her tone softer now.  

“Yes, Carson,” Greta breathed, trembling. “Everything I’ve been doing is just so you’ll look at me, that’s all I want.” 

“Good, you’re so good,” Carson whispered.  

The sudden shift to praise was almost as disorienting as Carson’s apparent annoyance turning to lust. As someone who liked to keep everyone else on their toes, Greta had to accept that she was completely lost in the best way. She didn’t say anything, just aiding in Carson’s attempts to remove her blouse. 

“You’re so beautiful…you really thought I was going to let anyone else play with you?” Carson’s eyes flicked between her face and her chest. 

“I wasn’t going to let it get that far,” Greta managed between breaths, her stomach taut as Carson explored more of her bare skin.  

“Tell me why,” Carson instructed, reaching between Greta’s legs to finally feel the wet lace there. “Why not let her touch you like this?” 

Greta shivered, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried not to press too eagerly into Carson’s fingers. 

“Because I wanted you to want me the most,” Greta said honestly, trying to keep her volume low. “I wanted you to get jealous and fuck me senseless over it.” 

“Aren’t you lucky?” Carson cooed, pulling Greta’s slick underwear down just far enough to make room for her hand. She stroked across the heat that she found so lightly Greta almost broke, so desperate she was dizzy. 

“Please, please,” Greta mumbled, practically clawing at Carson to bring her body closer.  

“Oh, so you have manners now?” Carson asked, accusatory but playful.  

Greta couldn’t conjure any words to defend herself, blinking her eyes open with her arms looped around Carson’s neck. She saw desire on Carson’s face, of course, but her eyes still showed her warmth, her apprehension, her urge to please. If she was truly mad, she wouldn’t have been so deliberate, so calculated in her approach. Carson dragged her fingers through Greta’s wetness with more pressure, somewhere between exploring and preparing, and Greta bit down on her shoulder to keep from whimpering. 

“Just hold me, I’ve got you,” Carson murmured into Greta’s ear.  

Those few words made Greta feel like she could float out of her body, her back arching as Carson’s fingers finally slid into her. Her free hand moved to hold Greta’s hips in place, strong and steady.  

“Is that okay?” Carson whispered, pushing just a bit further. 

“Mhmm,” Greta hummed, nodding.  

“You feel so good…I bet you’re sweet, too.” 

Greta whined in protest as Carson withdrew her fingers, watching intently as she sucked them both clean before entering her again. Now she fucked her in earnest, finally, pressing into her hip so hard with her other hand she’d probably make a bruise and grinning as Greta had to cover her mouth with her own palm. 

Carson started rubbing circles with her thumb, complementing her thrusts and stared down at Greta who could only try to stay as quiet as possible while stars shimmered behind her eyes. She was soaked, writhing against Carson’s strong hold, acutely aware of the fact she was partially clothed and Carson was dressed…it wouldn’t take her long to finish. 

“Need more, baby?”  

Greta nodded urgently, muffling her own noises as Carson added another finger. It was hard to keep her eyes open knowing everything she was feeling showed in her expression, but the way Carson was watching her made it even more challenging to look away. Her stomach tightened even more and she sunk her teeth between her thumb and index finger, pleasure blooming from her core through every inch of her. 

“That’s it, be good for me,” Carson whispered, pressing her forehead to Greta’s. “You’re a good girl, right?” 

Greta moved her hand from her mouth to gasp a breath, nodding haphazardly, and Carson took the opportunity to reach for her wrist. She held it against the couch, Greta’s bottom lip between her teeth as she fought to stay quiet enough. Carson’s fingers pumped in and out of her a few more times before she employed her whole hand in the role of rubbing quickly and firmly, obscenely wet sounds filling the space until, with a half-frozen gasp, Greta came. 

She pulsed and twitched against Carson’s hand, her hips flexing into the sensation as her mouth opened and closed in mostly-silent bliss. Carson’s touch slowed eventually, her hand only drawing away when Greta finally relaxed into the couch with a deep exhale. 

Carson brought her fingers to Greta’s lips this time, impossibly slippery and nearly dripping. 

“We don’t want to leave any more of a mess, do we?” Carson asked, her pupils dilated and face flushed with exertion as Greta licked over her digits. It was embarrassing how much she had to clean up, and that only seemed to make Carson smile wider before planting the sweetest kiss on her shining lips.  

“Carson-" Greta started, still catching her breath. 

“Shh, just take a second,” Carson said, straightening up and adjusting her clothes as she gazed down at the display beneath her. “You don’t have to say anything.” 

Greta nodded and readjusted her garments as well, despite the state of her underwear, and reached for her blouse. Her head felt completely empty, buzzing with nothing but euphoria as she ineffectively smoothed her hair.  

“Come see me later, okay? To…talk?” Greta asked, sure that it was time for her to leave. “At the bar, or my place, just text me.” 

“Hey, wait,” Carson said, a light touch landing on Greta’s arm. “I know I got a little, um, intense. Are we, like…okay?” 

Greta laughed at the absurdity of the question, the taste of herself still fresh on her tongue. 

“Yes, silly, I just think I should get out of here before Esti gets back from lunch,” she said, still hyper-aware of the remaining wetness between her legs and the way Carson’s tank top now clung to her sweaty skin. If she stayed, she knew she’d end up on her knees.  

“Better fix your lipstick, at least,” Carson said, looking over Greta like a piece of art that she was proud of.  

Greta rolled her eyes, blushing as she did as she was told. 

“I’ll see you later, then?”  

“Later, Shaw,” Greta answered, demure as ever as she quietly exited the office. 

She barely paid attention as she walked back to her cottage as quickly as possible. Once inside,  against the shut front door like a cliché movie character, complete with a hand clutched over her chest.  

What the fuck have I gotten into?  

Before anything else, she went to freshen up and change her clothes. Next came fixing her hair and makeup, then she finally poured herself a drink to have out on the porch. Her post-sex cigarette was best enjoyed with a slight delay, she discovered. Upon finally reaching for her phone again, she blinked in surprise at the number of messages from Carson. Scrolling quickly through she gleaned that Carson’s supervisor, Beverly, had popped over to the property from their offsite headquarters to check in, she ran into Esti who said not to go into Carson’s office, then waited nearby and saw Greta leave quite hastily and observably disheveled. Instead of texting back, Greta went back inside and called her. 

“Soooo, we don’t get to fool around in your office anymore?” Greta started with a giggle before Carson could say anything. “That’s too bad, it was pretty fun.” 

“It was so irresponsible of me, damn it, and of course it was the one day Beverly happened to show up in the last, like, month,” Carson rambled, half of it seemingly to herself. “And yes, it was fun,” she added as an aside, to which Greta pursed her lips and frowned even though Carson couldn’t see her expression. 

“Just fun…?” Greta asked with a ‘hmph’. 

“Sorry, let me start over: it was the hottest thing that has ever happened to me, and it can’t happen again.” 

“Well, it kind of felt like it happened to me , but I’ll take it,” Greta semi-acquiesced. 

“Greta, I’m being serious,” Carson said, but Greta could hear the softness in her tone despite how anxious she surely was. 

“Sorry, yes, I get it. I’m good at being discreet, if that’s what you want,” the words rolled from her tongue too easily; she’d been a secret enough times to know the drill. 

“That’s not fair to you, though-“  

“It’s not about fairness," Greta interrupted, "it’s about me being able to stay here and you being able to keep a job at the same time,” she said plainly. “I already didn’t plan on making a big show of things between you and I, but it’s not hard for me to play pretend for a while.” 

“Just while Beverly’s on the property,” Carson said, sighing. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t want it to be like this…I feel like a jackass.” 

“Hey, we sort of knew it was a dumb idea to take it that far from the start, right?” 

There was a long pause on the other end, and Greta wondered if Carson had muted herself by accident. 

“Shaw?” 

“Sorry, I just…it sounds like you’ve had this conversation before.” 

Ouch. Was it that obvious?  

Chapter Text

Greta listened to the emptiness following Carson’s words like she’d receive some sort of sign indicating what would be best to say next, but as each second stretched on she knew she’d just have to wing it.

“I don’t mean it in a bitter way,” she said, tucking herself into the corner of the couch and pulling her knees in closely, like she could hide from Carson and herself by becoming smaller. “Saying it was a dumb idea, I mean. But yeah, I guess the situation feels a little familiar.”

“I don’t think it was dumb for us to, like, want each other,” Carson mumbled. “I just got ahead of myself, but I really like you.”

“I really like you, too, and I want to…get to know you better. I’m just scared of making things too complicated for you,” Greta admitted. “That’s kind of my thing, being a complication.”

“Hey, don’t say that about yourself,” Carson said. “It’s a hundred percent my fault for being reckless.”

“I don’t really mind the recklessness, just the consequences,” Greta said, twirling a loose thread on one of the throw pillows beside her. “So if we have to be careful, I’ll be careful.”

“Yeah?” Carson asked, hopeful. “And when we don’t have to be?”

“Then I won’t be,” Greta said easily. “Because I like how it feels to not have to think about it, you know?”

“Absolutely, there’s just some stuff…I don’t know, I just don’t want you to be surprised by anything else,” Carson said. 

“Well, is there anything you need to tell me?” Greta asked. Carson’s tone had sounded a bit mysterious, like she was holding something important right past her throat.

“Sort of? But…I don’t know, I really don’t want to talk about it, so it’s hard.”

“Hm,” Greta hummed in consideration. “It’s whatever you’ve got going on back home, right?”

“In a sense, yeah,” Carson agreed. 

“How much is it going to suck when you finally tell me?” Greta asked, trying to sound breezy even though she was nervous.

“For me, or for you?”

“…Both?” Greta tested, uncertain.

“Hopefully it'll suck more for me,” Carson said, her frown audible. “But seriously, please don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll only worry a little, but I trust you,” Greta said, sighing. “Which is stupid, huh?”

“Only a little,” Carson said, chuckling as she repurposed Greta's words. “I’m sorry again for being so…messy?”

“I’m sorry for being such a handful,” Greta said, unable to keep the blame off of herself.

“That’s what hands are for, though,” Carson said matter-of-factly. 

“Great, now I’m thinking about your hands when I’m supposed to stop thinking about everything you did with them an hour ago,” Greta pouted, though she was glad to feel the residual awkwardness dissipate between them.

“Well, be a good girl and stop thinking about it,” Carson quieted her voice. "Definitely don't think about my fingers--"

“Carson!” Greta giggled, already feeling reassured that they’d be able to pick up where they left off once things had cooled down with Carson's supervisor. “Seriously, though, should we have some rules or something until you’re not under surveillance?”

“That would probably be smart,” Carson said, sighing. “Obviously no kissing or anything where people could see, just in case. I probably shouldn’t come over to your place, either.”

“That’s fair, and obviously I’m staying out of your office,” Greta added. “Texting?”

“Texting is totally fine, and I can still call you in the evenings,” Carson said. 

“...Pictures?” Greta asked, biting her bottom lip briefly. “Because I brought a lot of other pretty things I’d like to show you, if you want to see.”

This time Carson’s silence wasn’t stressful, and Greta just blushed.

“I mean, if you’re offering, I would, um, enjoy that,” Carson finally said, and Greta was reminded just how easy it was to fluster her. 

“Perfect,” Greta said, feeling calmed by a list of things she could and couldn’t do. All of her rules felt that way, soothing in their confines, which was why it was still so hard to try to let go of the ones that held her back from what she wanted. “And what do we do if someone wants to break a rule?”

“Like, if I wanted you to come meet me somewhere dark so I can touch you again?” Carson said, her boldness fully recovered. 

“Mhmm,” Greta mumbled in agreement. 

“What was that?” Carson teased. “Speak up.”

“Yes, Shaw, I would come meet you if you wanted to fuck me in secret,” Greta said, glad Carson couldn’t see her as she felt her cheeks heat even more.

“Good girl,” Carson said, and Greta could picture her grin.

“You have to stop saying that, or I’m going to request a rule break within the day,” Greta warned playfully.

“That’s only going to make me say it more,” Carson said, amused. “You like when I tell you what to do, hm?”

“Glad you caught on,” Greta said, her heart beating quickly. “It’s usually me taking charge just because I’m impatient, or I come off like I want to be in control, so it’s nice to have a change.”

It was odd for her to share her preferences, let alone vulnerable ones like the power dynamic she craved, but Carson was asking and her pursuit was honesty even if it made her feel shy. She usually just fit herself into whatever she thought the person she was with wanted, which tended to be someone sassy and demanding and confident. Even though she wasn’t ‘with’ Carson in any official way, she’d already been more open and explorative in the context of her true desires.

“So, you like rules, you like when I enforce them, and you like to be a brat and a flirt so I get frustrated and teach you a lesson?” Carson asked, surely partially for clarity despite her phrasing making Greta feel hot everywhere.

“What are you saying?”

“I just don’t want to have any misunderstandings,” Carson said, her voice lower again. “Because I’ve never really been in the position to, uh, act on that type of thing.”

“But you want to?” Greta asked softly.

“Yeah, I want to, with you.”

Greta smiled, burying her face in her knees for a moment as though Carson could see her all bashful and giddy through the phone.

“Well, you’ve given me plenty to think about until I see you again,” Greta murmured. “I’ll send you something nice tonight, to hold you over.”

“Aw, so generous,” Carson said, and the tension over the phone felt as real as if they were inches apart. 

“Talk to you later,” Greta said, reluctant to hang up. 

“Later, beautiful,” Carson said, hanging up before Greta had a chance to draw out their goodbye. 

She sighed, her mind somehow empty and swirling at once. They still hadn’t committed to anything or defined what they were doing which was both scary and freeing, but something about the conversation felt serious and sure. Maybe she was changing her ways, just a tiny bit, by figuring out what she wanted and pursuing as much instead of being passive and waiting too long to speak up.

After the call ended, Greta felt restless in the silence of her cottage. Half of her was excited about where things might go, but the other half remained snagged uncomfortably on the looming reveal of whatever information Carson kept so close to her chest. Greta liked being the one with secrets, a hidden bombshell always waiting to ruin whatever good thing she had going on whether it was about her job, her habits, or her past. Unsure what to do with herself for the rest of the day, she found herself wandering to the bar, happy to see some familiar faces again once she was inside. 

“Hey, Red!” Lupe exclaimed, waving her over. Greta joined her at a table with Maybelle, brows quirked and curious.

“What’s happening here? You look like you’re plotting something,” she said, greeting Maybelle with a sideways hug. 

“We wanted to go out to grab some food off the property tonight, Jess has to work but we were going to bring Esti and Shirley if they’re up for it since they get off earlier,” Maybelle said, patting the seat next to her for Greta to sit down. 

“What’re you drinking?” Jess called from the bar.

“Oh, could I do a whiskey soda this time?” Greta responded, figuring it wasn’t the worst idea to stick to a theme.

“Rough day, or do you just like whiskey?” Lupe asked.

“Not necessarily rough, but I’m a fan, yes,” Greta answered, suddenly worried that everything that happened was showing on her face.

“Well, we aren’t leaving for a while, so have a couple drinks if you want and I’ll round up the other girls in a bit.”

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do tonight,” Greta said, turning to Maybelle as Lupe got up to grab her drink from the bar.

“Ooh, no plans with you-know-who?” Maybelle asked, leaning closer.

“Well, um, we sort of had ‘plans’ already…”

Maybelle squealed, taking Greta’s hands. 

“When?! Where?!”

“Earlier today,” Greta said, glad Lupe had gotten distracted chatting with Jess.

“She was working all day today, and Beverly’s here,” Maybelle said thoughtfully. “You didn’t go to her place, did you?”

“No, um, somewhere else…it wasn’t actually planned at all, just sort of happened,” Greta hurried to explain, amused by Maybelle’s giddy reaction. “She got in trouble right after, so we’re putting a pause on, um, activities for the time being.”

“God, this is even spicier than my romance novels,” Maybelle sighed. “Sneaking around makes it better sometimes, right?”

“That’s sort of what I was thinking,” Greta said with a grin, holding a finger to her lips playfully as Lupe returned to the table.

“I leave for two seconds and you two are gossiping?” Lupe joked, passing Greta her drink. 

“Just following up on something from earlier,” Maybelle dismissed, bumping Greta’s leg under the table. 

“Seems like an interesting ‘something’, Red’s all red,” Lupe observed, lifting an eyebrow.

“It’s not a big deal,” Greta laughed, taking a sip of her drink in hopes of avoiding further prodding. 

Lupe gave her a lingering look, curious and clearly holding back another comment, but she left the topic alone.

“Is this outfit okay for where we’re going?” Greta asked, mostly directed at Maybelle.

“Definitely, you look hot,” Maybelle nodded, grinning as Lupe cleared her throat.

“It’s a casual place, no need to have a fashion show or anything,” Lupe said, her eyes conspicuously trained on Greta’s neckline. 

It wasn’t like her outfit was anything dramatic, just a decently low-cut blouse and a nice skirt, but with the way Lupe was staring she knew she could definitely tease Carson with some photos to keep her entertained for the night. Once the conversation moved on from Greta’s choice of clothing, she slipped away to the restroom for some privacy.

Sending seductive photos wasn’t necessarily a new activity for Greta, but the context of sneaking around made it more exciting as she locked herself in a stall and turned up the brightness on her phone. She took a few pictures, her tried and true angles coming in handy as she decided to save a few for later in case just one wasn’t enough for Carson. 

Going to dinner with some of the girls tonight 

Want to see my outfit?? xo

Carson started typing almost immediately, Greta’s bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she awaited her response. 

of course I do

who all is going??

Greta sent a photo before answering the question, her cleavage filling the chat window alongside Carson’s frantically bouncing conversation dots as she hurried to ask again who would be there.

It’ll be me, Maybelle, probably Esti and Shirley, plus Lupe :)

She watched as Carson started typing, stopped, then began again.

hope she behaves herself with you looking like that 

I know I wouldn’t be able to

What are you gonna do if she doesn’t? 

idk, ban you from going out without me?

jk

but I’ll be planning things to do to you whether you’re being good or not

Greta grinned, happy to know Carson would be thinking of her while she was out. She sent another photo she’d taken, one that showed the sheer lace of her bra as she tugged her top down rather lewdly, before heading back out to sit beside Maybelle again. She noticed her phone vibrate several times as they sipped their drinks, purposely saving the notifications to check later. It wouldn’t hurt for Carson to miss her a little bit, or for her to wonder what Greta was getting up to for a while. 

They all hung out at the bar until Shirley texted Lupe that she and Esti were ready to go, and the group met up at Lupe’s truck. They piled in, Shirley in the front so she could ‘help with directions’ and the rest squeezing into the back seats with Esti in the middle. 

“There’s a new stop sign in about a mile, just so you know,” Shirley warned once they were on the road, earning a groan from Lupe.

“I know, Shirl, I drive into town all the time,” she reminded her. “You don’t even have a car, why do you know that?”

“I was helping Carson on an errand the other day, and I was already going to make a call about a pothole I noticed so I was looking out for any other public safety concerns,” Shirley answered matter-of-factly. “Although, a stop sign isn’t necessarily a concern , at least that’s what Carson said…”

“She can be a bitch, huh?” Lupe laughed, and Greta bristled slightly despite how lighthearted the comment was.

“Carson’s nice, you’re just obsessed with her,” Maybelle teased. “Seriously, you talk about her more than anyone.”

“We’re friends, I can say she’s a bitch if I want to,” Lupe dismissed. “And I’m not obsessed with her, I talk about everybody!”

“Have you been talking about me, too, then?” Greta asked, catching Lupe’s gaze in the rear view mirror before looking out the window instead, suddenly embarrassed for asking.

“Of course, but only nice things,” Lupe said. “It’s kind of hard not to mention a total smoke show popping up at the resort, you know?”

“Oh, stop,” Greta said, trying to conceal the smile in her voice. 

“Why, is your girl going to get mad at me again?” Lupe countered her coyness.

“My girl?” Greta asked, brows raised. She could feel the look Maybelle shot her way despite Esti sitting between them, mostly oblivious. 

“Ah, so she isn’t?”

The car was silent for a moment; Greta didn’t want to break any of the promises she’d just made about keeping things under the radar for the time being, but she also didn’t want to seem too available considering Lupe’s open interest.

“I’m just enjoying my vacation,” Greta said simply, shrugging. 

Lupe smirked at her through the mirror and she rolled her eyes, glad for another road-related comment from Shirley to change the subject.

“Lu, if you have any more to drink at dinner, you should let someone else drive back,” Shirley said, turning in her seat to address the back row. “Esti, have you been practicing?”

“Yes, but Jess keeps saying I’m going to kill somebody,” Esti said, exasperated. "I don't see the big deal…"

“Shirley should drive back, I’m trying to get drunk tonight,” Maybelle said, giggling.

“For the record, Shirl, I would never drive all you beautiful people around without a clear head,” Lupe said, waving a hand. “And nobody was even going to ask the two princesses back there to drive, anyway.”

“What, so I’m not a princess?” Esti pouted. 

“You just said you might kill everyone, kid,” Lupe responded with the patience of a parent.

“So? Princesses can kill people.”

The rest of the ride was uneventful, mostly Esti poking at Lupe until she complimented her sufficiently, and Greta diligently avoided her handful of notifications from Carson until they got inside the restaurant. It was a charming place, dimly lit with a decent number of booths and high tables, and the group made their way to the bar section before selecting a spot and looking over the provided menus. 

“The server’s cute,” Lupe asked once the cheerful woman left them to decide on their food orders after taking down their drinks. “Maybe I should get her number.”

 Maybelle rolled her eyes, stirring her ice water idly. 

“Did you come here just to flirt?” she asked.

“Maybe I did,” Lupe said smugly, her eyes flicking to Greta who tried to seem deeply enthralled by the menu options as she checked her messages from Carson under the table.

jesus Greta

so hot I wish I could have kept you to myself tonight

I want to take it all off of you

every second you don’t respond I’m just picturing my hands on you

and I’m hoping that you’re being a good girl for me 

Greta bit her bottom lip as she scanned the string of correspondence, stirring with excitement already at this new energy between them. 

I’ll let you know if I do something bad…

Promise

good

then I can think about how I’ll handle it

have fun

Oooh, ‘handle it’? Now I kind of want to misbehave

Talk later xo 

Greta smiled as she tucked her phone away, hoping to shake the warm, buzzing feeling from her mind as she tried to reabsorb into the group’s conversation.

“Who’s making you smile so much?” Esti asked almost immediately, foiling Greta’s attempt at being sly.

“Oh, just my friend back home,” Greta answered quickly, earning a nudge from Maybelle as Esti giggled.

“Platonic friend?” Lupe asked, brows raised.

“Yes, but would it matter if she wasn’t?” Greta countered.

“I’m just trying to figure out how many girls are after you, that’s all,” Lupe admitted, gazing at her across the table, completely shameless. 

Greta hummed in consideration, taking a sip of water to stall before responding.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble, then, hm?” she asked, Shirley already diverting the others’ attention to discuss the most efficient way to order appetizers.

“Why would you be in trouble if you’re not seeing anyone?” Lupe teased. “Answering to someone who won’t claim you is pretty generous.”

“It’s complicated,” Greta shrugged, ignoring how the insinuation of Carson claiming her made something thrum deep in her abdomen.

“Yeah, I bet it is,” Lupe said, her tone knowing.

“It’s sweet of you to worry about me, though,” Greta added, smirking. 

“Oh, I’m not worrying. You just look really good tonight, and I was debating if I should say so or not.”

Greta blushed, her eyes widening slightly as Lupe nudged her foot under the table, like an invitation to play. 

“It’s not uncouth to pay a lady a compliment,” Greta mumbled, slightly flustered.

“Who said I give a damn about being polite?” 

The thought had definitely crossed Greta’s mind that Lupe didn’t seem to care particularly much for vague boundaries, but if anything she was operating in a similar way. If nothing was defined, rules could only extend so far. Luckily, their server reappeared to deliver their drinks and interrupted whatever slippery slope Greta was testing the proximity of. Shirley took over ordering some food to start as Greta eyed Lupe curiously, unsure how playful her competitive flirtations actually were. She knew Carson wanted her, and she knew Carson felt territorial when Lupe was involved, but the contrarian in her just couldn’t make it all make sense. She still had to hide her somewhat confusing feelings for Carson from everyone while somebody else was clearly interested in getting to know her better, and in any other version of reality she'd go with the easy option. In this case, she wanted to be good and follow the guidelines she was given, but the attention from Lupe didn’t feel bad…

“So, Greta,” Shirley broke through her wandering thoughts once the server left again, “what brought you out to Peaches?”

“I needed a vacation,” Greta started, and as everyone’s eyes locked on her she realized they probably wanted a juicier answer. “There was some drama back in California, so I just needed a change of scenery and some time with different people to recalibrate, I guess.”

“And you’re having fun so far?” Esti asked, intrigued. “What happened back home?”

“It’s probably private, you can’t just ask everyone’s business,” Maybelle admonished gently, but Greta shook her head.

“It’s fine, really, I don’t mean to be so cagey," Greta amended. "I'm definitely having a nice time here so far, and back at home I just couldn't balance work and relationships with my health and everything. I had a pretty shitty situation happen with, uh, an ex, and the people who care about me thought it would be best if I got away for a while."

"Well, I'm so happy that you're here. You're really nice," Esti said. 

"Aw, thank you," Greta responded earnestly. "You're all really nice, too. I don't think I've been welcomed like this anywhere in my life."

"Really?" Shirley asked. "But you seem so… confident."

"I'm a decent actress," Greta shrugged, taking a sip of her drink. 

The conversation shifted to general questions about what it was like living in Los Angeles, Greta falling comfortably into her auto-pilot list of fun facts and mental filing cabinet of interesting anecdotes as she noticed Lupe nudging her foot again under the table. She wasn't even looking at Greta, seemingly paying attention to Maybelle's mostly-inaccurate description of Hollywood, so she thought it might have been an accident this time. When it happened again, though, she figured Lupe was trying to distract her on purpose. She nudged back, running the front of her shoe just slightly up the side of Lupe's calf with the slightest tilt of her head. 

"It's not like there are huge movie stars everywhere you go, but it's not that hard to run into famous people," Greta said, pushing her foot a bit higher as she watched Lupe's cheeks flush. 

"I'm gonna grab a smoke before the food gets here," Lupe announced during the next lull. "Red, cigarette?"

"Sure," Greta said, standing from her seat and smoothing her skirt. 

"I have plenty on me, you can leave your purse," Lupe said, motioning for Greta to follow her. 

"What's with the footsie?" Greta asked when they were outside, brow raised as Lupe lit a cigarette at her own lips before passing it to her and grabbing one for herself. 

"I don't know what you mean," Lupe said cheekily. 

"You want my attention, or something?" Greta tried to sound more accusatory than flirty, but she wasn't sure if her tone was correct.

"Of course I do," Lupe admitted. "And I'm not trying to be a jerk, I just think you should do what you want to do whether Ms. Shaw approves or not."

"I don't disagree," Greta said delicately, taking a drag of her cigarette, "but I'm still figuring things out."

"Well, if you need help figuring them out, I won't tell," Lupe said, leaning into the nearby wall. 

"What exactly does your help look like, Lupe?" Greta asked, stepping closer to her.

She was taken by surprise as Lupe reached her free hand to cup her cheek, swiping her thumb over Greta's red lips. 

"Whatever you want, doll," she murmured, grinning and dropping her hand as Greta blushed. "But I won't do anything until you say so."

"I appreciate the offer," Greta nearly whispered, actively avoiding looking at Lupe's lips. 

"It'll stand as long as you're in town," Lupe said, self-assured.

They finished smoking in silence, Greta moving to lean beside Lupe against the wall with their shoulders touching and her mind absolutely befuddled. When it was time to go inside, Lupe reached for Greta's hand and gave it a wordless squeeze before heading back to their table. 

It was easier to distract herself from Lupe's dangerous teasing once she got into a conversation with Maybelle about her own life, having sat back down just as she mentioned her kids. 

"Isn't she a MILF?" Esti asked the table, to which Lupe nearly choked on her beer and Shirley raised a hand in protest. 

"I don't think you know what that means," Lupe said, shaking her head with a laugh.

"You don't know what I know," Esti poked her tongue out defiantly, then leaned toward Greta like she was sharing a secret. "It means she's a very hot mom."

"Yes, thank you," Greta said, laughing as well. "Who are the kids staying with while you're on vacation?" Greta asked Maybelle, genuinely curious about her life outside of the resort. 

"They're with their father. We separated last year but he's a good dad, I just don't like men," Maybelle said with an easy shrug. 

"Well, I'm glad they've got two good parents. That's pretty rare," Greta said, smiling. "How old are they?"

Greta had always thought she'd be a terrible mother, at least at the place she was in life currently, so it was nice to hear from someone who truly loved being a mom. As Maybelle described her children, all their interests and hobbies and little quirks, she felt a melancholic longing that was hard to place. Maybe it was that she wished someone like Maybelle could have raised her, someone who was encouraging and kind instead of strict and oppressive, or maybe it was that she didn't think she'd ever have the energy or stability to take care of anyone besides herself. Either way, it changed her perspective on her new friend, and she was grateful to know more about why she felt so comfortable around her. 

"Hey, did you order shots while we were gone?" Lupe asked as the server approached the table again, appetizers along with a tray of tiny glasses in tow. 

"May said she intended to get drunk, so I thought this was an efficient plan," Shirley said. "We got apple juice for Esti, so she's not left out," she added.

As drinks were distributed and food placed at either end of their table, Greta felt a nostalgic familiarity, like how she used to feel with old friends before everything in her life got too dark and twisted and she decided to close herself off from being known, or having honest fun with anyone besides Jo. She made a silent toast to things getting better as she tossed her shot back, letting Esti serve something fried and crispy onto her plate and dipping her head to lean onto the top of Maybelle's for a moment.

"You okay?" Maybelle asked quietly, patting her knee. 

"Yeah, I think that's the problem," Greta smiled, hoping things could stay pleasant for longer than just tonight, or just this trip. Her phone lit up with another message from Carson checking on how the night was going, and knowing she cared so much if she got back safely only added to the bittersweet feeling. The worst thing about being happy was knowing it could all go away as quickly as it came, leaving a gaping hole where there wouldn't have been a void at all if she never got to taste that happiness in the first place.

Chapter Text

Greta had more fun than she expected to at dinner, especially considering the internal conflict and self reflection humming beneath the surface as she tried to open up little by little among her new friends. Even as enjoyable as it was, she was relieved when Shirley dropped her off back at her cottage. She always welcomed a quiet, empty space after being out; it was usually comforting coming home to Jo, too, but some nights after socializing all she wanted to do was decompress alone. No matter how nice of a time she had, how much she made other people laugh, how many compliments she received, she felt like she was performing. The only time she truly took a break and shed all the layers of her curated mask, even the faux free spirited and contradictorily meticulous 'easy going' personality that emerged when she had a few drinks, was in complete solitude. It wasn't like performing felt unnatural to her, that was why it was so challenging to actually turn it off. Every interaction had a little script attached in her mind. If she really wanted to, she could rank her line delivery based on authenticity and audience response, but she knew that people who were much happier than her didn't spend time worrying about themselves like a character constantly competing for some kind of lofty award. She had to constantly remind herself there was no way to win at being a person; just in case, though, she competed anyway.

As she went about her nighttime routine, she peeked at her phone. She'd let Carson know when the group left the restaurant and not heard anything from her after being told to get back safely, wondering if she'd fallen asleep early before those little bouncing dots appeared again in their chat window. She smiled, pleased as though she'd psychically summoned the incoming message. The truth was that she'd kept their conversation open the whole car ride back to the resort. 

are you back? just heard lupe's truck lol

I was just about to ask if you were still up :)

I'm back and getting ready for bed 

Thanks for checking on me, that's very sweet

of course I'll check on you, I like you

Greta felt silly for how easily Carson made her heart flutter, as though 'I like you' was some sort of profound statement, but maybe that was how it should feel. Reassurance meant a lot to her, especially after being lied to countless times by people she thought cared for her, and so far Carson had seemed nothing but honest. 

I like you, too

oh really???

so you're gonna tell me if you did anything naughty, yeah?

Of courseeeee, I promised, right?

Lupe was super flirty at the restaurant

She was playing footsie for a sec and I sort of entertained it

We went for a smoke and she made some suggestive comments, offers maybe

what did you say? and what kind of offers??

Greta already knew she was glossing over quite a bit of the actual content of Lupe's teasing flirtations, so in order to honor Carson's threats regarding bad behavior she decided to see if she'd land in trouble if she was more clear.

Firstly, I told her I appreciated it but that I'm just figuring things out right now

So please don't kill anyone!!

I didn't want to make it a whole thing about you and me

But she definitely wants to sleep with me and is not shy about it

Greta didn't realize how hard her heart was pounding until she set her phone down to change into her skimpy nightgown, releasing a breath she'd held on accident. It felt like the first test of this new dynamic of theirs, and it was exciting even though she was a little nervous. She was worried Carson would feel disrespected or upset with her for not shutting things down more sternly; if that were the case, maybe Greta wasn't cut out for this sort of thing after all. Before she got too wrapped up in 'what-if's, however, Carson responded.

I'm not surprised that Lupe tried something, she can't resist

I don't really blame her when it comes to you, so I still think you're a good girl

but now I'm thinking about how she probably imagines hooking up with you every time she sees you

and that makes me want to fuck you silly until you can only think of me

That makes me feel relieved

And more than a little excited…

were you scared you'd get in trouble?

Kind of, since I played along a little bit

Thank you for saying I'm good

of course, pretty girl

but I do think I want you to do something for me

not a punishment, just something to make sure you can keep following the rules

I'm gonna call you in a second, okay?

Whatever you want, you're the boss

Greta was practically trembling, frozen in her bedroom and tingling head to toe from their exchange. It was exciting now that she knew Carson wasn't really mad, that it turned her on to know someone else wanted Greta badly enough to make a move. 

"Hi," Greta said softly, answering before her phone even started vibrating. 

"Hey, you," Carson said. "Why so quiet? Are you being shy now?"

"Kind of," Greta laughed, sitting at the edge of the bed when she remembered how to use her limbs again. "But it's just because I don't know what you're going to make me do."

"Aw, that's cute," Carson teased. "Are you dressed for bed?"

"Yes," Greta confirmed, her free hand tracing the lace of her nightgown that rested on her thighs. "Want me to describe what I have on, or send a picture?" 

"You can take a picture while you're still talking to me, right?"

"Mhmm," Greta hummed, already swiping to access her camera after putting Carson on speaker. She took a photo, her phone angled downward to show her chest and a bit of her legs, ensuring the lighting was enough to capture the soft cream silk and deep cherry lace of her slip. She sent the picture with her bottom lip between her teeth. It was caught there much more often lately, and she was unusually excited as she waited for Carson to react.

"Oh, wow," Carson murmured, and Greta wished she could see her face. "So pretty, baby, I wish I could be there to see you in person."

"You like it?" Greta asked, enjoying the praise. "I have panties that match, too."

"Are you wearing them?" Carson asked.

"Maybe," Greta answered coyly. 

"Show me," Carson instructed. 

"What if I don't have them on?"

"Then be creative."

Greta felt her cheeks flush; it seemed silly for her to be shy about sending a photo like that when she was used to being naked in front of total strangers all the time for work back at home, but Carson hadn't seen her that way yet despite their office tryst. She still held some level of fear when it came to vulnerability in relationships, some nagging shame about her body and the meaning others tied to the way she chose to show it, but Carson made her feel safe.

"One second," Greta said quietly, arranging herself on the bed so she could test out a couple of angles, the frame of the photo she took cutting off halfway down her neatly trimmed triangle of curls. Her delicate slip was pushed up to her waist, revealing more of her soft skin, and she felt it was somehow more lewd than if she removed the garment altogether. It took her a moment longer to send the picture this time, and she could feel Carson's impatience. 

"You little tease," Carson said upon receiving the picture, her smile clear in Greta's mind. "Are you embarrassed?"

"Only a tiny bit," Greta pouted, tugging her nightie back down before she could become too flustered. "I can't show you everything if you're not going to come touch me tonight."

"Aw, I guess you'll have to touch yourself, then."

Oh.

"While we're on the phone?" Greta asked, already sure of the answer. 

"Yes, because I don't want you going to bed thinking about someone else."

"I wouldn't-"

"I know, pretty girl, but I'm being selfish. That's okay, right?"

"Of course, I'll do whatever you want," Greta said, surprised at her own quickness. 

"And why is that, again?"

Greta hesitated, wondering what Carson wanted her to say, but she realized quickly enough how she was meant to reply. 

"Because you're the boss."

It was exciting to say it out loud, not in a joking or playful way, and she could feel Carson's eagerness from the sound of her breath through the phone.

"You're such a good girl," Carson murmured. "Lay down for me, alright?"

"Mhmm," Greta answered, setting her phone on one of the bed's pillows before lying back and toying with the edge of her slip. "Can you hear me okay?"

"Perfectly," Carson said, followed by some rustling on her end. 

"Where are you right now?" Greta asked, her heart beating quickly.

"I'm in bed, too," Carson said, her tone devilish. "But I'm focusing on you, I can wait."

Greta swallowed, feeling much more shy than she thought she would. Phone sex was never something she explored in depth; back home, her dalliances were more to the tune of a 'come over' text or some photos between dates, but something about a person she was interested in wanting to hear her without being there in the same bed made her shiver in the best way.

"What do you want me to do, Carson?" Greta asked, trying to keep her voice from disappearing into a whisper.

"Pull your nightgown up, like in the picture," Carson started. "Trace your fingers over your skin, think about me touching you."

Greta closed her eyes, letting out a breath as she pushed the silky fabric out of the way, her hands traveling up her taut stomach, then down past her hips, her fingertips grazing her thighs. Her breaths quickened, and she wondered if Carson could tell or if she was too quiet.

"Keep teasing, and spread your legs," Carson said, Greta's fingers still wandering as she let her knees fall apart. 

She continued the trail of her touch over places she'd want Carson's hands.

"Tell me what you're doing," Carson instructed.

Greta swallowed, trying not to stop the movement of her hands at the request.

"I'm touching along my inner thighs," she said, her voice soft. "And up my stomach, over my waist…"

"I wish I could tease you like that right now," Carson said. "How long do you think you can stand it before you have to touch between your legs?"

"As long as you want me to," Greta answered quickly, though she knew she was already excited. 

"Mm, so you'll let me keep telling you what to do until you're all wet and desperate, just waiting for me to let you get off?"

"Is that what you'd like?" Greta asked, eager to obey Carson's wishes.

"Yes, I like when you do what I say," Carson said, her voice low. 

"You're good at being in charge," Greta said, trying to keep her breaths steady as she continued teasing herself, dangerously close to where she craved touch the most. 

"I wish you knew all of the things I want to tell you to do next time I can get you alone," Carson said, and Greta felt a combination of embarrassment and arousal as she considered the fact that Carson spent time fantasizing about her obeying her salacious demands. 

"Could I hear some?" Greta asked quietly, her fingernails raking over her thighs as she tried to ignore the slickness and heat she could feel in such close proximity to her increasingly impatient hands. 

"Mm, I've been thinking a lot about making you strip," Carson shared, smug. "I know you'd do that for me, wouldn't you? Take off all your pretty clothes while I just sit and watch you, then pull you onto my lap and have you while I'm fully dressed?"

Greta huffed out a breath, her eyes still shut as she pictured the scene Carson described. 

"Or I could bend you over, would you like that?"

"Yes, Carson," Greta said, unable to keep the whine from her voice. "I'd like it any way you want me, I'm-"

"You're what, baby?"  Carson asked, her tone innocent despite her obvious presumption.  

"I'm so wet it's starting to drip," Greta admitted. "And thinking of you taking me like that is making it worse."

"Aw, you poor thing," Carson said, not a shred of sympathy in her tone. "I guess you don't want to hear about what I'd do to you if you were tied up, or blindfolded…"

"I-," Greta's breath hitched. "I still want to know," she whispered. 

"You little masochist," Carson said warmly. "I'd tie your wrists behind your back and make you get on your knees for me," she continued, "then I'd tell you to use that cute mouth to make me cum, and I wouldn't let you stop until I got to make a mess of your face."

Greta felt dizzy even though she was lying down, dragging her hands up to her chest to toy with her sensitive nipples through the material of her slip. 

"Carson," Greta breathed, somewhat of a plea. "Please, can I…do something, I just need to touch-"

"Not yet," Carson cut her off. "What are you doing now that has you so worked up?"

"Listening to you has me worked up," Greta mumbled, a bit bratty. "But I'm touching through my slip, just, um, pinching a little bit," she said, her voice shaking slightly. 

"Oh, that's adorable," Carson praised, though she sounded mischievous. "I bet you're squirming, just dying for some more, hm?"

"Yes," Greta exhaled. 

"Yes, what?"

Greta's mind was fuzzy, but the words found her anyway

"Yes, boss," she whispered, sheepish at how it made her stomach tighten just to speak in such a way. It always felt silly when they were bantering back and forth, but after referring to Carson that way during an intimate moment it felt dirty, which only made her wetter.

"Mm," Carson hummed. "You've kept your legs open this whole time, right?"

"I have," Greta confirmed, "and I feel like you can see me, even though you can't."

"I wish I could," Carson said. "I'd put a camera in front of your bed and record you right now if I had the chance.

Greta trembled at the salacious suggestion, moving her hands back down to her thighs, digging her nails lightly into her skin and squeezing her eyes shut more tightly. 

You can be good, you can resist just a little longer, even if she wouldn't know…

"You're so quiet…are you thinking about me watching you like that, just lying spread open and soaked for my entertainment?"

"Mhmm," Greta barely managed, biting her bottom lip hard just for the distraction. The thought of Carson looking at her in such a vulgar way, recording her so she could watch her delicious torture over again later, made her throb with desire. 

"You've been patient, I think you can touch," Carson said, suspenseful as Greta anticipated a cruel caveat, "but I don't think you should be allowed to play with your clit right away."

"Carson," Greta whined in earnest. "Please, that's so-"

"What? Mean ?" Carson asked. "Remember why I'm doing this, you were being naughty earlier. I could be meaner, but I'm actually being very generous since you let someone else get it in her head that she might have a chance."

Greta let out a 'hmph', and regretted it instantly.

"Are you pouting?" Carson asked, her tone near a scoff.

"No," Greta replied unconvincingly, her hand still hovering near her center as they negotiated.

"Such a greedy girl, wanting everyone's attention with no consequences," Carson teased. "Go ahead, touch yourself, but don't you dare think about her."

Greta resisted the urge to point out that mentioning ' her ' multiple times made the thought all the more inviting, instead sliding her fingers through her wetness with a shuddering exhale.

"Feel good?" Carson asked, smug as Greta whimpered her response.

"I need more," Greta mumbled, barely dipping two fingers inside, unsure if she was allowed to go further. 

"More what, sweetheart? Speak up," Carson replied. 

"I need to go inside, please," Greta tried not to beg, but that's what it sounded like. 

"Fuck yourself for me, then," Carson said simply. 

Greta didn't wait for her to finish the sentence before she obliged, simultaneously relieved and even more desperate as she arched against the bed.

"I swear I can tell how wet you are over the phone," Carson whispered. 

With a moan, Greta pushed deeper, went faster, to ensure Carson could hear what she was doing to herself. 

"Naughty girl," Carson said, a grin in her voice once more. "You want me to hear, don't you? Making a mess all over the nice bedding?"

"God, I wish you were here," Greta breathed, her thumb grazing her clit only half-accidentally. 

"I wouldn't have been as patient as you," Carson said. "Probably wouldn't have even made it to the bed after seeing you dressed like that…I'd fuck you against the wall, with the flowery wallpaper."

Something about Carson being able to perfectly picture her room made Greta even more excited; it really did feel like she was being watched, and it surprised her how thrilling that was. 

For a few minutes, Carson just listened and offered soft praises as Greta continued in her shameless self-pleasuring, increasing the number of fingers inside of her to three, but it was getting harder and harder to resist rubbing herself to her precarious climax.

"You've been so good, Greta," Carson said. "I'll let you cum for me, but you have to do one more thing first, okay?"

"Anything, please," Greta agreed hastily, slipping her fingers out of her warmth and swirling them over her clit. She was already so close, having barely achieved any friction at all.

"Taste yourself, get your fingers all clean," Carson instructed, her own request sounding shier than all her previous words.

"Oh, god," Greta whined, switching hands quickly so she could keep swiping tight circles over her clit as she brought her slickened digits to her lips.

She slid the first finger into her mouth, humming a muffled 'mm' so Carson would know she was following directions, before sucking it clean. She repeated the action with the other two, her stomach tightly coiled as she pushed into her own touch.

"Such a sweet girl, I can't wait to taste you again," Carson said, her own breath sounding heavy. 

"I'm right there," Greta said between her own panting, having finally completed her task and resting her spit-covered fingers on her stomach. 

"You can do it, baby, cum for me. Be good," Carson coaxed, and it was as though she knew the exact words to say, ones Greta never liked to ask for but loved to hear. 

She pushed past her usual tendency to stifle her noises as she came, knowing Carson wanted to hear all her gasps and moans, and let out a high whine of relief as she moved against her fingers. 

"Oh, Carson, fuck, " she whisper-moaned,  picturing her above her, fucking  her like she was doing to herself. 

She lightened her touch, trying to draw her climax out with soft whimpers here and there until she couldn't take the feeling anymore. She eventually relaxed back into the bed with a sigh and drew her hand away from her center, humming with satisfaction as Carson finally responded.

"Wow," was all she said, at first. 

"Yeah?" Greta asked, still embarrassed but less shy now that she could curl on her side, grinning toward her phone. 

"Yeah, fuck," Carson said, accompanied by a soft laugh. "I knew you'd do what I said, but…your sounds," she continued, somewhat dazed.

"Well, I had to be quiet in your office, I couldn't let you hear everything then," Greta said, glad to have offered Carson a new memory of her. "Did I make you wet?"

"Of course, the whole time," Carson affirmed. "I can't stop thinking about the next time I get to be with you, it's going to make waiting even harder."

"That's your own fault for punishing both of us, then," Greta teased. "What are you gonna do about it?

"Look at your pictures and get off before I go to sleep," Carson said with another quiet laugh. "Before I do something stupid, like sneak into your place."

"Ooh, that sounds nice, though," Greta said, pickering up her phone as she adjusted to lay under the covers. "Then I could help you, and we could cuddle after…"

"Greta, stop," Carson said, exaggeratedly pained. 

"It's your fault, you made me…do all that, now my brain doesn't work and I just want to see you," Greta pouted.

"I know, I know," Carson said. "So I should probably let you go, so you can rest…and I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay," Greta acquiesced. "And maybe we can sneak a kiss?"

"No promises, but I'd like that," Carson said. "Goodnight, Greta."

"Goodnight, Carson," Greta returned, sighing as she hung up the call and she was left in silence once again. 

Tiredness hit Greta rather quickly, which she was grateful for, and despite her urge to text Carson for more attention before drifting off, she put her phone on the nightstand and fell asleep. 

♡ 

The next morning was slow for Greta; there weren't any planned activities that she knew of for the day, and the very nice ending to her night led to a pretty heavy sleep. She rose later than usual, taking her time to get half-ready and emerging onto the porch in her robe with a mug of coffee as she debated ordering breakfast or just waiting until lunch. She noticed upon checking her notifications that there were several new messages from Jo, but she didn't want to respond at the moment. 

You said you were going to behave yourself, and then immediately slept with the person you were supposed to 'take it slow' with. Dumbass.

She shook the thought away, unsure if she was talking to herself or if that was what she imagined Jo would say, but either way she wasn't in the mood for another lecture. The more she thought about it, the more confused she felt; was it really her best friend's business how she went about sex and relationships? Did she actually need protection from her own choices to such a degree, or was it a bit overbearing? She could see both sides, which made the whole internal conversation more irritating. Yes, she'd fucked up in the past, but she'd also been fucked over , and sometimes she was just being irresponsible because self-sabotage was historically easier than waiting for someone else to become disappointing. 

As she contemplated, she lit a cigarette; it was better to consciously choose a little bit of long-term suffering in exchange for temporary pleasure than to deny herself everything enjoyable…right? Just as she took a drag, she heard a pair chatting loudly down the road. Lupe and Jess soon came into view, strolling in her direction.

"Hey, Red," Lupe greeted as she got closer, waving. 

"Hey," Greta waved back with her free hand, tilting her head. "Do you guys usually walk over here?"

"No, she's stalking you," Jess said before Lupe could answer. "After you got dropped off last night, she was texting me like 'let's go by tomorrow'-"

"Would you shut up?" Lupe slapped Jess playfully on the shoulder, but was clearly a bit flustered.

"Aw, you missed me that much, huh?" Greta asked, very aware of Lupe's eyes wandering over her thin robe. 

"Just wanted to come by and see what you're up to today," Lupe said, shrugging and running a hand back through her hair. 

"So far, just this," Greta said honestly. "I'm not even sure yet if I'll get dressed, could be a lazy day..."

"I mean, it's a nice outfit," Lupe said, grinning. "But you should put real clothes on and come hang out later, we're having a picnic and doing games at the park near the bar."

"Who is 'we', and are the games…athletic?" Greta asked, taking another drag of her cigarette. 

Lupe plucked the cigarette from between Greta's fingers, took a puff herself, then replaced it without breaking her stare. 

"Usual gang, everyone from last night except Esti because she's working, Jess is gonna do pitchers of beer and margaritas so she doesn't have to serve from inside, Carson's nosy ass will probably show up instead of doing her job, probably some other guests who don't make it to all the nighttime stuff…"

Greta could tell Lupe was trying to notice her reaction to Carson being mentioned, so she purposely kept her expression steady before giving a thoughtful nod. 

"Sounds good, as long as the margaritas aren't too sweet," she said, smiling. 

"I'll make a batch with less mix just for you," Jess said, laughing. "And what do you have against athletics, huh?"

"Oh, nothing, I'm actually pretty good at some sports myself…but most of the clothes I brought are more appropriate for sitting and observing."

"Nobody will mind if you just want to sit there and look pretty, as long as you show up," Lupe said. "We'll be set up by 2:30, picnic food and I'll grill if there are enough people," she continued. 

"Alright, I'll see you there. Thanks for the personal invite," Greta said. 

"It's more fun than getting your number, but I'll grab that later," Lupe said, offering a wink before motioning to Jess to head out.  

Morning, Shaw :)

Was finally up and out of bed and having some coffee (something knocked me out last night???)

Then Lupe and Jess showed up to invite me to the picnic thing later

Are you going? Xo

good morning, gorgeous

glad you slept well ;)

Greta rolled her eyes at the winky face, but she was glad Carson replied so fast, like she was waiting to hear from her. 

I was gonna stop by, I don't have a lot to do today 

did she say anything inappropriate this time?

Nooooo, but they both saw me in my robe

It's cute but I still have something under

ur so adorable with your fancy pajamas and robes

I slept in boxers and a t shirt

I think that's hot

youd look better in them, I know that

Greta laughed, shaking her head as she imagined borrowing Carson's clothes to sleep in. She could hardly picture it, she was always so particular about her clothes, but something about the idea also seemed sweet.

Maybe if you let me sleep over at yours I can borrow a big shirt

She added an emoji with a little halo, hoping it was clear she didn't intend to wear anything underneath, then put her cigarette out and grabbed her coffee mug. Carson's reply came as she picked her phone up.

we can have a sleepover if you're good the next few days

but I might not be able to wait

Ugh, such a tease

See you later!!!!!

With a new invigoration and a desire to catch Carson's eye at the picnic, Greta set off to finish getting ready  for the day. Sure, it was tempting to catch Lupe's eye, too, but she'd rather get more attention from the person who helped her feel so good multiple times on this trip so far than try and divert to another pursuit. Even then, the idea of the both of them fantasizing about her wasn't unappealing; she knew it was bad, of course, but neither had to know she wasn't being completely good in the first place.

Chapter Text

Greta looked herself over in the mirror, arranging her neatly curled hair and pursing her lips. She might have overdone her look for a simple picnic, but she'd already said she wasn't necessarily attending to play around in the grass. Her blouse was semi-sheer, partially buttoned and tied up at her waist, and the skirt she chose was tasteful in length but still hugged her legs in a way she was sure would draw some eyes. This part of her performance for other people was actually enjoyable; she had a goal, she knew how to achieve it, and she genuinely enjoyed certain attention. The times it got hard were when she knew what to do and how to get the 'correct' reaction, but she didn't actually like the process or the audience. Adding extra mascara and pouting her lips in the mirror to go flirt with women who she knew found her delightful was fun and validating, while posing at an angle where she knew her boobs looked good and her stomach looked flat for college students to analyze and draw her was just…empty. Auditioning for projects fell somewhere in-between; some roles felt perfect for her, comfortable and fun, opportunities to express herself in a new context, but sometimes she felt instantly demeaned by the casting breakdowns she received in the first place; 'busty, loud, flirty, boisterous redhead' was overdone and frustrating by now, but she knew how to go on auto-pilot and book a stupid innuendo-laden commercial for the extra paycheck. 

Maybe if you didn't lean in to being a stereotype, you wouldn't keep getting sent out for the same bullshit.

She shook her thoughts away, smoothing the front of her skirt and spraying on her perfume like the sweet, cherry-laced scent would block her bitter self-critiques for the rest of the day. It worked long enough, at least, for her to put on her shoes and grab her purse so she could head over to the park. It was gorgeous outside, and the walk to the park was pleasant. Though she missed some of the chaos of the city, it was nice to stroll around without being enshrouded in noise and distractions. 

"There she is!" Lupe greeted as Greta approached the park, sauntering over to her with a red cup of beer already in hand. 

Greta tried not to be obvious as she peered over Lupe's shoulder, looking for Carson. She spotted her in the grass, deeply invested in a game of corn hole, and smiled widely enough for Lupe to chuckle.

"She's pretending like she wasn't waiting for you to get here," Lupe said. "Come on, let's get you a drink."

Greta followed Lupe over to one of the picnic tables, allowing her to pour her a generous cup. 

"If it's too sweet, you can slap me," Lupe said, holding out the cup with a grin.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Greta teased, accepting the drink and taking a sip.

Lupe raised an expectant eyebrow, watching as Greta pursed her lips. 

"It's nice and strong, no slap for you."

Lupe put on an exaggerated pout, and Greta gave her cheek a pinch before heading over to where Carson was still finishing up her game. She stood a few feet away, flagrantly gazing at her as she sipped her margarita. Carson's arms were tan and she was wearing another stupid tank top that showed the sides of her sports bra, her shorts some kind of athletic (or possibly swimming) situation that didn't match at all but looked good on her anyway. When she finally lost to her opponent, someone Greta hadn't met yet, she took off her baseball cap to run a hand back through her hair before turning in Greta's direction.

"Hey, you," Carson said, succeeding at sounding casual enough as she walked over. 

"Hey," Greta said, shamelessly looking Carson over. 

They stared at each other for a moment, awkward only because they'd still meant to keep a low profile until Beverly left. All Greta could think about was trying to sneak away, craving the feeling of Carson's hands on her, her mouth on her…she took another sip from her cup, then tilted her head. 

"Want me to get you a beer?" she asked, nodding over toward the drink table. "You looked like you were really exerting yourself just now, getting your ass beat at…hole-whatever."

"I swear I'm actually really good at throwing things," Carson said, grinning. "But yeah, sure. That's very… polite of you."

"I'm just trying to show my appreciation," Greta said innocently before dropping her voice. "You've been so hospitable, and it's great that you spend time getting to know the guests, playing with us..."

"Greta," Carson chuckled, looking away. "Later," she added quietly.

Greta let out a little 'hmph', mostly pleased with herself for getting Carson flustered already, then pranced off to get her a beer. 

"Greta!" Maybelle called as Greta picked up a pitcher, pouring a generous cup for Carson.

Greta set the pitcher down, opening her arms to wrap Maybelle in a hug.

"I'm glad you're here," Maybelle said, hugging her back. "Any new gossip about you and you-know-who?"

Greta laughed, pulling away and shaking her head. 

"Not really, just playing it cool so she doesn't get in trouble with the boss," Greta said quietly. "Oh, but we did have, like, phone sex after I went to dinner with everyone."

Maybelle's eyes widened and she smacked Greta's shoulder. 

"You freak! If anything I sort of thought you and Lupe…?"

"Nothing actually happened, she was just hitting on me," Greta shrugged. "She looks good today, though."

"You're crazy," Maybelle giggled.

"Just being honest," Greta said, grinning. "Anyway, I'm bringing Carson a beer in a very non-flirtatious way, then I'm going to go sit and pretend to behave myself. Want to join me?"

"Yeah, I spy a table with our names on it," Maybelle said, moving to pour herself a drink as Greta walked back over to Carson with their respective drinks in either hand. 

"Your beverage, boss," Greta said, holding out the plastic cup with a playful smile. 

Carson accepted it, a warning look in her eyes as Greta tilted her head and pouted her lips.

"Watch it," Carson said, her expression faltering in favor of a smile as Greta drew a hand to her chest in mock offense. 

"I haven't the slightest idea what you could possibly think I'm here to do besides spend a nice day outside with my lovely platonic friends and my favorite authority figure," Greta said, grinning as Carson rolled her eyes.

"You're here to cause trouble, and you should know you won't get what you want if you're not careful," Carson said, shrugging and taking a sip of her beer. 

"I've never caused trouble a day in my life, you've got the wrong girl," Greta said, letting her gaze linger on Carson a moment longer before quickly turning to go find Maybelle again.

"I could feel the tension from a mile away," Maybelle teased once Greta joined her, laughing. "Lupe was watching you, too."

"Oh, was she? Didn't notice," Greta said as she sat down across from Maybelle, which was half-true. She figured Lupe's eyes would be on her all day, but any time she spoke to Carson it felt like they were in a bubble all their own, even just for a moment. 

Maybelle began unpacking her bag onto the table, her usual flask making an appearance in addition to a tupperware of cupcakes and some other snacks. Greta took a long sip of her margarita, intending to make the most of free drinks and a beautiful day outside. It seemed everyone was already bored of playing corn hole after Carson's last round, Lupe helping to move the setup out of the way before reappearing in view with a baseball glove. 

"I should have known all these lesbians just, like, have sports equipment," Maybelle said, watching as others produced gloves out of thin air."

"Would you believe I played back in high school?" Greta asked. 

Maybelle exaggerated her shock for a moment before bursting into giggles.

"So did I, actually, but not anymore."

"Same," Greta said, grinning. "It's way more fun to watch, anyway."

Greta only felt a little bit bad for ignoring everyone in the game of catch besides Carson and Lupe; she couldn't help where her eyes were drawn, especially since they were acting like catch was especially competitive. 

"We should heckle them," Maybelle suggested after a few minutes of observing the other women's rowdiness. "We aren't getting enough attention."

"You're so right," Greta agreed, reaching for Maybelle's flask after she took a sip and having one herself. 

They waited until Lupe missed a catch, standing up from where they sat so they could huddle in co-conspiracy. 

"You're kidding me!" Maybelle shouted dramatically as the ball rolled across the grass. "That was an easy one, I could have caught it with my eyes closed!"

"I'd call you 'butterfingers' but your fingers didn't even get close!" Greta added, giggling as Lupe whipped around to face them. 

"On what authority are you making these claims, ladies?" Lupe challenged.

"On the authority of extremely renowned former baseball players!" Greta taunted.

Lupe laughed, shaking her head. 

"I genuinely can't picture that, but alright," she said, picking up the ball.

Lupe threw to Carson next, purposely showing off, but Carson didn't flinch.

"That's what I'm talking about, boss!" Greta cheered, earning a slap on the arm from Maybelle. Carson looked at her sharply, and Greta felt her stomach clench as the way her eyes scanned over Greta, her head cocked. It felt like a warning, possibly a threat.

"Sorry, I mean Mrs. Shaw!" Greta corrected, laughing through her words. She could practically see Carson biting her tongue, resisting the urge to say something back that would frustrate her, too. 

She and Maybelle eventually grew tired of bothering the women as they played, satisfied with their light bullying as they sat back down. It was good timing, because it looked like they were all about to take a break, anyway. 

"Want to share a cupcake?" Greta asked Maybelle, tossing a look beside her as she half-faced Maybelle on the bench. 

"You read my mind," Maybelle said, grabbing one carefully, unpeeling the wrapper and holding it out to Greta. Greta leaned forward, knowing both Carson and Lupe were still eyeing her, and dug two fingers into the frosting. She held up her fingers, giving the frosting an inspection, then brought her hand to her lips.

Maybelle tossed her head back in laughter as Greta shoved her fingers into her mouth, sucking them hard, hollowing her cheeks with a loud moan. She pulled them out slowly when they were clean, then leaned for a hands free bite of the cake before reaching for a napkin.

"You're ridiculous," Maybelle said, shaking her head. Greta just shrugged, drying her fingers.

" I was just going to bite it in the first place," Maybelle said, grinning as she did just that. 

"I think I might want a cupcake," Lupe said, sidling over, her eyes not moving from Greta's face, her mouth. "But my hands are all dirty," she added, frowning but somehow suggestive. Carson loomed behind her, far enough away to not seem like a stalker but definitely watching.

"Here," Greta said, picking up a cupcake for Lupe, the same fingers she just sucked clean peeling the wrapper off for her as Lupe bent down to eye level with her. "Open," she said sweetly, flicking her tongue over her lips and blinking at the woman in front of her. 

Lupe rolled her eyes, opening her mouth, then leaning forward to lick a stripe through the frosting, curling her tongue. Greta could feel herself blushing, still holding the treat as Lupe got dangerously close to her mouth before pulling back. Lupe then grabbed a paper plate, smirking as she held it out. "I just realized I could use a fork, my bad," she said, throwing Greta a wink before walking off. 

"Greta!" Maybelle whisper-screamed. "Oh my god, Carson's coming."

Maybelle excused herself, mumbling something about grabbing them refills as Carson approached the table. 

"What the hell was that?" Carson asked leaning a knee on the bench beside Greta.

"Aren't you supposed to be avoiding me right now?" Greta asked. "You've been staring at me all day."

"I don't care, Bev left half an hour ago to go harass someone else," Carson said. "What's your angle, babydoll?" she asked. "Trying to make me mad?"

"Maybe," Greta said. "Or maybe I want a sleepover before your boss leaves, because I'm impatient."

"Greta," Carson murmured. "That is a terrible idea, and I'm sure you know that," she said. "What happened to trying to be good?"

"I don't know," Greta said. "I guess it's hard not having you remind me to behave," Greta said, pouting. 

"You are such a fucking brat," Carson said, flicking Greta on her exposed thigh.

"Ow! Rude," Greta said. "Are you just going to lecture me because I ate part of a cupcake, boss, or do you have something else to say?"

"You did not 'just eat a cupcake', and you know that," Carson said. "You flirted with her the whole time, she almost kissed you."

"You're so jealous, as if I wasn't just doing it to get your attention," Greta said, sighing. "I feel kind of bad about how easy it is to get you all fired up like this, you know. You don't even make me work for it," Greta said, pressing happily at Carson's buttons, knowing she wouldn't do anything too crazy in front of the other guests.

"I think you should head back to your cottage," Carson said. "Now."

"You're really going to send me to my room?" Greta asked, laughing. 

"You could sit in the living room, if you want," Carson shrugged. "But if you don't go, I won't come by later," Carson said simply. "And you don't get a sleepover either way, I'm just going to leave."

Greta's heart pounded at the shift in Carson's tone, the look in her eyes, the way her voice rasped as she went on. 

"Your other option is to stay here, act like a slut, and I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe."

"Fine," Greta mumbled, picking up her nearly-finished drink from before Maybelle ran off and swallowing it as quickly as she could. 

"Fine?" Carson asked, watching her. "Try again."

"Yes, boss," she whispered.

"Good girl. Now go, " Carson said, turning away like nothing happened and jogging over to help set up the next activity. 

Maybelle stopped Greta by her shoulder as she was on her way back to the table. 

"It worked, but I've been banished," Greta said quietly. 

"You'd better text me all about it," Maybelle replied, handing Greta her fresh drink. "Take it for the road, at least."

Greta pouted for an audience of nobody as she walked back to her cottage, frustrated but thrumming with some sort of excitement as she paused to take another sip of the drink Maybelle sent her off with. She wasn't mad , but she knew Carson was going to make her wait all day to learn her fate. She had too much fun messing with her, but she knew she was directly contradicting her promises to be good and follow the rules. Carson seemed to enjoy her antics, and perhaps banning her from the rest of the picnic was an exercise in re-establishing dominance, but it left Greta alone with her thoughts and a nagging warmth in her lower abdomen that wouldn't go away. She wouldn't go so far as to do anything about it without Carson, craving her permission despite her contrary behavior, but as she finally made it back to the solitude of her cottage she was restless with anticipation as far as what the night might hold. 

The hours passed slowly, mockingly almost, and Greta had yet to hear from Carson until the sun had long set. She'd spent the rest of the afternoon pretending to read and not paying much attention to any of the words, starting a journal entry that didn't go anywhere, and listening to music as she tried to distract herself from the fluttering in her stomach. She nearly leapt from the couch as her phone finally buzzed with a notification. 

heading your way, my bad girl

turn off ur porch light

Ooh, so sneaky

I put on pajamas 

cute how you think you'll be wearing anything

Greta grinned, biting her bottom lip as she hopped up to switch off the outside light. She felt like a teenager, giddy to sneak someone in like this. She opened the door carefully when she heard Carson's soft knock, letting her in and raising an eyebrow when she noticed she had a bag with her. 

"I thought I didn't get a sleepover," Greta said, trying not to sound too excited as Carson made a beeline for her bedroom. 

"You don't, it's just something I figured you needed," Carson said, cocky as she turned to face Greta. "Something big to match your attitude today."

"Oh," Greta said, her eyes widening slightly. "Are you really mad at me, Carson?" she asked, lowering her voice.

"I think you want me to be mad at you," Carson said, a smirk on her lips. "But I'm just…amused. You want rules, but you don't want to follow them. It's funny," she added.

Greta stared at the bag for a moment, tilting her head.

"It just seems like I get rewarded either way," she said, trailing a finger down Carson's arm as she set her mysterious bag down. 

"We'll see," Carson said. "What did you do after I sent you home?" she asked casually, as though Greta wasn't already on fire with need.

"Thought about what you might do to me," Greta said honestly. "I couldn't focus on anything else."

"Good," Carson said, looking her over. "But did you think about what you did in the first place?"

"A little," Greta said, followed by a sharp, tiny inhale as Carson finally reached for her, her hands on her waist. 

"You were putting on such a show," Carson murmured, sliding her hands over the material of Greta's nightgown, pushing it up slightly to reveal more of her legs. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to get someone else to come over here tonight."

"I wouldn't," Greta said, allowing Carson to lift the hem of her slip as she nudged her toward the bed. It felt like she was being unwrapped, Carson's movements slow as she pulled the garment up higher. Greta sat down on the bed once it reached her waist, raising her arms so that Carson could remove it completely. 

"You wouldn't, but she would," Carson said, like she was sure. 

"I was just teasing her so you'd watch me," Greta said, leaning into Carson's touch as she palmed her chest, placing a knee on the bed between her legs, rubbing denim against the front of her underwear. 

"I know, but she liked it too much," Carson said, a hand finding the side of Greta's neck. She kissed her roughly, biting down on Greta's lip before pulling back and shifting so Greta was lying down. She moved her knee against her again, holding herself up with one arm as she stroked her other thumb down Greta's throat. Greta whined, trying to lean for her lips again, but Carson just grinned and climbed off of her. 

"Stay there," Carson said as Greta started moving to sit up. 

"Yes, boss," Greta said, lying back down her legs dangling off the edge of the bed and a wet spot already forming on her underwear, certainly visible. 

She stared up at the ceiling as Carson undressed to a tank top and boxers, as she unzipped her bag and rustled around with this ominous, big surprise…When Carson climbed onto her again she looked down, met with a visual that made her tremble. 

"It'll fit," Carson said, grinding the underside of her strap on along Greta's panties before resting it over her stomach, measuring the length against her. "Won't it, baby?"

"God, Carson," Greta breathed, looping her arms around Carson's neck. 

"Answer," Carson said, dodging her kiss and ignoring Greta's pout. 

"Yes, it'll fit," Greta said quietly, pushing her hips up, desperate for more friction as Carson dipped to meet her mouth and kissed her slowly. 

Carson licked into her mouth, holding her neck firmly and rubbing the toy against her again. Greta squirmed, trying to pull Carson closer as a muffled moan escaped her throat. 

"So needy," Carson murmured as she pulled away again, cupping between Greta's legs as she stood up. "I guess I should take these off, hm?"

"Please," Greta said, nodding and lifting her hips so Carson could pull the wet lace away. 

"Now I need you on your stomach, facing me," Carson said, grabbing Greta's chin gently once she'd changed positions. "You'd better get it nice and wet, since you were practicing earlier on your fingers for everyone to see."

Greta nodded, propped on her elbows with her legs kicked up and her ankles crossed behind her. She opened her mouth, looking up at Carson. 

"Pretty girl," Carson said, tapping the tip against Greta's lips before Greta took it inside. 

Greta knew she looked obscene as she took the silicone deeper into her mouth, her jaw straining and spit slipping down her chin as she went further and further, but she didn't care. Not when Carson was looking down at her the way she was, stroking her hair, telling her to take more. She went slowly, focusing as she neared her limit, pushing just the tiniest bit past it despite her throat trying to tighten. She pulled back slightly and felt Carson push gently at the back of her head, alerting her that she wasn't done. She started a slow rhythm, taking the dildo as far into her throat as far as she could before pulling back just enough to relieve her jaw, over and over as more of her own drool leaked onto her skin. Carson seemed impressed. 

"You whore," Carson said, smiling as Greta pulled back. "Now, spit on it."

"Carson…" Greta mumbled.

"What's that?" Carson asked, rubbing her thumb over the spit on Greta's chin. 

"It's embarrassing," Greta mumbled. 

"More embarrassing than you nearly gagging on it?" Carson asked, nudging at her lips again. "Spit, now."

Greta could feel herself dripping between her legs as she gathered saliva in her mouth, forcing herself to keep eye contact as she spit onto the toy. She only looked away to watch it roll down to the base, Carson's free hand spreading it lewdly. 

"Again," Carson said. "It'll feel better, won't it?"

Greta nodded, spitting again, feeling flushed down to her chest as Carson hummed in satisfaction. 

"Good girl," Carson finally praised, looking down at the slick, shiny work Greta had accomplished. "Flip over again."

Greta obeyed, moving onto her back once more and moving closer to the pillows on the bed as Carson knelt between her legs. She pulled Greta's thighs over her own, nearly around her hips, and slid the spit-soaked toy against Greta's entrance. Greta pushed toward her, desperate and ready, and Carson guided herself into her tauntingly. 

"Oh, look at you," Carson said, grabbing onto Greta's hip as she bottomed out, staying still as she gazed down at her. "You're already taking it all so easily, I knew you could."

Greta felt like her brain was liquified, her eyes flitting between the sight of Carson between her legs and the hungry look on her face. When Carson started moving, she thought she might completely implode.

"Fuck," Greta moaned, clutching at the arm Carson was holding her with as she began thrusting into her quick and deep, her nails digging into her skin. 

"Don't be too loud," Carson said, smirking as Greta choked out a whimper. "What if someone was walking by? We don't want to get in more trouble, right?"

Greta shook her head haphazardly, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as Carson slammed into her, like she was trying to make her cry out anyway. 

"You can't follow the rules, so I just have to try harder to make you listen to me," Carson husked. "Maybe if you can keep quiet while I fuck you like this, you can figure out how to stop using that mouth for naughty things when you're not supposed to."

Greta bit down on her hand, her nods in response lost amidst the way Carson was rocking her body back and forth on the bed. The bedframe was creaking like it was making fun of her, mocking the noises she was trying so hard to hold back.

"Aw, you can't even answer," Carson said, her fingertips digging harder into her hip. She slowed her pace for a moment, staring down at Greta like she was a prize, before moving her hand from her hip so she could swipe tight, small circles over her clit. 

Greta was trembling, feeling stretched and overwhelmed in the best way, and Carson’s touch was undoing her so quickly she could barely keep up. She focused on the sharpness of her own teeth digging into her hand, moans dying in her mouth before they could escape as she bucked her hips shamelessly to meet the thrusts that would surely destroy her. She wanted to be good, but she wanted this. The glint in Carson’s eye as she taught her a lesson was so addictive, but she craved her tenderness, too. Her thoughts swam as she climbed higher, her climax just in reach, and then Carson simply stopped. 

"N- no, please," Greta breathed desperately. "Please don't stop."

Carson smiled at her pitifully, still inside her, not moving. 

"See how frustrating it is when someone doesn't do what you want?" Carson asked. 

"Yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Greta said, feeling dizzy from the way her senses had all been stalled. She was buzzing, wet, and twitching, her hands clenching and unclenching in arrested ecstasy. 

"Sorry for what?" Carson asked, her hand stroking up and down Greta's side, trailing her own wetness along her skin. 

"For being a slut," Greta said, trying to keep the whine from her voice. "Please, Carson," she begged. "I'll be good, I promise, just please let me, I need to..."

"Oh, Greta," Carson murmured. "I really don't believe you won't do it again," she said, beginning to move her hips again as slowly as she could, her hand ghosting back to rest over Greta's clit, not quite giving her what she needed. "But it's so cute to see you panic and beg like that, maybe I like when you're in trouble."

Greta whimpered, flexing her hips towards Carson's, trying to gain more friction, more depth. 

"So fucking greedy," Carson sighed, resuming the circles she pressed into Greta's sensitive clit. Greta writhed, not caring how pathetic she seemed as she clawed her way back to the edge. She wrapped her arms around Carson's neck, pulling her closer, scratching at her shoulders as she hid her cries in the crook of Carson's neck. 

"That's it, baby," Carson said, her hand working faster as her hips met their previous pace again, snapping quickly against Greta's uncontrolled movements. 

"Fuck," Greta mumbled against her skin, tears pricking at her eyes as she fully unraveled, clinging to Carson for dear life as she fucked every drop of reaction out of her. She kept rubbing as Greta squirmed, kept pushing into her as Greta arched, trying to close her legs, completely overwhelmed. 

"You're okay," Carson said quietly, still going, Greta's mind completely full of static. "You can handle it."

Greta was shaking, reduced to a boneless mess of weak moans and shallow breaths as Carson finally relented, pulling out of her and reaching to cup her face, her thumb stroking across her flushed cheek. 

"You did so well," Carson whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to Greta's forehead. "I'm not leaving you, I'm just going to get you water, okay?" 

Greta nodded vaguely, curling onto her side, still evening out her breath as her now-unspooled muscles slowly pulled back into place, like her body had been rended apart and someone hit rewind so she was pulled back together. She sat up slowly when Carson returned with a glass of water, her hand shaking as she accepted it.

"Are you okay, sweet girl?" Carson asked, sitting beside her and helping bring one of the blankets around her shoulders, rubbing softly along her arm as Greta satisfied the thirst she hadn't noticed until the cold water touched her lips. 

"Yeah," Greta said, taking another sip of water before setting the glass on the bedside table. "I'm gonna be sore," she added, nuzzling against Carson's shoulder. 

"Good," Carson said. "You'll sleep well, too," she added. "Don't stay up late, okay? And sleep in, too."

"I'll try," Greta said, yawning like she was under a spell cast by Carson's words. "Wish you could stay with me," she continued. 

"I know, baby. Soon," Carson said, tilting her chin up to offer a soft kiss. 

"Go, before I try to trap you here," Greta said, returning her kiss with several more. 

Carson sighed, getting up from the bed with a stretch of her arms. She disappeared to the bathroom to clean the toy and get re-dressed, returning to the sight of Greta in bed with the covers tucked up to her chin.

"You're so cute," Carson said, picking up her bag before leaning down to kiss Greta's cheek.

"Thanks," Greta said, a sleepy smile on her face. "Goodnight, Carson."

"Night, Greta," Carson said quietly. "I'll lock the door for you."

Greta was already asleep by the time Carson walked away from her front door, completely exhausted and floating in some sort of heavenly bliss as she drifted into slumber.