Work Text:
For some reason, Samira had thought that things would change for her at work after PittFest. In hindsight, maybe it was mildly delusional to believe that one day could rewrite three years of difficult relationships. Or that one night of successes might magically change anyone’s opinion of her. The high she’d felt had worn off quickly and it hadn’t been recaptured through a lukewarm beer in the park while making awkward small talk with her coworkers. If anything, she’d only felt more alone as she observed the easy rapport that she’d never been a part of.
Samira hadn’t gone to the park for after work drinks again.
But what she hadn’t expected was the way that Trinity came up to her the next morning to tell her how fucking badass, a direct quote, she’d been the night before. And she really didn’t expect Trinity to invite Samira to hang out with her, and by extension Dennis, like she’d already decided that they were friends.
The most unexpected part, though, was how much Samira found herself enjoying Trinity’s company when she said yes.
At first she’d been a bit worried that Trinity might begin to expect some kind of special treatment at work because of their newfound friendship, but it became clear very quickly that that wasn’t the case. If anything, it seemed like Trinity actually respected her more now.
Samira was a little fascinated by how Trinity seemed to flout the unspoken social hierarchy within the department. Normally R3s didn’t hang out with interns and interns didn’t hang out with med students, but that didn’t seem to matter when Samira accepted the invitation and had since spent many evenings hanging out with the two of them.
Sometimes they were joined by Victoria or Mel. Often they were joined by Yolanda Garcia, who Trinity had started officially dating after a very long six weeks of will-they won’t-they moments that had been almost painful to observe.
When Samira was being honest with herself, she could admit that on some level she was jealous of Trinity’s ability to identify what she wanted and to just go after it. If she wanted to be friends with someone, she acted like it was a forgone conclusion that they already were. She’d landed a surgical resident as a girlfriend after less than two months at the hospital. There was no biding her time, waiting until the end of residency to allow herself to actually build a life outside of the hospital.
It made Samira wonder if she’d made a mistake by spending the better part of the past decade isolating herself in order to put all of her time and attention into her work.
She could admit now how much better she felt, sitting in a booth at a dive bar, laughing with a group of people who actually cared about her, than she did during the nights she spent alone in her too-quiet apartment.
They’d started the evening with Samira getting a ride to Trinity and Dennis’s apartment after work, where she’d changed from her scrubs into jeans and a sweater before they headed out.
The bar they were at was surprisingly empty for a Friday night, they had the back room almost entirely to themselves, and Samira was sitting at a table with Yolanda while Trinity and Dennis had commandeered the pool table to play what was possibly the worst game of pool two people had ever played.
Yolanda was surprisingly easy to talk to outside of work. At the hospital she was brusque, direct, willing to volley around teasing quips but never having time to linger long enough to get to know her. But here she was looser, relaxed as she heckled Trinity and Dennis and laughed at a story Samira was telling about a little boy who’d come into the ER after he’d shoved a popcorn kernel up his nose and how worried he’d been about whether a popcorn tree would sprout from his nostril.
As Samira was describing the various methods they’d tried to use to extract the kernel, Yolanda’s phone began to buzz on the table.
“Sorry, one second,” Yolanda said as she answered. “Hey,” she said into the phone, listening for a beat before saying, “yeah, we’re in the back.”
“So what ended up working?” She asked as she turned back to Samira.
“Oh, we put some glue on the tip of a coffee stirrer from the break room,” Samira said with a laugh. “It was Dana’s id—” she trailed off, suddenly distracted, as Emery Walsh walked through the doorway, heading straight for them. She’d never seen Emery outside of the hospital before.
Emery was dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt with a leather jacket on top. Her hair was down, falling in loose curls over her shoulders. There was no reason that the look should affect Samira the way it did, but she couldn’t help the sudden flutter of nerves and attraction that she felt in her stomach.
It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d noticed that Emery was attractive. The way the other woman managed to command a room, her easy confidence, it had always done something to Samira. And now, seeing her in a much more casual setting, it was somehow even worse.
“Hey,” Emery said as she slid into the booth, next to Yolanda. She already had a glass of beer in her hand.
“Hi,” Samira breathed as Emery’s eyes met hers. When she looked back over at Yolanda, there was a mildly amused expression on her face that Samira didn’t fully know how to classify.
“What the fuck are those two doing?” Emery asked as her gaze drifted toward the pool table where Dennis had somehow sent a ball flying across the room while Trinity doubled over with laughter.
“Playing pool?” Samira replied, allowing a hint of sarcasm to slip into her tone. “At least, allegedly.”
“Allegedly is about right,” Yolanda agreed with a snort as they watched Trinity reset the balls.
Dennis went first this time, lining up a shot and then somehow missing the cue ball entirely before trying again and finally aiming well enough to scatter the balls across the table.
“Are they drunk?” Emery asked, sounding like she hoped the answer would be yes.
“No,” Samira said, with a laugh, “that would be much less embarrassing.”
“They’re just deeply uncoordinated,” Yolanda said, loudly enough for Trinity to turn and flip her off before returning her attention to the game.
“This is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen,” Emery eventually muttered as she watched Trinity and Dennis continue to try and fail to get even a single ball into the holes. Without any other warning, she got up and stalked over to them.
“Whitaker, hand the cue over,” Emery said, holding her hand out.
“Oh, uh, here you go, Doctor Walsh,” Dennis handed it over with the familiar look of panic he wore whenever a doctor asked him a question that he didn’t know the answer to.
“Are you stripes or solids?” Emery asked and Dennis seemed to wilt under her stare.
“He’s stripes,” Trinity said when Dennis didn’t answer.
Emery crouched over the table, lining up a shot. “It’s all about angles. You have to line up your shot correctly, use the walls to help you get the ball toward the pocket. And you’re both using way too much force. Just pull your elbow back like this,” she demonstrated, pulling her arm back slightly before driving the cue forward, creating a perfect shot and sinking a ball like it was nothing. “See?”
When Dennis still seemed like he hadn’t recovered from the sudden scrutiny of an attending, even though they weren’t anywhere near a hospital setting, Emery just rolled her eyes and turned back to the pool table.
Samira couldn’t tear her gaze away as Emery lined up another shot. She’d always admired her precision the few times that she’d had the chance to watch Emery yield a scalpel, but this was different. This was Emery putting her whole body into motion. The tilt of her hips, the flex of her arms, the muscles of her back moving beneath her shirt. Samira was entranced by her.
One by one she sank the striped balls, making it look easy as Samira felt heat rising through her body at the display. And she wasn’t the only one taking notice.
By the time Emery turned to Trinity and said, “You lose, Santos,” everyone but Yolanda, who had seemingly seen this before, was gaping at her.
“Holy shit,” Trinity said, blinking at her with a stunned expression. “Please teach me how to do that.”
Emery snorted, “Maybe next time. I came for a drink tonight, I left my teaching hat at the hospital.” She handed the cue back to Dennis who seemed to have to shake himself put of a trance as he took it back
“That was impressive,” he managed to say and Emery just gave him a nod in return.
Emery went to sit back next to Yolanda, but Trinity stopped her by calling out, “That’s my seat, Walsh.” Because somehow she and Yolanda were the type of couple who were constantly in each other’s space, as though sitting across the table was just too far. Samira always found herself torn between thinking it was sweet and feeling a pang of jealous longing for something similar.
Rolling her eyes, Emery slid into the booth next to Samira instead. This close, Samira noticed how nice she smelled, a warm, spiced woody scent. It was making Samira feel like she was losing her mind.
Trinity took her spot next to Yolanda and Dennis sat beside her at the very edge of the booth.
“Where’d you learn to play pool like that?” Samira asked Emery once everyone had settled back in.
“Pool was a popular pastime at one of the bases I was stationed at when I was in the air force,” Emery said with a shrug. “I used to hustle the new recruits who didn’t think the lady doctor could possibly have any skill.”
“I didn’t know you’d been in the air force,” Samira said, glancing around to see if anyone else seemed surprised by this information, but it was just her.
Emery shrugged, “It got me out of my hometown and paid for me to go to school.”
“It’s also why she and Abbot are at each other’s throats all the time,” Yolanda said as she took a sip of her drink. “The old air force versus army pissing contest.”
“I won’t disparage the old man when he’s not here to defend himself.” Emery said with a smirk, before adding, “And not in front of his favorite resident.”
Samira felt a flash of surprise when Emery nodded toward her. “What? I don’t think I’m his favorite resident,” Samira said, feeling a small frown form on her lips. “I don’t think I’m anyone’s favorite resident.”
“Right there with you,” Trinity said, holding out her glass and Samira tapped her own against it in a sad little cheers motion. “Unlike everyone’s favorite boy, huckleberry,” Trinity said, pinching Dennis’s cheek with a smirk. “He’s not even a resident yet and they all already like him more.”
Dennis blushed and tried to duck away from her, glancing around like he was trying to gauge how to respond. Samira felt for him a bit, it wasn’t every day that a medical student ended up hanging out with an attending. But apparently he decided that he didn’t need to be on his best behavior, because he said, “Oh, fuck off,” as he swatted as Trinity’s hand.
Beside her, Emery let out a small, surprised chuckle and Samira wondered how she’d ended up surrounded by people who all seemed to like each other better when they were being mildly rude. The more she thought about it, though, the more sense it made. There was something so honest about the way they all teased each other, about not having to constantly fake pleasantries or worry about saying the wrong thing.
Samira found herself relaxing into the feeling, enjoying the easy flow of conversation, but the whole time she felt incredibly aware of how close she was to Emery. Their arms weren’t quite touching, but she was close enough that Samira couldn’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to lean just an inch closer, closing the gap between them.
Combined with the two drinks Samira had had, it was starting to go to Samira’s head. It was as if Emery had some sort of gravitational field trying to pull Samira closer.
She tried to ignore it, tried to keep her attention on the conversation and pretend she wasn’t affected by the casual way Emery lounged in the booth beside her. Or how she kept actually laughing along with the group, nothing dramatic, just a low chuckle, but Samira had previously thought she wasn’t capable of finding anything funny.
The time passed too quickly and before Samira knew it, everyone was slowly gathering their things and getting ready to leave.
“Do you want a ride home?” Yolanda asked her as they walked outside. Samira had taken the bus that morning since she’d known they’d be carpooling from work, rather than trying to find two parking spots downtown.
“Oh, I’m in the opposite direction. I’ll just get an uber,” she said with a wave.
“Don’t be silly—” Trinity started, but before she could continue Emery interrupted.
“Where do you live?” Emery’s tone was casual, but it still made Samira’s heart skip a beat thinking about being alone in the car with her.
“I’m back in the direction of the hospital,” Samira said, “really, it’s fine.”
“That’s on my way, I’ll drive you,” Emery said, like it was a decision that was already made.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind,” Samira said, meeting Emery’s eyes. Emery just shrugged.
“It’s not a problem,” she said, steadily holding Samira’s gaze.
Samira nodded, “Alright then.” When she turned back to the rest of the group, Trinity was biting her lips, looking like she was holding back a smirk while Yolanda had the same amused expression she’d worn earlier when Emery’d arrived at the bar. Dennis was just glancing between everyone like he’d missed something, and Samira felt the same as she said, “See you all on Monday, have a good weekend.”
“Bye,” Trinity said waving at them while still looking like the cat who’d eaten the canary.
Emery just gave them all a nod before turning to Samira. “I’m parked around the corner.”
Samira followed her, sticking close to her side as they walked down the sidewalk.
“Do you have any plans for the rest of the weekend?” Samira asked, feeling like she had to fill the silence between them.
“I agreed to go into work tomorrow, vacation coverage,” Emery said. “How about you?”
“I have a whole list of chores and errands I need to do, nothing interesting,” Samira said as Emery gestured toward a sleek black sedan just ahead of them. “If I’m really lucky, I’ll manage to catch up on some sleep.”
Emery let out an understanding hum as she unlocked the car, “A precious commodity during residency.”
“It really is,” Samira agreed with a dry laugh as she opened the door and climbed into the car.
“Here,” Emery handed her phone over with google maps on the screen, “enter your address.” When Samira handed the phone back, she slipped it into a holder on the dashboard and started the car. “Other than the lack of sleep, has everything been going alright?”
“Oh, well, yeah. Everything’s been fine,” Samira said. It wasn’t really a lie. Fine wasn’t the same as good after all. And things were fine.
“Yeah? Because the way you and Trinity were talking earlier…”
“You know how it is,” Samira kept her voice light. “Always room for improvement, etcetera.”
“Uh-huh,” Emery’s tone was flat, skeptical.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Samira insisted.
“You’re an incredible doctor, Samira. More people should act like it,” the sincerity in Emery’s tone took her by surprise.
“I didn’t realize you thought that. Thank you,” Samira said, feeling a bit floored.
“Anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot,” Emery said and Samira felt warm all over from the praise.
There wasn’t anything that she could think to say in response to that, so they lapsed into silence, letting the radio play softly in the background.
Samira didn’t think that she was imagining the way that while she was looking at Emery, Emery was looking right back, sidelong glances whenever they were stopped that made Samira fidget in her seat.
For the first time in living memory, there was an open spot on the street right in front of Samira’s building. Emery’s arm hooked over the back of Samira’s seat as she parallel parked in a single try. The sheer competence of the move combined with her close proximity made Samira’s mouth go dry.
When Emery put the car in park and looked over at her, Samira felt the sense of need she’d been trying to suppress all night bubbling to the surface, burning inside of her skin. The want. The desire to touch and be touched, to be close to someone, to Emery. To have that easy confidence and focus tuned to her and her pleasure.
Before she could overthink or talk herself out of it, she asked, “Would you want to come up?”
Emery’s brow raised in surprise, but Samira just held her gaze, biting her lower lip nervously before she realized how that probably came across. But then she remembered that that was actually exactly what she was trying to imply and stopped second-guessing herself as Emery’s eyes darted down to her lips before returning to meet hers.
Most of her life had been a masterclass of repression. Pushing down her wants in order to focus on her plan, her goals, was Samira’s area of expertise and she was suddenly so utterly exhausted by it. She’d spent years denying herself of her physical and emotional cravings and for what? At this point, she was pretty confident that her career would still be in the same place regardless of whether she was having sex regularly.
She wanted this, wanted Emery, so badly that she felt like she might explode if she couldn’t have it.
A small smirk spread across Emery’s lips, less sharp than usual, as she said, “What the hell, sure.”
Samira blinked for a moment, she hadn’t actually expected Emery to agree so easily. “Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath as she reached for the door handle as Emery took the keys out of the ignition.
As they walked into Samira’s building, Emery’s hand settled at the small of her back. Something about the touch grounded her, made her process that this was really happening.
Seeing Emery standing in her apartment once they took their shoes and coats off felt surreal, almost incongruous. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d had someone in her space. On the incredibly rare occasions she had slept with someone, she’d always gone to their place so that she could leave whenever she wanted to and wouldn’t be stuck with someone lingering around her apartment.
“Did you move in recently?” Emery asked as she looked around the bare walls of the living room.
Samira had moved into this apartment a week before her residency started, nearly two and a half years ago. “I guess that depends on how you define recent,” she said as she glanced around at the sparse space like she didn’t see it every day.
Emery gave her a questioning look and something in Samira withered slightly. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know how pathetic she was, she really didn’t need to be reminded of it.
“If it’s not up to your standards you can leave,” Samira crossed her arms over her chest, trying not to show the hurt she suddenly felt.
“No, I’m sorry,” Emery said, her expression softening. “I didn’t mean to sound judgmental. I’ve just always thought that home should be a sort of sanctuary, you know?”
Samira shrugged, “That’s always felt excessive to me. This apartment is perfectly functional.” For some reason, Samira was surprised by Emery’s assessment. Out of everyone at the hospital, she would’ve thought that Emery might have a similar perspective. She’d always seemed so practical, almost utilitarian in her approach to things.
“I’ve seen how hard you work,” Emery’s tone was gentle as she took a step toward Samira, holding out her hand. “You deserve to be comfortable. To relax.”
Uncrossing her arms, Samira reached out and took Emery’s hand. Her grip was warm, steady as her fingers wrapped around Samira’s. She let Emery pull her in until there was barely an inch of space between them and Emery’s free hand came to rest at her waist.
“I don’t normally do this,” Samira confessed and Emery’s thumb traced soothingly against her own.
“I can tell,” Emery said, but there was no cruelty in her tone. Nothing snarky or pitying, just an observation of the truth that Samira found strangely comforting because if that fact bothered Emery, she wouldn’t still be here. “I’m more than happy to take the lead, if that’s what you want.” Emery’s eyes bore into hers, dark with an obvious hunger and Samira felt a new flare of interest snake up her spine.
“Yes,” Samira agreed, feeling breathless at just the idea of letting Emery be in control. If Emery was even half as good at sex as she was at performing surgery, or playing pool, or parallel parking, this would probably be the best sex of Samira’s life.
But she didn’t want to wait any longer, didn’t want to draw anything out unnecessarily. She finally allowed the gravity she’d been feeling all night to pull her closer as she leaned in and kissed Emery.
It felt like exhaling, like it was a relief to finally feel Emery’s lips against her own after spending the entire night trying not to want it.
Emery kissed her back, heated but gentle in a way that wasn’t what Samira had imagined. She didn’t want to be treated with kid gloves, didn’t want Emery to hold back.
Letting her hand tangle in Emery’s hair, Samira deepened the kiss, biting at Emery’s lower lip. Emery responded in kind, the hand at Samira’s hip pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. The heat of Emery’s body pressed against hers made Samira feel electrified, heat coursing through her as she let out a soft moan against Emery’s mouth.
As Emery’s tongue dragged against hers, Samira could feel how wet she was already. Her hips rocked toward Emery’s, unconsciously seeking any level of contact, and Emery breathed a raspy laugh against her lips.
Pulling back, Emery looked up at her and said, “We should probably move this to the bedroom.”
Samira could only nod, letting Emery lead her toward her own open bedroom door, Emery’s fingers threaded through hers as Samira followed behind.
Samira dropped Emery’s hand, freezing at the bedroom doorway while Emery continued inside. Sitting right at the center of the bed was the stuffed lion that her father had given her for her fifth birthday, which she still slept with every night. Mortification welled in her stomach as she watched Emery walk over and pick it up, studying the misshapen body and matted fur from over twenty years of Samira holding it close.
But she just glanced back at Samira with a surprisingly soft smile and said, “Cute.” As she gently placed it on the nightstand.
That small, innocuous gesture affected Samira more than it should have. Seeing Emery handle what felt like the last remaining vestige of her childhood so gently and without judgement gave Samira the confidence to cross the room and pull her into another kiss.
Samira couldn’t quite untangle the emotions she felt. There was something about knowing that Emery could have teased her, could have taken that small embarrassing kernel of Samira’s private life and made a snarky remark but chose not to, that made Samira feel safe. If Emery wasn’t going to make fun of her for sleeping with a stuffed animal, she probably wouldn’t make fun of her if she was a little awkward at having sex.
This time, the kiss was heated immediately, Emery’s mouth opening easily beneath hers as Samira gripped at Emery’s waist, hands pulling at her t-shirt where it was tucked into her jeans.
Emery’s breath hitched slightly against her mouth as Samira trailed her hands across the soft skin of her stomach and Samira took that as encouragement to tug at the hem of the shirt, pulling it over Emery’s head.
“I thought you didn’t want to be in charge,” Emery’s voice was rough as she reached up to finish taking her shirt off, sounding amused.
Samira used the moment of separation to pull her own sweater off. “So I got a little sidetracked,” she said as her eyes trailed over the curves of Emery’s body, landing on the her nude bra, the way her chest moved with each breath she took.
“My eyes are up here,” Emery said and Samira blinked, feeling her cheeks warm as she tore her gaze back to Emery’s face.
“Oh,” she breathed, “uh—”
“I’m joking,” Emery reached behind her back to unhook her bra, letting it fall off her shoulders and to the floor. “Look all you want.” She said it with such confidence, standing half-bare in front of Samira like
But Samira didn’t just want to look, she leaned forward to pull Emery into another kiss, letting her hands roam freely across Emery’s exposed skin, skimming across her hips, the planes of her back, around to cup the soft weight of her breasts.
Emery let out a soft moan as Samira lightly pinched her nipples, rolling them between her fingertips. Samira wanted to keep going, to get Emery to make the noise again, but Emery seemed to have other plans. Her hands gripped Samira’s hips, turning them so that Samira’s knees backed up against the edge of the bed as Emery reached around her back to undo the clasp of her bra with one hand.
As Samira finished pulling her bra off, she sat back on the bed, tugging Emery on top of her.
“God, you’re gorgeous Samira,” Emery said, her voice low against Samira’s ear, making her shiver.
Hovering over her, Emery trailed her lips down Samira’s neck, across her chest and Samira arched into the feeling.
“Fuck,” she breathed as Emery’s lips wrapped around her nipple. Her hands gripped at Emery’s shoulders as Emery continued to tease her, driving her higher as she felt Emery’s hands at her waist, unbuttoning her jeans.
She moved off of Samira without warning, leaving Samira blinking down to find her kneeling on the floor between her legs. Samira lifted her hips to allow Emery to pull off her jeans, then her underwear. Emery held her gaze as she began kissing along the line of Samira’s thigh, making Samira tremble with anticipation as Emery’s mouth moved from her knee, to her inner thigh, until she paused just beside the wet thatch of dark curls between Samira’s legs.
Her eyes were dark as she looked up at Samira, who felt pinned under her stare. “Please,” she said, desperation seeping into her tone as she stared back at Emery, who flashed her an indulgent smirk before her mouth moved to Samira’s cunt.
Samira moaned as Emery’s hand parted her folds, her tongue trailing from Samira’s entrance up to her clit, circling it in a way that made Samira’s hips buck up toward the pressure. She laid back against the bed, unable to focus on holding herself upright as she let the feeling overwhelm her.
Any fears Samira had had about feeling awkward were entirely unfounded because it felt like the most natural thing in the world to roll her hips along with the rhythm of Emery’s mouth, her hand threading through Emery’s hair once again, holding her in place. And Emery was clearly paying attention, seemingly attuned to every small sound and motion Samira made as though it was verbal feedback.
She followed the pace of Samira’s hips, her lips and tongue finding a pattern that had Samira crying out as she felt the pleasure building.
Emery’s hand dropped lower, two of her fingers sinking easily inside of Samira.
“Yes,” Samira gasped as Emery’s hand began to move. She could feel her thighs begin to shake, her lower stomach tightening with a quickly approaching orgasm. “Don’t stop.”
Emery let out a hum against her, continuing to keep the same steady pace as Samira tumbled over the edge. The wave of pleasure nearly took her by surprise, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d managed to come so quickly with a partner.
She gently pulled Emery’s head back as she caught her breath, sitting up halfway to meet her eyes.
“Only one?” Emery asked as her fingers kept gently fucking Samira through the aftershocks.
“What?” Samira asked, until her brain caught up with what Emery was asking. “Oh— I’ve never—” she’d never had more than one orgasm during sex before. No one had ever really offered and asking had always felt greedy.
“Do you want another?” Emery sucked a kiss against her hipbone and Samira couldn’t help the way her cunt clenched again around Emery’s fingers at the offer. She could feel Emery smirk against her skin.
“Yeah,” she said and Emery grinned at her before returning her mouth to her cunt.
Samira was still so aroused that she knew it would barely take any time at all to come again under Emery’s touch.
This time, Emery sucked lightly at her clit, like she’d already known that Samira would be too sensitive for direct contact and Samira wished that she could melt under the feeling and stay at the precipice, basking in the warmth of Emery’s attention forever.
Her second orgasm washed over her, leaving her limbs feeling heavy as she gasped, “Okay, that’s enough.”
Emery let out a chuckle as her fingers gently slid out of Samira and she moved back onto the bed, leaning down to pull Samira into a kiss.
Tasting herself on Emery’s lips nearly had Samira wanting to change her mind, to ask Emery for a third, but instead she used that new flash of arousal to sit up, to flip them so that Emery was on the bed, blinking up at Samira like she was surprised at this turn of events.
“My turn to be in charge now,” Samira said and Emery nodded, an expression on her face like she was humoring her, but Samira could see the underlying heat in her gaze.
Her hands moved to the buckle of Emery’s belt, undoing it before she unbuttoned Emery’s jeans and tugged them down her legs.
For a moment, she studied the way that Emery was splayed beneath her, a pink flush running from her cheeks down to her chest, her dark hair fanned across Samira’s lilac duvet cover, wearing nothing but a simple pair of black cotton briefs. Samira brought her hand to cup Emery through her underwear, feeling how wet she was even through the fabric. Emery’s hips pressed into the touch, seeking contact that Samira was more than happy to give.
“You’re beautiful,” Samira said, moving to pull Emery’s underwear down her legs and Emery’s flush deepened.
Emery pulled her back into a kiss, arms wrapping around Samira’s back as Samira’s hand settled between her legs, trailing along Emery’s cunt before sliding inside of her.
“Fuck yes, that feels amazing,” Emery broke their kiss to groan as Samira picked up the pace. Samira couldn’t tear her eyes away from Emery’s face, the way her eyes were closed and her mouth was parted like she was getting lost in Samira’s touch.
She felt powerful as her fingers moved inside of Emery, causing the other woman to swear again as she arched into her hand. Emery was always so composed, so in control, that it was a heady feeling knowing that Samira was the one managing to take her apart. That Emery was allowing Samira to take her apart.
As her hand continued to move, she pulled Emery’s bottom lip into her mouth, biting lightly, the way that Emery had seemed to like earlier. The base of her palm pressed against Emery’s clit, keeping pressure there as Emery’s hips began to stutter, her cunt tightening around Samira’s fingers.
Emery came with a cut-off moan, her fingers digging into Samira’s back hard enough to leave a mark and the thought of that made Samira feel warm. She wanted to wake up in the morning with a physical reminder that this wasn’t all some wild dream.
When Emery didn’t stop her, didn’t pull away, Samira continued to fuck her. She figured that it was only fair that Emery should also get off twice.
By the time Emery came again, Samira’s wrist was starting to feel strained, so she pulled her hand back, bringing it to her mouth.
“Goddamn,” Emery said as Samira sucked the salty, heady taste of her off of her fingers, Emery’s eyes following the movement. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Neither did I,” Samira said with a small laugh, collapsing back onto the bed next to Emery.
She didn’t know what to do now, what to say as she listened to Emery’s breathing return to normal beside her. Before she could decide to move closer, to say something witty or charming, Emery was pulling herself up to a sitting position.
“I should get going,” Emery said, pausing for a moment to brush the hair back from Samira’s face before she climbed out of bed. It was a surprisingly tender gesture that made Samira close her eyes for just a second to collect herself. “I still have to work tomorrow.” Samira wasn’t sure if there was a thread of regret in her tone or if that was just wishful thinking.
As she watched Emery gather her clothes, Samira ignored the pang of disappointment she felt. Part of her had been hoping that she’d stay.
Trying not to let any of that show, Samira got up to find her own clothes.
“You don’t have to see me out,” Emery said as she did up her jeans.
“I’ll need to latch the door behind you,” Samira said. She pulled on her underwear and her sweater and decided that was enough, padding down the hallway after Emery, wrapping her arms around herself to stop from trying to reach out again. She didn’t want to seem desperate, like she didn’t understand that this had been a hook-up and nothing more.
Emery paused as she pulled on her jacket, digging her hand into her pocket and retrieving her phone. She unlocked it and held it out to Samira with a blank contact page on the screen.
“We should do this again sometime,” she said and it took Samira a moment to catch up and take the phone from her.
“I’d like that,” Samira said as she carefully typed her name and number before handing the phone back to Emery.
As Emery pocketed her phone, she continued to linger, eyes roving over Samira’s face like she was looking for something, but Samira couldn’t begin to try to imagine what. She felt like she’d been cracked open, like pieces of her had spilled out that hadn’t seen the light of day in years and she had no idea what amalgamation of those disparate parts of herself was left visible.
When Emery stepped closer, pressing a quick kiss to Samira’s lips, Samira nearly froze with shock. But she let herself return the kiss, uncrossing her arms to brush against Emery’s hips before Emery pulled away again.
“See you later,” Emery said, tucking a curl behind Samira’s ear before she turned to the door.
Samira tried to hold onto the warmth of that gesture as she locked the door behind her.
The apartment felt emptier than usual as Samira went through her normal bedtime routine, deviating only to take a quick shower and change the sheets.
She was settled back into bed, lights turned out, trying to process everything that had just happened when her phone buzzed against her nightstand with an incoming text.
The number was unfamiliar, but she knew who it was immediately as she stared at the soft glowing light from her phone.
Sweet dreams, Samira, the text read.
Samira couldn’t help but smile to herself as she replied, You too, and saved Emery’s number to her contacts.