(no subject)
It's not my best, but I've been feeling nostalgic. (And old, but we're gonna go with mostly nostalgic.)
He gestured to her feet, now shoeless and tucked primly beneath her chair, and she lifted them to his lap, a habit long honed between them. His thumbs pressed into her soles, gently massaging. She made a little moan of pleasure when he pressed a particularly sensitive spot, and one of his hands drifted higher beneath the hem of her gown to massage her calf.
"You did good today," he said quietly.
She blushed a little at the compliment. "I do good every day."
"Yes, you do," he acknowledged with a smile.
"Enough to get a raise?"
"Let's not get too crazy."
"A girl can dream."
"Yes, she can," he answered, and she felt as if the conversation had taken a sudden turn and they were no longer talking about just a raise.
"Will the President take your recommendation on the thing?" she finally asked when the silence stretched too long.
His look was inscrutable when he answered, "Maybe?"
"He should. You were right. And he knows it. He just doesn't want to give Mahoney any ammunition."
"Doesn't matter. We did our best to convince him. It's out of our hands now." Sighing, he let go of her foot and reached around to grab his tux jacket off the back of his chair. "C'mon, it's late. Let me drive you home."
Slipping back into her heels, she took his proffered arm. "Whether he says it or not, you did do good today, too."
"Yeah."
"Yeah," she echoed, and then they quietly slipped down the darkened corridor toward the door and front gate.
He gestured to her feet, now shoeless and tucked primly beneath her chair, and she lifted them to his lap, a habit long honed between them. His thumbs pressed into her soles, gently massaging. She made a little moan of pleasure when he pressed a particularly sensitive spot, and one of his hands drifted higher beneath the hem of her gown to massage her calf.
"You did good today," he said quietly.
She blushed a little at the compliment. "I do good every day."
"Yes, you do," he acknowledged with a smile.
"Enough to get a raise?"
"Let's not get too crazy."
"A girl can dream."
"Yes, she can," he answered, and she felt as if the conversation had taken a sudden turn and they were no longer talking about just a raise.
"Will the President take your recommendation on the thing?" she finally asked when the silence stretched too long.
His look was inscrutable when he answered, "Maybe?"
"He should. You were right. And he knows it. He just doesn't want to give Mahoney any ammunition."
"Doesn't matter. We did our best to convince him. It's out of our hands now." Sighing, he let go of her foot and reached around to grab his tux jacket off the back of his chair. "C'mon, it's late. Let me drive you home."
Slipping back into her heels, she took his proffered arm. "Whether he says it or not, you did do good today, too."
"Yeah."
"Yeah," she echoed, and then they quietly slipped down the darkened corridor toward the door and front gate.