Hot To The Touch pt.1
Part I
“Rachel Please,” Sam said, sighing as he watched her pad her way through the kitchen with a plate of cookies and milk and into the living room.
“No.”
She stationed herself on the couch and picked up the remote from the coffee table. The TV flicked on. Sam rushed over to the couch, blocking Rachel's view. She took a sharp bite of her cookie and scowled. Sam's shoulders dropped and his face softened.
“Just because we dated for a brief time doesn't mean I'll drop all my plans for you.”
“I just need this small favor for this week,” He said, tapping the tip of his boot against the hardwood floor.
“Why would I work on my day off,” Rachel said, placing her plate of cookies on the table and curled her legs up on the couch. “I have a night shift the next day.”
“It's just for this Friday night. It's for my friend's birthday party,” He was met with Rachel's glare. “It's a paying gig.”
She propped her right arm on top of the couch, folding her hand under her chin. His right hand clenched into a fist before loosening and he tucked his hands into his jacket.
“How much?”
“100.”
Rachel squinted her eyes at Sam, “300.”
He staggered back with a scoff.
“That's a bit steep don't you think?”
Rachel raised her brow and shrugged, “I'm a trained vocalist and actor Sam. I should be charging more.”
“Alright, alright fine,” He said, nodding in agreement. “Just don't be late. I'll see you at the Cafe Carlyle at 9.”
Rachel smiled. Sam reached over the plate of cookies and took a bite. He cringed, putting it back on the plate.
“Vegan cookies,” Rachel said, watching Sam swallow and take her cup of milk. “Soy milk.”
Sam put it down and scoffed.
“Right, I forgot,” He said. “I owe you Rachel, thanks.”
He planted a kiss on her cheek before heading toward the door. She watched him step out, the door slamming behind him. Rachel leaned farther into the couch with a sigh.
***
Rachel woke Kurt up the following morning, demanding he accompany her for dress shopping. It wasn't hard to convince him as shopping was one of his favorite hobbies aside from sitting down to watch and sing along to classic broadway plays. Rachel was insistent the dress be suitable for tonight.
“So, Sam is throwing it, huh,” Kurt said, skimming through a rack of clothes.
He glanced back at Rachel. She kept her eyes on a rack full of skirts, she rather ignore and avoid the topic than have to face it with Kurt. He went back to rummaging through the rack, waiting for Rachel to respond. It wasn't a minute before he spoke up.
“A party for a friend?”
Rachel groaned, looking up for the first time. “Yes Kurt, a friend. What are you trying to do?”
He shrugged, moving on to the rack beside him. Rachel carefully watched him.
“You two broke up three months ago.”
Rachel's hand stilled, resting on a navy blue skirt for a moment.
“Kurt.”
“I just want to know if you're doing this for him or are you still heartbroken enough to take him back,” He took out a dress from the rack and looked it over. “I don't want you making a mistake.”
“I'm fine.”
He swiftly looked up with a tilt of his head. Rachel frowned. She shuffled over to a rack of dresses to her right.
“Okay, so I'm still upset about the break up, but we agreed to be friends,” Rachel sighed. “Besides, we broke up because he wasn't understanding about my career as an actress. He wanted something more grounded.”
“You're sure your relationship is long gone,” He walked away with the dress in hand. “I won't poke. I'm worried about you.”
Rachel watched him with a glare. Kurt was understanding, but was picky with the men she brought home. He had a knack for picking out the bad ones, as with passed boyfriends, Brody, and Puck, but he was sure Sam was a decent guy. Rachel had found him just as plain as her first boyfriend Finn. A simpleton wasn't what she needed.
“I have some dresses for you to try on. Come with me.”
She placed a black dress she had been staring at for the duration of the conversation back on the rack before joining Kurt.
***
He settled on a silk pastel pink gown with a deep v-neck. It hugged around Rachel's hips with a snug fit that enhanced the curve of her figure. She kept her hair down and curled at the edges. When her make up was done, Rachel picked up her purse on her way out.
“I'm coming back late Kurt,” She said, watching the bathroom door open.
Kurt came out in a white bathroom robe and a black face mask.
“I'm warning you Rachel, stay away from Sam,” He said, glaring, he looked Rachel over twice. “I was so right about that dress on you.”
Rachel heard the bathroom door close. She stepped out of the apartment complex, her arm stretched out toward the street.
“Taxi!”
***
Sam stood at the bar, speaking with the bartender when Rachel arrived. She eased her way through the rows of tables and watched his eyes light up when he noticed her approaching and smiled.
“Hey, you're early,” He said, pulling Rachel into a hug. “You look great.”
“I needed time to set up and do warm ups,” She examined the stage. “There's a piano.”
“We already have someone to play for you.”
“It's a good thing I brought over some sheet music then,” Rachel said, opening up her purse.
Sam watched her dig through it and pull out a manila folder with sheet music inside. He chuckled.
“Where do you find all this sheet music?”
“I like being prepared. Do you mind if I perform these songs?” She said, handing them over.
He glanced through it for a second and Rachel witnessed his brows knit together. She took back her sheet. Sam nodded, slowly easing his brows.
“Yeah, sure.”
Rachel was carefully stuffing her notes back into her bag when she said, “You can't read any of these can you?”
Sam shook his head.
“I have to get everything ready for the party, but you can set up backstage.Thanks again for helping me.”
He placed a gentle hand on her lower back as he moved pass her. Rachel watched him return to the bar table in a heated discussion again. She made her way to the back room in search of the pianist.
***
“Rachel, are you ready?”
The smooth tune of Rachel's voice rung down the hall, leading him to the sound room. Sam wedged himself between a pile of boxes, making sure not spill his drink as he moved. She finished the last of her scales and took a deep breath. He came over, a sense of pride flashing on his face. He brushed a piece of hair off Rachel's shoulder. She rested a hand on her hip and started to pace.
“Relax, you'll be great,” He said.
“I'm not nervous,” She watched him smile. “Alright, I am. Do you mind?”
Her eyes sauntered over to to his cup of liquor. Sam handed it over.
“Yeah sure, I brought it for you, actually,” He said, watching Rachel take a sip.
She cringed, drawing the cup back and eyed it.
“Whiskey?”
She handed it back.
“I figured you needed something strong.”
“I'm not particularly fond of whiskey, but thank you Sam.”
“Just, try not to freak out, okay,” He said, pulling Rachel into another hug.
She struggled to smile when she met his blue eyes. He quietly let himself out. Rachel released a heavy sigh. She smoothed her gown, keeping Kurt's words in mind and exited.
***
Rachel lip trembled the closer she got to the stage. The clack of her heels sounding as got on to the stage and squinted. The spotlight settled on to her and she took the mic from its stand. With a deep breath, Rachel closed her eyes, focusing on the presence of the stage. When she was ready, she lifted her head. The moment she let out the first note, she felt the eyes of the audience on her. Some people had stopped mid conversation awestruck. She gazed through the spotlight, realizing Sam was staring at her from across the bar. She shifted her attention to the front of the crowd, two women, sitting, looked at her just as intently as Sam. Rachel watched the blonde smile and lean over to whisper into her friend's ear. The woman with brown eyes looked at her as the second woman nodded and grinned. She felt shivers crawl along her arms. She squeezed the handle of the mic. The last tune was belted out and the spotlight faded. Rachel's senses were overtaken with the booming sound of applause and she walked off, feeling a rush of excitement pump through her chest. Rachel pushed her way through the crowd. She a ten minute break before doing another set. She took a seat at the bar.
“You were amazing,” Sam said, joining her.
She turned around to see Sam had a friend with him. She was slightly taller than him, blonde and with the same icy blue eyes.
“Rachel, this is Brittany. The birthday girl.”
“Nice to meet you. Happy Birthday.”
“I'll get us some drinks,” Sam said, leaning on the counter to catch the bar tender's attention.
“You're an amazing singer,” Brittany said. “Sam hasn't told me much about you. I had no idea.”
Rachel gulped.
“Thank you, how long have you known Sam?”
“Not very long. We met at my dance studio. He wanted lessons.”
Sam returned with three shots of vodka. He noticed Rachel's furrowing brows.
“We're celebrating,” He said, handing out the drinks. “Happy Birthday Britt.”
They raised their glasses and knocked back the cups. Sam slammed his hand down with a grin of triumph. They sat a moment in silence, that made Rachel shift in her seat. Had it been her choice she would have left after, but she had three more sets to do. She noticed someone approaching them and Brittany's face lit up.
“Mercedes, you came!”
“Hey Britt, of course I would,” Mercedes said. “Hi Sam.”
“How's LA,” Brittany said, jumping off her stool.
She began to walk off with Mercedes, a trail of chattering behind her before getting lost into the crowd. Rachel sat at the counter with her shoulders hunched up. Sam kept his back to the counter, leaning back. Lost in her thoughts, she started to tap her fingers against the counter.
“Tall, blonde, pretty, and she can dance,” Rachel said, catching Sam's attention.
“Rachel.”
“Why didn't you tell me she's your girlfriend?”
Sam sighed, facing her.
“And how could I tell you? It hasn't been very long since we broke up,” He said. “You would have said no.”
“You're right. It's been three months.”
“I'm sorry, I didn't know how to tell you.”
Rachel scoffed, “You're dating someone and you led me on?”
Sam ran a hand through is hair.
“It isn't like that. I wanted to support you,” Sam said, his jaws clenching. “Can't we be professional about this?”
Rachel shook her head. “It was a mistake coming here.”
“Excuse me, Rachel?”
They turned around to see the same blonde woman Rachel saw at the table next to the stage. Sam walked away from the counter.
“I'm a friend of Brittany. I heard you perform and you were amazing,” She said, holding her hand out. “I'm Quinn.”
The contact of Quinn's soft hands made Rachel shiver. She firmly held Rachel's hand with an air of confidence. She watched hazel eyes flicker as Quinn's smile broadened.
“Why don't we take a table to talk better,” Quinn said.
Rachel nodded, keeping her eyes pinned on Quinn in awe, while she followed her. The table was at the edge of the dance floor and there was another woman sitting at the table. She wore a beautiful white silk gown that contrasted against her bronzed skin.
“This is Santana, also a friend of Britt,” Quinn said, taking a seat across from her.
Rachel situated herself between them.
“You're beautiful,” Santana said, looking over Rachel's figure.
She blushed. Quinn leaned back, resting her hand under her chin.
“San is a fiend for fashion,” Quinn said, looking back to Santana with a scowl.
“Oh, I didn't,” Rachel trailed off, resting her hands on her lap. “Thanks.”
“Would you like a drink,” Quinn said, in search of a waiter.
Rachel contemplated for a moment. She came all this way and was having an awful night, so why not another drink? It was tempting after having to deal with Sam and his girlfriend.
“I really shouldn't. I'm on the clock,” Rachel said.
Quinn managed to finally flag down a waiter. She ordered a martini for herself and a shot for Santana.
“Just out of curiosity, neither of you are Sam's ex, right” Rachel said.
“Please, I can't stand having a conversation with trouty mouth afraid I'll get sucked into a dark hole,” Santana scoffed.
“You've dated Sam,” Quinn asked, she watched Rachel nod. “Really? Why are you-”
“It was a favor,” Rachel interrupted.
“You've met Britt?” Santana asked.
Rachel slowly rose to her feet.
“I should get ready for the next set.”
Quinn took a hold of her wrist.
“You can hang with us if he tries to talk to you again.”
Rachel smiled, “Thanks.”
She returned back to the stage a feeling of ease running through her.
***
Rachel breezed through all three songs. The rush of the stage and energy of the crowd was enough to let her forget the conversation with Sam. She would leave the restaurant in a happier state of mind had Sam not approached her when she left the stage.
“Rachel, please,” He said, blocking her in the stairway.
“I'm not really in the mood Sam. I've done what you asked,” Rachel huffed. “Isn't that enough?”
Sam sighed, rubbing the back of his head. He glanced at his feet and nodded.
“Yeah, thanks.”
She brushed pass him. Quinn made her way through the crowd with Santana next to her and a drink in hand. Rachel knocked it back with a heavy sigh of relief.
“You had a long night,” Quinn said, taking Rachel's empty cup. “Let me buy you a few more rounds before you go?”
Rachel had no reason to stay now. She was professional as Sam requested. She didn't want to be here either. Quinn smiled at her, waiting with the empty cup in hand. She watched Quinn's eyes simmer to a golden flicker.
“I'll take tequila.”
***
Rachel's lips were numb on her second shot. Quinn and Santana held their liquor much better, a total of three shots but showed little signs of its affect. They decided to end their drinking binge as Rachel had trouble concentrating. Quinn placed a hand on Rachel's thigh, rubbing her thumb over the exposed skin. She shivered.
“I think we've had enough to drink,” She said, carefully watching Rachel react to her touch. “You look flushed.”
Rachel heard Santana's chair scrap along the floor and felt her hand clamp around her forearm. She gulped, feeling the tips of Santana's fingers run down her arm. She looked back at Quinn starstruck. Santana's hand tied around Rachel's wrist and lifted her hand to thread her fingers through Rachel's.
“It's probably time you head home, right Rachel,” Quinn said, smirking as Rachel's chest rose from her quick intake of breath.
“Y-Yes.”
“It was nice meeting you Rachel,” Santana whispered, watching Quinn reach for Rachel's bag and pulled out her cell. “We should meet again sometime.”
Santana's hand rubbed along the curve of Rachel's thigh. Rachel felt the flutter of plush lips kiss her neck and she whimpered. Quinn punched a stray of buttons onto Rachel's phone and put it back into her purse. She stared back into Quinn's eyes, forgetting that she felt Santana's mouth pressed against her skin.
“I've called you a taxi,” She announced.
Rachel whimpered at the brush of Santana's fingers against her inner thigh.
“San,” Quinn warned, glancing over Rachel's shoulder.
Rachel frowned as she lost contact of Santana's skin. She looked back to Quinn.
“Goodnight Rachel,” She said, raising from her seat.
She watched Santana smoothly stand and follow Quinn. Rachel leaned back into her seat and exhale.
***
“Ugh,” Rachel groaned, steadily rolling on to her stomach, stirring under her quilt.
A sharp pressure of a headache pounded away at her temples, trailing to the back of her skull. She was a casual drinker and one shot before hitting the stage was a regret, but having the other three after was one of her biggest mistakes. She felt as if her brain was a scrambling mess trying to make sense of the simplest task. Rachel slide through her loft with the only intention of getting a cup of water and then back to bed. Kurt noticed her enter the kitchen from the couch.
“Finally, you're up,” He said, racing toward her. “So, tell me, how was it?”
Rachel groaned and opened the fridge. She headed to the table with a pitcher of orange juice. She was hungry, but doubted she would keep food down.
“It was a disaster,” She whined. “I met Sam's new girlfriend. It was a party for her.”
“Awkward,” Kurt cringed.
The faint ringing of Rachel's cellphone went off from the living room.
“Hello?”
“Rachel,” She said, causing her hands to shake. “I was just checking in. I'm glad you made it home safe.”
Rachel gulped, through her hazy thoughts she wouldn't be able to forget Quinn's voice. It paralyzed her for a moment with excitement.
“Oh, yes, I'm fine.”
“I was wondering, are you free for dinner later on tonight?”
“I have the night shift today. I'm free tomorrow,” Rachel said, biting her bottom lip.
“I'll see you tomorrow then at 7 at Le Bernardin.”
Rachel felt her face stretch into a grin in agreement. She put her phone back down, a twist in her stomach forming. Kurt was staring at her, confused and suspicious.
“What?”
“Who was that,” He said.
“Quinn. I met her last night,” Rachel said.
Kurt studied her a while longer.
“What aren't you telling me?”
Rachel tapped her fingers against her thigh. She remembered the moments before leaving last night. The way Quinn stared at her and how smooth and enchanting her voice was. The touch of Santana's lips on her. Rachel felt her skin break out in goose bumps.
“Dating is far from my mind right now Kurt.”
He walked back into the living room, flicking through the TV. Rachel continued to fix breakfast in silence.
***
Kurt helped Rachel pick a second dress, no questions asked this time. He was curious, giving Rachel glances as they drew closer to putting together her outfit, but Rachel refused to bite. They worked together in silence and Rachel was on her way out the door thirty minutes before seven o'clock.
“Kurt I'm leaving,” She said, before opening the door. “Oh.”
Standing in the the door way was Sam, caught in mid-knock. He stepped back, nervously shuffling his feet along the hallway floor. Rachel stepped out, closing the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?”
“I uh,” Sam sighed, rummaging through his jacket pocket. “I came to give you this.”
He produced an envelope. Rachel gingerly took it into her hands and glanced inside. She scoffed.
“What is this?”
“The 300 I owe you,” He said. “I added a tip.”
Rachel closed the envelope and handed it back.
“I can't accept this,” She said. “This is 400 dollars.”
“It's what we agreed on. I insist.”
Rachel clutched the envelope in her hand.
“I'm sorry,” Sam said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn't mean to-”
“I have somewhere to be.”
“Yeah, okay. I'm leaving,” Sam said, making his way down the hall.
She stuffed the envelope into her purse. Rachel waited for him to disappear from her eyesight before she headed to the elevator.
***
She spotted Quinn and Santana at the table nearest to the window, two tables down. She waved, seeing Rachel make her way. She took a seat across from them.
“We ordered appetizers while we waited,” Quinn said, picking up her cup of water.
A waiter came and filled a cup for Rachel. She picked up the menu, just as the waiter left. She held the menu in a vice grip as her right leg started to shake. She bit her lip, glancing between Quinn and Santana.
“We're glad to hear from you again,” Quinn said. “Given the circumstances.”
The waiter returned with a plate of raviolis lathered in vodka sauce and topped with spinach. They devoured the four pieces of pasta. Rachel licked her lips and took two large gulps from her cup.
“I have to say, we're both very interested in you,” Quinn said, swishing her cup in her right hand.
The corner of Santana's mouth twitched into a subtle smirk. Rachel glanced to her lap and sighed. Her left hand bunched up the side of her dress. Santana sat back, a hand tucked under her chin and the right one on the armrest.
“Oh, uh,” Rachel stuttered.
“What is it that you do,” Quinn said, placing her cup on the table.
“I'm a waitress full time at Spotlight. I attended NYADA.”
Santana's head tilted as her brow arched.
“You've graduated?” Quinn asked.
“Yes, last year. I've been auditioning for plays since,” Rachel said, squeezing the fabric of her clothing an inch tighter.
Their waitress returned.
“Are you ready for your entree?”
“Yes, please,” Quinn said, smiling back at Rachel for a moment.
Santana crossed her legs, staring at Rachel as Quinn placed orders. Rachel clutched her napkin. She moved between staring at the table and Santana's mocha brown eyes. Rachel took in a breath of air and bit her bottom lip to stop the chill down her back. She peeked back at Quinn who had the same sly grin. Rachel gulped.
***
The conversation was light and friendly through the remainder of their night. It was pleasant, as Quinn continued to ask general question of Rachel's current life, but she delved little into her life before New York. When the chatter died down it was agreed between all three of them that they order dessert.
“I'll be honest with you,” Quinn started. “There's a reason why I wanted to see you again.”
She shifted closer to Santana, her hand reached out, resting on to her thigh.
“Santana and I are a couple,” Quinn leaned back, keeping her hand on Santana. “And we're both interested in you.”
Rachel stiffened.
“W-What?”
“Oh for the love of-we want a third!” Santana scoffed.
“San,” Quinn said, with a frown.
“What? If we sit here and date her we're never going to get to the lady lovin',” Santana turned back to Rachel. “You're taking too long.”
Rachel watched them, speechless.
Quinn rose a brow, her jaw clenched shut. Santana rolled her eyes, focusing back on Rachel.
“Well?”
“Um,” Rachel said, looking between the two.
“I should be specific. We're looking for another sub,” Quinn crossed an arm over her chest. “Are you interested?”
Rachel felt her face flush. The heat started at her cheeks and rushed to her cheekbones before spreading to her neck. She studied Quinn for a second then Santana. She watched Quinn kept a firm hand on Santana's thigh which caused Santana to shiver in response. How could she have not seen this before?
“Are you freaked out,” Quinn asked.
“No, I'm familiar with-” Rachel paused, leaning forward. “This kind of kink, but how far do you go with it?”
Quinn snickered.
“I'm impressed. You aren't completely vanilla as we thought,” She said, with a grin. “I have a proposition for you.”
She pulled a manila folder from her purse and placed it on to the table.
“This file details our requirements and preferences, however it is all subject to change once you have stated your limits and interest,” Quinn watched Rachel retrieve the folder from the table. “We are flexible to any of your needs.”
Rachel glanced over the first three pages of the file. She gulped, closing the folder. Quinn took a hold of Santana's hand, placing it on the table as she kept her eyes on Rachel.
“I,” Rachel took a deep breath. “This is extensive. I need more time to read this.”
“Of course,” Quinn said, with a nod of agreement. “Please contact me within a week's time. My contact number is on the last page.”
Rachel tucked the folder into her purse. The waiter to their table returned with a bowl of ice cream and a slice of cake, which Quinn and Santana shared.
***
Rachel didn't touch the contract for three days. She skimmed through it on the train home the day of the dinner. The agreement was something new to wrap her head around. Then a waitress at Spotlight quit and Rachel was left with double shifts. The contract was forgotten and she came home too exhausted to think of nothing other than to sleep. It was on the fourth night when Kurt found it and Rachel had just stepped through the door from a 12 hour shift.
“What is this,” He said, flaring his hand with the contract above his head.
Rachel stumbled through the door, her eyes locked on his hands and frozen in place. Kurt marched over, his right hand on his hip. Rachel's gaze shifted to her feet.
"Is this a joke," Kurt said, flipping through the pages of the contract.
"Kurt, I told you to stop going through my things," Rachel said, her hand outstretched to collect it.
“You're really into this stuff,” Kurt's jaw dropped. “I feel like I don't know you. Why didn't you tell me? You're not going to sign it are you?”
He stared at her, wide-eyed. They had been roommates for five years and Rachel had trusted Kurt enough to tell him of her sexual orientation, but she wasn't comfortable enough to tell him this. She snatched the contract and placed it into her room. He followed her, standing in the door way with the same stoic face. With a scoff, he shook his head, trying to comprehend the situation.
"Rachel?"
"How exactly would I tell you and why? It's something personal,” Rachel said.
“Wait, is this why you broke up with Sam?”
Rachel's shoulders bunched up. Kurt gasped.
“It's one of the reasons, okay. He didn't feel comfortable with tying me up and-”
“Stop right there before I die of a heart attack!” Kurt wailed.
He took several deep breaths, clearing his throat with a short cough. His face a lot less panicked and more collected.
“So you're just going to sign yourself over to someone who will?”
“I don't know, maybe. What's it to you," She said, glaring.
"For a year? Rachel it's two women," Kurt huffed.
"That's negotiable."
"And 24/7?"
Rachel sighed, running a finger through her bangs. She crossed her arms with a frown.
"Also negotiable,” She said, sighing. “Kurt, I know how to take care of myself. I've been in this for a while.”
"But was it with two other people? Are they married?"
Kurt pursed his lips, shaking his head as he paced over to Rachel's dresser. She cupped a hand around her bicep. She didn't expect Kurt to understand and she didn't expect him to agree, but this was something he'd had to accept, even if Rachel didn't want to tell him.
"I haven't with two other people at the same time, but it'll be with two subs and they're a couple," Rachel said, biting her bottom lip. “They propositioned me and I've been thinking it over for some time now.”
"Is this safe?"
"Kurt."
He let out a dry chuckled.
"Excuse me for being concerned. I don't know how this...life style works, but I do care enough to ask," Kurt scoffed. “Are you doing this because Sam couldn't deal with your...preferences?”
She dropped her hands to clasped together in front of her. Her eyes casted down to the floor for a moment before lifting her head back in Kurt's direction.
"Okay, I know you care and that you'll never really understand this, but it's my choice and I'm careful," Rachel said, dropping her arms to her side. "That's why that contract is there. It also has nothing to do about Sam."
"Alright,” Kurt said, with a quick nod. “I'll trust your judgement. Please be careful Rachel."
Rachel pulled Kurt into a hug. He smiled and excused himself for his nightly face wash routine. She stuff the contract on her dresser into a drawer and slipped on a tank top and shorts.
***
The papers were signed the following morning. She made sure Kurt was gone before she read over it a second time, taking her time to go through her requirements as a sub. She didn't notify Quinn until she was on the subway to work.
Rachel
I've made a decision
She received a text during her night shift that day.
Quinn
Brunch tomorrow at the loft. 684 52nd street and 1 Avenue. 4a
Rachel shivered, reading over the text two more times. Quick and to the point, but demanding as she pictured it being said by Quinn herself in her authoritative nature. Rachel bit back a whimper and picked up her phone.
Rachel
Okay see you there
***
Rachel was an anticipating mess when she approached a luxury condo complex. It put her loft apartment in Bushwick to shame. The doorman greeted her before allowing her to enter. Santana answered the door with her usually coy stare.
"Rachel," She said, her voice playful and smooth. "Come in."
She entered, lacking the coolness as Santana as her steps were quick and short, but she did her best to remain level headed. Quinn was already in the kitchen, closing the oven door and fiddling with the timer.
“Hello Rachel, please, sit,” Quinn greeted, motioning to the chairs at the island table.
She took a seat, gripping her wrist, and vigorously running a thumb over the curve. With a slow inhale, she leaned her elbows against the island table, biting her lip. She can smell the sweet aroma of salmon from the oven. A pair of striking green and brown flecked hazel eyes stared back at her, with a much more calm posture. Quinn brushed a hand through her blonde locks. Santana remained seated. Quinn retrieved three cups from the cabinets.
“Mimosa,” She asked.
“Yes please.”
She filled the cups and joined Rachel at the island. Santana was the first to take a sip from her cup.
“Let's move to the couch,” Quinn said, leading them in to the living room.
Rachel examined the condo in awe. It had a dinning area, kitchen, living room, and balcony.
"Your home is beautiful," Rachel whispered, settling on the love seat.
Quinn sat across from her with Santana by her side.
"Thank you, I hope you didn't mind meeting here instead. I needed privacy,"
"Oh no, it's fine," Rachel said, taking a swig from her glass.
Quinn placed her wine cup down.
"Rachel, be honest with me," She said, crossing her leg over her lap.
Her attention went to Quinn's bare legs as she shifted her weight and caused the edge of her skirt to rise. Rachel nibbled her bottom lip and dropped her cup.
"We aren't in play and nor are we in a 24/7 lifestyle," Quinn said, smiling as she caught Rachel's eye again. "You need to make it clear in what you will allow and feel comfortable with. That's why we have meetings."
"Right, uh, yes okay," Rachel said, nodding.
"You've considered our offer," She said.
Rachel gulped.
"Yes, I've had some time to think it through," She said, ceasing her hand.
Quinn nodded, her eyebrow arched, before she reached over her seat for her purse. Santana kept her eyes on Rachel, looking her over carefully with a coy smirk. Quinn sat up, extending her hand out with a stack of sheets.
"I've called you for another request. It isn't stated in the contract, but before we can begin we'll need a bill of health and Santana and I will do the same," Quinn said, leaning back into her chair.
"Yes, of course," Rachel agreed.
“I'm sure you have some questions. Which I would like to go over before reading the contract.”
“I, um, how long have you two been together,” Rachel asked, looking between them.
“Six years and we aren't married,” Quinn said, taking a hold of Santana's hand.
“Not yet,” Santana mumbled.
Quinn scoffed, side eyeing Santana.
“I've been doing this practice for five years,” Quinn said, studying Rachel for a second. “Do you mind that I ask you something?”
Rachel shook her head.
“How much have you delved into this kink?”
Rachel blushed.
“Well, I-I just like being bound, but I've never done anything besides tape and handcuffs,” She said, refusing to make eye contact as she explained.
“But you're willing to experiment?”
Rachel nodded. Quinn grinned.
“How much do you know about this?”
Rachel shook her head saying, “Not much.”
“Are you familiar with terms?”
“Terms?”
Santana chuckled with a devilish grin in place.
“We have so much to teach you,” She whispered. “I'm going to like this.”
Quinn picked up the contract, going over the sections Rachel circled and notes scrawled on the sides. She looked Rachel over for a moment, causing her leg to shift.
"A year," Quinn said, a finger rubbed against her chin. "You're sure?"
Rachel nodded.
“You just keep surprising me,” Quinn said, a charming smile in place.
The oven beeped and Rachel jumped. Quinn looked back at the contract..
"Santana, would you please?”
She headed toward the kitchen. Rachel briskly reached out for her cup and took a large gulp. She heard clattering of plates behind her. Quinn put the contract down. Santana returned, taking her place.
"The table is set miss.”
Rachel's hand tightened around her cup. She hasn't heard Santana address her as a dominate. Quinn's left hand rested on Santana's leg, caressing the skin that showed through her dress. Taking a closer look, Rachel hadn't noticed the diamond choker that rested on Santana's neck either. Rachel felt her jaw clench. They were already in play. Quinn closed the contract and left it on the coffee table.
"We'll need to speak into detail of any of your specific interest and request. Money isn't an issue I assure you." She said, rising to her feet. “In the meantime, let's eat.”
Santana steadily followed after. Rachel watched them in awe, watching the way Santana stride beside Quinn with her air of dominance. She witnessed Quinn's arm stretch out and curl around Santana's hips. She pulled her close to her and gave her rear a firm squeeze. Rachel released a shaky sigh.