Billie walked a step ahead, slowing when something caught her eye, and Debra drifted closer when Billie spoke. They weren’t filling the space with random conversation. Instead, they let their thoughts gather while their bodies breathed alongside one another. It felt…unexpectedly comfortable.
“This one is beautiful,” Debra said as she stopped before a portrait of a woman half-turned from the viewer, her expression unreadable and intimate all at once.
Billie stepped up beside her and angled her head. “Hmm. She looks like she’s keeping a secret.”
“Perhaps she is,” Debra whispered, her hand brushing Billie’s as they gravitated closer to one another.
“What kind?” Billie turned her head and pinned Debra with her stare. “A filthy one?”
“I hope so. Those are often the best kind.”
Billie dipped her gaze and smiled, shaking her head. “You’re terrible.”
The air changed around them, but Debra batted any thoughts of a naked Billie from her mind. She couldn’t focus on those ideas while she was strolling around a museum. Her mother would turn in her grave.
They drifted together through the different areas, each new painting or sculpture sparking small, revealing conversations. Debra learned the way Billie’s mind tilted towards detail and symbolism, to those parts of a story most people walked past without noticing. And Billie? Well, she listened when Debra spoke.Reallylistened. As though every word she offered mattered.
It had been years since anyone had made her feel that way.
When they reached a narrow corridor of sculptures, dimly lit and almost forgotten, Debra felt Billie’s presence shift. Not outwardly—Billie was far too disciplined for that—but her focus honed in, concentratingentirelyon Debra.
“This area is quieter,” Debra said. “Let’s take our time around here.”
“Almost private,” Billie replied.
Those words settled deep inside Debra as she turned towards Billie. “You always look so composed.”
“It’s a habit,” Billie said.
“Do you think it’s one you’ll ever break?”
A faint laugh slipped from Billie. “If you don’t stop tempting me, I’ll break it far sooner than I plan to.”
Debra looked up at her. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not after what I experienced with you last night.”
A mixture of surprise, yearning, and unchecked emotion flickered across Billie's face. She stepped closer, her hand brushing Debra’s wrist, those gentle fingers grazing the inside where her pulse beat too quickly to hide. And then her voice dipped lower as she said, “You really shouldn’t look at me like that in public, Debra.”
“You only have yourself to blame.”
Billie leaned in, her breath brushing Debra’s cheek. “Debra…”
“Y-yes?”
“If we stay here much longer.” Billie dipped her mouth towards her ear. “I’m going to forget where we are, and I’m going to forget it fast.”
A thrill rushed through Debra, but she didn’t believe a word Billie was saying. “You wouldn’t. Even I know that.”
Billie’s control slipped another inch when she lifted her hand and traced the line of Debra’s jaw with a soft stroke that made her knees weaken. Her eyes narrowed as her grip tightened ever so slightly. “You want to try me?”
Debra’s breath caught, her body leaning into that touch despite the distant sound of voices coming from the main gallery. Billie’s fingers lingered at her jaw, her thumb grazing the edge of her lower lip in a way that sent heat pooling low in her belly. The corridor felt even smaller now, the sculptures standing sentinel in the shadows, their marble forms blurring as Debra’s focus narrowed to the woman before her.
“Billie,” she whispered, her voice laced with a plea she hadn’t meant to say out loud. “W-we shouldn’t. Not here.”
Billie’s eyes darkened, that composed façade cracking enough to reveal the hunger beneath. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” Her hand slid down, trailing firealong Debra’s neck and over her collarbone, before settling at her waist. Her touch was light, almost innocent, but the intent behind it made Debra’s pulse thunder.
They were alone here, the soft footfalls from afar the only reminder of the world beyond the hidden nook they’d found themselves in. Her skirt suddenly shifted as Billie’s fingers toyed with the hem, brushing the bare skin of her thigh.
“What if someone comes?” Debra asked, even as her body arched towards the contact.
