Sapphic Seduction

The Lady Gardener-2

Fortunately, Verity’s coat was a decent one—fully waterproof on the outside, with a nice fleecy inner lining. Her head, legs and feet might be damp and chilly, but at least she was warm from neck to hips. She shook her head. “It’s okay, thanks. It’s lovely and dry on the inside, and is keeping me warm. It’s the rest of my clothes I could do with taking off!”

As Bea turned to see to the now-boiling kettle, Verity could have sworn she smirked, just a little. But she couldn’t be sure, so she said nothing.

Clinking, and the opening and closing of the fridge door and the bin lid, were the only sounds for a few moments, as Bea made the two cups of tea. She picked them up and walked over to the table, then handed Verity a steaming mug with a smile. “Here you go. Hopefully that’ll warm you up a bit.” She put her own drink down and reached a hand out towards the radiator. “Though that seems to be kicking in, too.”

“Thank you,” Verity replied, cupping her hands around the mug. The scorching heat was too much for her hands, really, but she relished the warmth and willed it to whizz around her body and into the parts that needed it most.

“So,” Bea said, fixing Verity in her keen gaze, “what brings you to Biddulph Grange Gardens?”

Verity shrugged. She didn’t want to get into all that annoying, depressing crap. Especially not with a stranger. A sexy stranger. “I come here fairly often, actually. I just like taking some quiet time out. It’s pretty here.” Then, in an attempt to steer the topic elsewhere, she added, “I’m surprised I’ve never seen you here before. Have you been working here long?”

Screwing her face into a thoughtful expression, which made adorable crinkles appear on either side of her nose, Bea said, “Um, a year or so, I think. I’m surprised we’ve never met before, either. But then, this is a big place.”

“True. Where are the other gardeners? I thought they’d have taken refuge, too, given it’s still throwing it down with rain.” She indicated the small window, beyond which the deluge was still in full flow.

“It’s just me today, through several freakish occurrences. One day by myself won’t do any harm, though. Gardening is such an ongoing thing that whatever I don’t manage today will still be there tomorrow. And once I get to the end of my to-do list, it’ll be time to start all over again.” She grinned, showing that it wasn’t a complaint.

“Well, you and the rest of the team do a marvellous job. It’s beautiful here, and so peaceful.” She blew on her tea and took a couple of tiny sips, finding it cool enough now to drink.

Bea nodded. “Thank you. I must admit, it doesn’t feel like a job, not really. I’m just helping to make the place the best it can be. So it’s nice to know folks appreciate it.”

Raising her eyebrows and indicating the window once more, Verity quipped, “Bet nobody’s appreciating it right at this second. But yes, generally speaking, I’m sure people very much appreciate it. I certainly do.”

Smiling, Bea supped at her own drink, and the two women fell into a companionable silence, their gazes fixed on the windowpane and the veritable monsoon beyond it.

As she drained her mug, Verity hugged her coat tighter around herself, already shuddering at the thought of going back out into the cold rain.

Bea must have clocked her movement. “You don’t have to rush off, you know. I’m certainly not picking up my tools again until this has blown over. So if you want to stick around a while, that’s fine by me. I’m going to try to get my clothes dried out a little, too, so you’re welcome to do the same. I’m sure I’ve got some overtrousers you can put on for a little while. Not exactly high fashion, but they’ll spare your blushes.”

Verity’s gaze strayed towards the door. “Umm...”

“No one will come in, honey. There’s no one else here. But I’ll lock the door, if it makes you feel better.” She jumped up and crossed over to the door, then inserted her key into the lock and twisted it. “Okay? It’s just us girls.”

Verity hesitated. It was all a bit odd, but if her only option was to sit it out here until the clouds stopped emptying themselves, then she should at least be a little more comfortable. If she sat in these wet jeans and shoes any longer, with her hair sticking to her neck and face, she was going to end up with a cold, or worse. “All right, thank you. I don’t suppose you have a towel I can use for my hair?”

With a nod, Bea disappeared into a cupboard and emerged with two towels, handing them both to Verity. “Not exactly luxury, but they’re clean. Get yourself as dry as you can. I’ll find those overtrousers. Then when we’re sorted, I’ll get the kettle on again.”

“Thank you.” She took the towels and placed them on the table for the moment. Then she set about taking off her shoes and socks, placing them next to the little radiator. They wouldn’t be dry by the time she had to put them back on, but at least they’d be in a better state than they were now.

A glance across the room told her Bea’s attention was elsewhere—she was digging around in yet another cupboard. So, after shucking her coat and hanging it on the hook beside Bea’s, she set about removing her jeans. She laid the sodden jeans on the floor beside her other discarded items, then gave her feet and legs a rough rub down with one of the towels, bringing merciful warmth back to the flesh as well as removing the dampness.

She was just about to wrap the towel around her waist and grab the other one for her hair when an exclamation drew her attention.

Bea stood there, black material in her hand, presumably the overtrousers, her eyes wide, and her gaze fixed on Verity. “s**t,” she said, turning her back. But not before Verity had seen the blush staining the older woman’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I should have made sure you were decent. Here you go.” Still facing away, she reached back, aiming the trousers in Verity’s direction.

Allowing herself a small smile at the other woman’s embarrassment, Verity took the garment with thanks and slipped them on. “Okay,” she said, “I’m decent now.”

Turning around again, Bea gave a tight smile, a charming pinkness still adorning her cheeks. “That better?”

Verity nodded. “Much, thanks. I’m just going to dry my hair the best I can. It’ll feel better when it’s not dripping down my damn neck and back.”

“Do you need a T-shirt, too?”

“I’m okay. Go ahead and get yourself dried, too. I don’t want you catching cold, either.” Verity then towel-dried her hair, figuring she’d just have to finger-comb it once she was done. Painful, but better than heading back outside looking like she’d been dragged through a bush... multiple times. Or maybe Bea had a brush or comb she could borrow.

Turning, she opened her mouth to ask, then promptly closed it again. Bea had taken refuge behind the open cupboard door to change her trousers, but as she’d bent to towel her feet and legs, her bottom stuck out from behind the door.

And what a bottom it was. Hidden beneath grubby, baggy trousers all day, no one would ever guess what a peachy arse the lady gardener possessed. Firm, high cheeks, bisected by a black thong, which only served to highlight the paleness of the skin. No surprise, really, given Bea’s red hair.

A warmth that was nothing to do with tea, the radiator, or the rub down, began trickling through Verity’s body, building especially between her legs. She sat back in her chair with a thump. God, really? Not so much as a sniff of attraction to anyone in months, and now she was perving on this green-eyed, red-haired, probably straight as a die, gardener? Maybe the cold and damp had gone to her head.

But still, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Bea had straightened up by now, but a tantalising slice of naked skin was still visible from behind the door, and Verity couldn’t resist moving her chair—if asked, she was moving closer to the radiator—to get a better view.

Her mouth dry, she observed the gorgeous woman slipping into another pair of baggy gardening trousers, and silently lamented the covering up of that delightful arse. But she contented herself with committing the image to memory. She could always wheel the image out later, when she was alone, perhaps in the shower, or in bed, and assuage the increasing ache between her legs with a vigorous rub down of an altogether more intimate kind.

“Need a hand?” came Bea’s voice from right beside her.

Verity started. She hadn’t even realised she’d closed her eyes.

Without waiting for a reply, Bea took the towel from Verity, moved behind her, and began to gently squeeze and dab at her rain-soaked hair.

The movement, the gentle tugging at Verity’s scalp, caused yet more heat to zip between her thighs, and her clit began to throb, increasingly eager for contact. Shifting slightly on her chair, Verity squeezed her legs together tightly, hoping for some relief.

“You’ve got beautiful hair,” Bea said, rubbing a little harder now. “So long and thick.”

“Yeah,” Verity said dryly. “But it’s a pain in the arse in situations like this. Takes bloody forever to dry.”

Bea’s chuckle, so light and carefree, made Verity’s stomach flip. f**k, she was going to have to get out of here, before she said or did something completely inappropriate. “Well, I’m doing my best with what I’ve got to hand here. I’ve got a brush and some hair ties. I can plait it, if you’d like. It’ll at least keep it under control until you can get home and get in the shower or bath.”

“Thank you, that would be great.” The unwise words were out before Verity could stop them. Bloody hell—how was having her hair brushed and plaited going to stop the inappropriate thoughts, and the throbbing in her clit?

As Bea moved off to get the brush and hair ties, Verity threw a panicked glance over to the window. f**k’s sake—it was still raining! There was no escape. She’d just have to keep a lid on it until she could leave. At the rate she was going, she’d be m**********g in the car, never mind waiting until she got home.

Seconds later, Bea returned to her place behind the chair and began brushing Verity’s thick mane, apologising almost constantly as she gently worked out the tangles. The sharp pains, far from killing Verity’s arousal, seemed to stoke it further. She closed her eyes, trying to occupy her mind with other thoughts, anything that wasn’t what was happening in the here and now.

It worked to an extent, as she only realised that Bea had finished when her voice came from in front of Verity. Verity opened her eyes just in time to see Bea reaching out to tidy strands of hair around her face, tucking them behind her ears.

The contact felt intimate, somehow, and a gasp left Verity’s lips before she could stop it. Their eyes met, and almost immediately, inexplicably, the atmosphere changed. All thoughts of messy hair and wet clothes disappeared from Verity’s head as Bea continued to stroke her hair, then shifted her hands down to cup her cheeks.