Roadblocks by Fronimos D.J. & Lakey Elke

Author:Fronimos, D.J. & Lakey, Elke [Fronimos, D.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: JMS Books LLC
Published: 2022-08-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 26: Alex

Having showered and washed her hair with what she’d figured were Silke’s shampoo, conditioner and gel, Alex put on her comfort clothes: black jeans and a black turtleneck sweater. Studying herself in the mirror, she took pleasure in the perfect fit of both and the clear lines but then, knowing that Silke didn’t like her in all black, added a large silver necklace. It was one of her favorites. Silke had given it to her on her birthday three years ago after Alex had admired the piece in a store window during one of their strolls in downtown Munich. Alex wouldn’t have bought it for herself—too pricey—and wouldn’t have asked for it either, so she had been genuinely surprised when she’d unwrapped it. She’d worn the necklace when they’d made love that night, nothing but the necklace.

Alex smiled at herself in the fogged-up mirror, remembering just how hot that night had been and how wild. Though they both had their quirks when it came to sex, it had always been good between them, furious and fulfilling.

“Remember that, Schatz ,” she whispered, touching a finger to Silke’s portrait on the dresser. “Remember how good we were! Are.”

A car pulled up outside and she watched a young woman jump out and walk up the drive. Seconds later that ugly old dog of Lauren’s was barking his head off, but mercifully it didn’t take long until Kayla clomped out and laboriously climbed into the back seat along with the other woman.

“One down, two to go.”

That took a while, though, and Alex had just considered rejoining the women in the kitchen when she heard steps in the hall. Ana’s loud voice reached her.

“Bye, Lauren, and thank you for the coffee.”

Lauren mumbled some pleasantry that Alex couldn’t understand but it didn’t matter. From her vantage point on Silke’s bed she had a clear view of the street, and sure enough there was Ana, striding confidently toward a big black truck. God, that woman was so butch it was pathetic! Not unattractive if one didn’t mind the extra twenty or so kilograms. And her hair was positively gorgeous, full and curly. Shrugging, Alex turned to look at her silky locks, masterfully colored by Dennis every six weeks. There was something to be said for natural black, she supposed. Her own cut was better, though.

Somewhere in the house, a door opened and closed, then opened again. Dishes were being cleared and none too happily, judging from the banging. Voices rose and fell again. She could make out Silke’s which, even muffled by the door, sounded defensive.

“It’s your own fault,” Alex chided the gleefully grinning Silke in the snapshot. Silke hadn’t been so gleeful yesterday and was an utter mess this morning, looking as if she’d neither slept nor looked in the mirror. Nor showered, Alex realized, and she slid off the bed and started to pull open drawers. Pajamas and shorts, tank tops and shirts, slips and bras and socks. And Silke’s pants and nicer tops were in that built-in closet along with her suitcase and a bunch of other stuff.

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