Chapter Text
Chapter 17 - Play Dirty
“Stop flirting,” Becky warned, but the lightness in her tone betrayed her amusement.
“I can’t help it,” Sarocha replied, running her fingers along Becky’s cheeks. Then, her expression softened again. “But seriously, if you need me to slap anyone—well, I can call Danie.”
Back at Chankimha Entertainment headquarters, Danie and Jenny were busy in interviews, questioning every employee who had been on the floor the previous day. It had taken hours of non stop talking, and Jenny was beginning to think they were no closer to finding the culprit.
“Alright, Jack was the last one,” Jenny groaned, slumping into the interrogation chair. She rubbed her temples before dramatically spinning her chair around to face the glass walls of the conference room. From their vantage point, they could see employees nervously glancing in their direction, the anxious energy making everyone seem suspicious.
“It could be any of them,” Jenny muttered, her frustration evident as she crossed her arms.
Danie, lounging in her seat, smirked as she unwrapped a lollipop and popped it into her mouth. “I know who did it,” she said casually, as if the past hours of interrogation had been a light stroll in the park.
Jenny stopped mid-spin, her chair screeching slightly as she turned to glare at Danie. “What?” she asked, disbelief dripping from her tone. “What do you mean you know who it is? Did you know this whole time?”
Danie grinned wider, clearly enjoying Jenny’s reaction. “Of course,” she said, leaning back nonchalantly. “It’s my job to be observant. I figured it out before we even started questioning people.”
Jenny’s jaw dropped, and she threw her hands in the air. “Then why, why , did I just waste my entire morning talking to people if you already knew who it was?”
Danie’s chuckle was almost villainous as she sat up straighter, her lollipop shifting to the other side of her mouth. “Because I like making people nervous.” She tilted her head, her grin turning mischievous. “And, torturing you is also wildly entertaining.”
Jenny groaned loudly, burying her face in her hands. “You’re the worst,” she mumbled.
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Danie teased, standing up and stretching lazily. “Come on. Let’s go make someone’s day really, really bad.”
Jenny sighed, dragging herself out of the chair. “You better be right,” she grumbled as they headed toward the door.
Danie tossed a wink over her shoulder. “Relax. I’m never wrong.”
“That’s a lie.” Jenny mumbled as she followed her friend out to confront the person.
They made their way to the far corner of the office floor, stopping beside a desk where a young woman sat typing. The employee, Beth, slowly turned to face Danie and Jenny, her expression a mix of playing innocence and someone who knew they were caught.
“Seriously…” Jenny muttered under her breath, the realization dawning on her as she caught the look on Beth’s face.
“Beth,” Danie said calmly but firmly, “I think HR would like to see you now.”
Beth’s shoulders slumped, knowing there was no point in arguing. Danie, with her unyielding air of authority, was practically head of security without the title. Beth stood up and the trio headed toward the elevator.
Inside the cramped space, the tension was thick. Jenny broke the silence, her voice sharp. “Why did you do it?”
“Money,” Beth replied without hesitation, her tone indifferent. “People pay a lot for gossip about her.”
“Who paid you?” Danie interjected, her voice low but demanding. “I don’t buy that you’d just decide to pull something stupid like that on your own.”
Beth sighed, rolling her eyes as if bored by the interrogation. “Some retired actress. She approached me a few weeks ago, paid me to put her daughter on the audition list. Promised to pay extra if I could give her some dirt on Sarocha.” She paused, her lips curling into a slight smirk. “Since I don’t worship the ground she stomps on like you two, I figured, why not?”
Jenny’s jaw tightened. “Hope the cash was worth it,” she said coldly as the elevator dinged open on the HR floor.
Beth shrugged, walking ahead with an air of defiance. As they approached the HR office, she glanced over her shoulder, her voice laced with sarcasm. “This place is overrated anyway. Plenty of other teams out there.”
Danie snorted, leaning slightly toward Jenny. “Let’s see how many of those people want to hire someone who sold out their boss,” she said loud enough for Beth to hear. Beth didn’t respond, but her smugness faltered as they reached the HR door. Jenny crossed her arms, watching her go inside before turning to Danie.
“How did you know it was her?” Jenny asked as they walked back toward the elevator.
Danie smirked, “She was the only one with her phone out on the CCTV during that time.”
Jenny froze mid-step, her jaw dropping. “You saw those videos before we even started the interviews…why did we waste all that time talking to everyone? Ugh!” She threw her hands up dramatically as she stomped toward the elevator.
Danie chuckled, her amusement evident. “I’m an equal opportunity type of person.”
“Bullshit,” Jenny shot back as they stepped into the elevator.
“You’re right,” Danie admitted with a laugh. “It was just fun.” She leaned casually against the wall, watching Jenny’s annoyed expression. “Admit it, you enjoyed playing detective. I saw how you grilled those employees like a pro.”
Jenny crossed her arms, glaring at Danie trying not to smile. “I wasn’t playing; I was protecting our boss.”
“Sure,” Danie replied, smirking. “Where is she, anyway? I need to brief her on our findings.” Danie added.
“She’s over at Armstrong Media,” Jenny explained, the tension in her voice easing slightly. “Staci came by earlier, asking if she could talk to Rebecca. By the looks of it, something serious happened because our boss got up and left immediately.”
Danie raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Guess I’m heading there, then.”
“Oh, when you see her,” Jenny added as they reached the lobby, “remind her the press conference is scheduled for 3 p.m. in the studio. I’ll meet you both there.”
“Got it,” Danie said, stepping out of the elevator and heading toward the exit. “Try not to interrogate anyone else while I’m gone.”
Jenny rolled her eyes. “Just go.” Danie chuckled as they parted ways.
Danie made it over to the parking lot of Armstrong Media just as Sarocha emerged from the front doors, a radiant smile lighting up her face. Not one to miss a moment, Danie waved dramatically to catch her attention and strode over to meet her boss.
“Well, someone’s in a good mood,” Danie teased, taking in Sarocha’s almost-giddy demeanor.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sarocha replied, her smile growing even wider as she replayed the tender moments she’d just shared with Becky in her mind.
“I mean, I guess I’d be smiling like that too if I got to kiss my girl every five minutes while at work,” Danie teased, her smirk growing mischievous. She leaned in and pointed to the corner of Sarocha’s mouth. “You’ve got a little something… just there.”
Sarocha instantly wiped at her lips, her expression turning mildly alarmed. Danie, unable to hold it in, burst into laughter.
“I hate you,” Sarocha muttered, realizing she’d been duped.
“Sorry, boss. You’re just too easy to mess with when you’re in love,” Danie said, still chuckling.
“Who said I’m in love?” Sarocha shot back, though the faint pink dusting her cheeks betrayed her.
“Fine. In lust then,” Danie corrected, smirking as Sarocha’s blush deepened.
Sarocha rolled her eyes, trying to regain her composure. “Remind me again why I keep you on my payroll?”
“Because you need friends,” Danie retorted with mock sincerity, earning a light slap on the arm. “Hey!” Danie yelped, faking the pain. “What is Rebecca doing to you? You’re more aggressive these days. At this rate, I’ll need a bodyguard to protect me from you.”
“Keep talking, and I’ll show you what aggressive really looks like,” Sarocha replied playfully, though her small, unshakable smile betrayed her fondness for the banter.
“Normally, I’d say don’t threaten me with a good time, but I don’t need Rebecca coming after me,” Danie quipped with a grin as they began heading back to the office.
Before Sarocha could retort, both women paused as a sleek, expensive car pulled into the lot, immediately followed by a familiar car—the one Sarocha recognized as the one that had abandoned Becky on the roadside.
Curiosity piqued, Sarocha tugged Danie aside to observe the newcomers discreetly.
“Who are we spying on?” Danie whispered.
“I don’t know yet,” Sarocha admitted, her eyes narrowing on the scene. “But I’ve got a feeling it’s Becky’s brother.”
“Do we not like Becky’s brother?” Danie asked, intrigued.
“No. Not right now,” Sarocha muttered, recalling Becky’s earlier frustrations.
Their suspicions were soon confirmed as a short, sharply dressed man stepped out of the second car and approached the first. The door to the luxury vehicle opened to reveal an older woman, exuding wealth and self-importance, draped in head-to-toe designer brands.
“Do you know who that is?” Danie asked, interrupting Sarocha’s thoughts.
“Oh, I know exactly who that is,” Sarocha replied with a sharp edge. “She’s a former big name in the industry—one who now spends her time being a royal pain. She’s been trying to get me to sign her daughter, but I’ve refused.”
Danie gave a curious look. “Interesting. Beth, the one who leaked the photo, mentioned that some old actress paid her to get her daughter onto the audition list and dig up dirt on you. Think that’s our person?”
Sarocha’s jaw tightened. “I wouldn’t put it past her. She wasn’t thrilled when I told her that her daughter didn’t meet our standards.”
Danie raised a brow. “Looks like she’s trying to get Armstrong Media to sign her daughter now.”
“Not if I can help it,” Sarocha said firmly. Without hesitation, she strode boldly toward the pair, as Danie followed closely behind. As they approached, the older woman noticed them, her expression shifting into a polite mask.
“Sarocha Chankimha,” the woman greeted, her voice dripping with faux sweetness. “Aren’t you on the wrong side of the street? Oh, wait,” she added with a smug tilt of her head, “I hear you’re mixing business with pleasure these days.” Her tone was laced with disdain.
Sarocha smiled back, her expression calm, but her eyes told more of the story. “What brings you here? Paying for work again?” she shot back smoothly, her words razor-sharp. Danie, standing just behind Sarocha, stifled a chuckle but couldn’t hide her smirk as Sarocha’s quick wit was clearly hitting its mark.
At that moment, Richie stepped forward, invading Sarocha’s personal space. “I suggest you speak to my guest with some respect,” he spat, his face far too close for comfort.
“And I suggest you move your short little legs back a few hundred steps before I do it for you,” Danie said coolly, stepping forward to place herself between Richie and her boss.
Richie ignored her entirely and moved even closer, his audacity evident. Danie immediately shifted to stand fully in front of Sarocha, her protective instincts kicking in. He attempted to shove Danie aside and the unexpected move caught Danie slightly off guard, causing her to stumble just enough to give Richie the opening he needed. He turned his attention back to Sarocha, jabbing a bony finger into her shoulder and pushing her back a few steps as he snarled, “Control your dog and stay away from my sister. I know exactly what you’re doing—using her to steal our business.” He punctuated his words with another forceful jab, nearly causing Sarocha to lose her balance.
Before Richie could do more, Danie recovered and acted swiftly. She grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back with practiced ease, and shoved him against his own car. “If you ever lay a finger on her again, consider it broken,” she hissed, her voice low and menacing.
Richie grunted in discomfort, but Danie didn’t release him until she was sure he got the message. When she finally let him go, she stepped back to her place beside Sarocha, her sharp eyes daring him to make another move. “Are you okay boss?” She turned to ask Sarocha who nodded with a simple smile.
“That was assault! I’ll be your witness, Richie,” the older actress declared, her voice rising in exaggerated outrage. “You should sue them,” she added, dramatically helping Richie into the building, casting furious glances back at Danie and Sarocha as they retreated.
Sarocha and Danie stood still for a moment, watching the pair theatrically disappear inside Armstrong Media. Finally, Sarocha turned to her bodyguard with a raised brow. “You really shouldn’t have done that.”
“My job is to protect you,” Danie replied with a casual shrug. “Besides, don’t tell me you didn’t want to slap him yourself.”
Sarocha sighed, but her lips curved into a small smile. “I did.” Both women burst out laughing at her blunt honesty.
“I’ll let you do it next time,” Danie quipped as they started walking back toward their building. “But right now, you need to get ready for the press conference. Jenny will kill us if you’re late.”
“She wouldn’t kill me,” Sarocha countered with a smirk. “You, on the other hand…”
Danie mock-gasped. “I should have let that boy man continue jabbing you with his baby fingers.” Still chuckling, the two crossed the street and entered Chankimha Entertainment, leaving the heated encounter and its theatrics behind them.
—-
An hour later, while Sarocha was finishing preparations for the press conference, Danie felt the need to address a potential issue. She wanted to ensure there were no misunderstandings about what had transpired with Richie earlier, particularly if he had twisted the story to suit his narrative. With that in mind, she decided to speak directly to Rebecca Armstrong.
Danie had already texted Staci, letting her know she needed a word with Rebecca and hoping she can help make it happen. As the elevator doors slid open, Staci was there waiting, arms crossed with an expression that suggested she had questions of her own.
“What did you do to Richie?” Staci asked without preamble, eyeing Danie suspiciously.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve,” Danie replied coolly. “What did he say?” she added with genuine curiosity.
“He definitely tried to play the victim,” Staci said with a wry smile, “but I don’t think Becky bought it.”
Danie smirked at that as they made their way down the hall. Approaching Rebecca’s office, Staci opened the door and gestured for Danie to follow her in. Inside, Rebecca was seated behind her desk, her expression shifting to mild surprise at seeing Danie. “Well, this is unexpected,” Rebecca said, leaning back in her chair.
Danie stepped forward with a calm yet firm demeanor. “I thought it’d be best to clear the air about your brother, so I asked Staci to help me get some time with you. I hope that’s alright?”
“Of course. Have a seat. Danie, right?” Rebecca replied with a sweet smile. Danie nodded, returning the gesture before taking a seat across from the young CEO.
“So, Richie said you assaulted him,” Rebecca began, her tone casual yet tinged with amusement, “but I’m inclined to believe you had your reasons.” Her smile didn’t waver, and Danie could see exactly why Sarocha was so smitten.
“Yes. My job is to protect Sarocha, and when he laid a hand on her—nearly pushing her over—I had to step in,” Danie explained plainly. “I also pulled CCTV footage from our front cameras if you’d like to see proof.” She reached for her phone, ready to present the evidence.
“I trust you,” Rebecca said simply, her eyes steady.
“Oh.” Danie blinked, momentarily thrown off. She had come prepared with a detailed explanation and evidence, expecting to defend her actions.
“You seem surprised,” Rebecca observed with a light chuckle.
Danie shrugged slightly. “A little. I mean, I figured you’d at least want the footage.”
Rebecca leaned back in her chair. “I’m sure you know about us by now, so if Sarocha trusts you, then I trust you. Besides, you were doing your job. Honestly, I’m more surprised his fingers aren’t broken.”
“I needed to keep it professional,” Danie replied with a smirk.
“I appreciate you coming here to clear things up, though,” Rebecca said. “That goes beyond just doing your job—it’s protecting a friend as well.” She paused, her smile turning teasing. “Should I be worried?”
“If it were anyone else, I’d say yes,” Danie quipped, “but Sarocha is so smitten with you that you’ve got nothing to worry about.” She leaned in slightly. “Don’t tell her I told you that.”
“No promises,” Rebecca replied playfully.
“Oh, one more thing before I forget,” Danie added. “I’m sure Sarocha will tell you about this later, but we’ve uncovered some details about the leaked photo. The person who took it mentioned that a retired actress paid them to get dirt on Sarocha. We suspect it might be the same woman who was with Richie earlier.”
Rebecca’s brow furrowed slightly. “She did seem a bit pushy,” she mused. “Thank you for letting me know. I’ll discuss it with Sarocha later.”
Before leaving, Danie glanced at Rebecca with a mischievous grin. “Does she let you call her Freen yet?”
Rebecca tilted her head, curious about the question, before offering a small smile. “I want to earn it,” she admitted, recalling how Sarocha had mentioned that only those close to her could use her nickname. It was a privilege Rebecca intended to earn in time.
“I like you,” Danie declared as she stood up. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around more often.” She gave a friendly wave before heading out, leaving Rebecca smiling at the unexpected but refreshing conversation.
—-
Back at Chankimha Entertainment, a small group of reporters bustled about, setting up their equipment as they waited for Sarocha to make her appearance. The room buzzed with chatter, cameras being adjusted, and microphones tested, creating a lively hum of anticipation.
The noise subsided almost instantly when a staff memeber announced, “Ms. Sarocha Chankimha is here.” All eyes turned to the left as the CEO walked in, her signature confident smile lighting up her face. She waved warmly at the small crowd, exuding both charm and authority.
“Sawasdee kha,” Sarocha greeted, her voice carrying across the room as she approached the podium. Pausing briefly, she exchanged a few friendly remarks with familiar reporters, effortlessly easing the tension in the room.
“You’re glowing today, what’s your secret?” one journalist teased.
“I’m always glowing,” Sarocha quipped back with a laugh. “Hurry, take a picture.” She added, subtly referencing the leaked photo
The room chuckled, the light-hearted exchange setting the tone for the event. Sarocha had always been skilled at navigating the press with ease, maintaining a balance of approachability and professionalism. It was part of what maintained her good relationship with them—mutual respect and an unspoken understanding that boundaries wouldn’t be crossed.
She clasped her hands together, her expression bright but focused. “Alright, shall we get started?” she asked, the air in the room shifting to one of attentive readiness as everyone leaned in, prepared for the CEO’s update.
“So, there’s a photo making waves today of you and Ms. Rebecca Armstrong looking rather… friendly ,” a reporter began, their tone laced with curiosity and amusement. The phrasing drew chuckles from the others in the room. “I think we all want to know—what’s the story? Is it real?”
“The photo is real,” Sarocha replied with a sly smile, her expression intentionally unreadable. She offered nothing more, clearly enjoying keeping them on their toes.
“Come on, Nong! You’re teasing us!” another reporter called out, leaning forward eagerly. “Are you two lovers?”
“ You’re teasing me,” Sarocha quipped back, a playful glint in her eyes. “Truthfully, I just met Ms. Armstrong.”
“So… love at first sight, then?” someone chimed in, drawing laughter from the group.
Sarocha tilted her head slightly, as if considering the question, before responding, “We’re getting to know each other. But I’ll make you a promise—if there’s anything to announce, you all will be the very last to know.”
The cheeky remark earned a round of amused groans from the reporters, who both appreciated and cursed her skillful deflection. Sarocha’s charm was undeniable, and she had once again managed to navigate a tricky question with ease while leaving them wanting more.
The press continued their attempts to pry more details from Sarocha, but she dodged their questions, leading them in circles without giving anything away. Just as the atmosphere began to relax, one reporter suddenly interrupted with excitement. “Breaking news—Armstrong Media has just signed Lila Santhavachart’s daughter, Olivia. There were rumors you were in talks to sign her as well. What does this mean for Chankimha Entertainment?”
The announcement caught Sarocha off guard, but her expression remained composed and unreadable. She quickly shifted into her professional mode, ensuring there wasn’t even a flicker of surprise visible. “To clarify,” she began with calm precision, “Chankimha Entertainment has never been in discussions with Mrs. Santhavachart or her daughter regarding representation. As for this development, I can only comment on matters directly related to our agency. I suggest reaching out to the involved parties for confirmation.”
Her polished response left little room for follow-up, and the reporters, knowing Sarocha’s reputation for professionalism, chose not to push further. The conference smoothly transitioned back to lighter topics, with questions about upcoming projects and future plans. By the end, the event concluded on a positive note, leaving the press satisfied and Sarocha firmly in control of the narrative.
As soon as Sarocha stepped away from the press conference, she turned to Jenny, her calm demeanor signaling she was already onto her next move. “Contact Rebecca Armstrong’s office and let them know I’m on my way. I need to talk to her immediately.”
Jenny blinked, caught off guard. “Again?” she blurted out before quickly realizing her mistake. “I mean—yes! Absolutely, doing that now!” she stammered, fumbling with her phone as Sarocha shot her a pointed look. Sarocha shook her head with a faint smile, walking briskly toward the exit as Jenny scrambled to make the call.
—-
Sarocha wasted no time making her way to Becky’s office. She was greeted by a sight that stopped her in her tracks—Becky, with her hair tied up in a ponytail, sleeves casually rolled to her elbows, her concentration on display.
“Twice in one day?” Becky teased, leaning back when she noticed Sarocha. “I’m starting to think you’re addicted to me, Ms. Chankimha.”
Sarocha closed the door behind her with a sly grin, her eyes lingering on Becky. “If I didn’t have important matters to discuss, I’d have you in that chair right now. You’re entirely too sexy for my sanity.”
Becky’s throaty chuckle filled the room as she stood, making her way over to join Sarocha on the couch. She leaned in, her lips teasingly brushing softly against Sarocha’s. “Alright, Ms. Chankimha, what pressing matters have brought you back so soon?” she asked, settling next to her with a raised brow.
Sarocha pretended to think, her lips quirking upward. “I can’t recall... Maybe a kiss would jog my memory.” She leaned in, but Becky placed a hand between them, stopping her in her tracks.
“Talk first,” Becky said with a teasing smile.
Sarocha let out an exaggerated sigh but quickly shifted gears. “Did you sign Olivia Santhavachart?”
Becky’s expression turned serious. “Not yet. Her mother came to see me today—she was relentless. I told her I needed to do my due diligence to see if Olivia was a good fit for us. Why?”
“The press is already reporting that you did. Lila’s spinning this to her advantage, claiming Armstrong Media signed Olivia. She’s trying to use her connections to cut corners. She hates me for telling her that Olivia wasn’t up to our standard,” Sarocha explained, her voice calm but laced with frustration.
Becky’s eyes narrowed. “I hadn’t heard about this. I’ll have my team look into it immediately and set the record straight. It’s likely Richie’s doing—he’s always trying to undermine me.”
Sarocha reached out, gently placing her hand on Becky’s cheek, tilting her face so their eyes met. “If you need help dealing with Richie, I’m happy to loan you Danie. She’d love the chance to knock some sense into him.”
Becky’s lips twitched into a small smile. “I appreciate it, but I can handle Richie. I don’t want you dragged into the drama.”
“Aw, you care about me,” Sarocha teased, lacing her fingers with Becky’s.
Becky rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her fond smile. She stood to put some distance between them, but Sarocha wasn’t having it. With a gentle tug on Becky’s hand, she pulled her down, causing Becky to fall into her lap. Becky yelped before wrapping her arms around the other woman.
“I really should finish some work,” Becky murmured, though she made no move to leave Sarocha’s lap.
“I can be work,” Sarocha teased, nuzzling into Becky’s neck. Her lips grazed the sensitive skin there before trailing up to that one spot just behind Becky’s ear—the one she knew drove her wild.
Becky shivered at the contact, her fingers tangling in Sarocha’s hair almost instinctively. “That means I’d have to put in some serious overtime,” she managed, her voice hitching as Sarocha’s lips found her pulse point.
A soft moan escaped Becky’s lips as Sarocha began to suck lightly on the spot. “No marks, baby…” Becky whispered, but the way she tilted her head, baring more of her neck for Sarocha, told an entirely different story.
Sarocha smirked against Becky’s skin, her voice low and teasing. “Baby huh? Take me to dinner first.”
“What do you call this?” Becky teased, “But we can wait I suppose…” Becky added before trying to get up again but Sarocha’s arm tightened around her waist.
Without another word, Sarocha shifted, her hands guided Becky to straddle her lap. Their lips met in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, heat building as tongues met to taste each other.. Becky’s fingers explored Sarocha’s shoulders, gripping with a mix of urgency and restraint as the kiss became more demanding. Her soft, breathless sighs mingled with the deep sound of Sarocha’s low chuckle.
Sarocha’s hands slid to the hem of Becky’s blouse, her fingertips grazing the bare skin underneath. Her touch was deliberate, mapping the soft, warm curve of Becky’s back, and the way Becky arched against her made her breath catch. Becky’s hands, trembling just slightly, drifted downward, finding the first button of Sarocha’s shirt. She paused, her gaze lifting to meet Sarocha’s.
The look in Sarocha’s eyes was dark and full of promise, her smirk equal parts teasing and electric. “Bon appetit,” she murmured, her voice like velvet.
Emboldened, Becky undid the button, her fingertips brushing against the toned skin of Sarocha’s chest. The contact sent a ripple of heat between them. Sarocha’s hands began to move in tandem, sliding up Becky’s sides in slow, sweeping motions that left no curve unexplored. Their kisses grew more fervent as Sarocha leaned forward, easing Becky back onto the couch cushions. Her lips broke away, trailing a line of fire down Becky’s neck.
Becky’s hands flew into Sarocha’s hair, nails digging lightly against her scalp as soft gasps escaped her. Sarocha’s lips moved lower, her tongue tracing the delicate dip of Becky’s collarbone before she placed open-mouthed kisses there, the sensations making Becky shudder beneath her.
“Sarocha…” Becky’s voice was a breathless whisper as her hips shifted instinctively against Sarocha’s.
The older woman stilled for a moment, lifting her head to look at Becky. Her eyes burned with desire, but there was a softness there, a tenderness that made Becky’s heart race even faster. “You’re beautiful,” Sarocha said, her voice a low murmur filled with awe.
Becky smiled, her hands cradling Sarocha’s face. Sarocha leaned down again, capturing Becky’s lips in a kiss that was slower this time, but no less passionate. Sarocha leaned her forehead against Becky’s, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Stay at mine tonight.” She whispered.
Becky grinned, her fingers tracing slow patterns across Sarocha’s cheek as she nodded her answer. Their lips met again, this time with a quiet intensity that promised they were only just beginning.
Rebecca: 0 - Sarocha: 0