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“Promise. Ains…everything that just happened, I wanted. And I want more.”

Despite having just come recently, Ainsley’s clit pulsed at the predatory look Rachel was giving her.

She smiled.

“Unfortunately, we will have to wait until after dinner. I suspect we are almost there.”

“God,” Rachel began, “I need to clean up!”

“Me too,” Ainsley said. The fingers of her right hand were still sticky with Rachel’s arousal, which was going to make it difficult to get dressed again without marking her clothes. Rachel had it a bit easier as Ainsley hadn’t undressed her during their recent playtime. Still though, the realtor’s dress did need some adjusting also.

“Hold up,” Ainsley said, “I have just the thing.”

With her left hand, she brought her purse closer and managed to open it one-handed and extract a travel pack of sanitizing wipes.

“Not very romantic, I know,” she said, “but, hey…doctor.”

Rachel laughed.

“It’s perfect,” she said. “After all, I’m sure the patrons of Q would prefer us not to be touching common surfaces considering where our hands have been.”

It wasn’t only their hands which needed cleaning. Both women had leaked quite a bit of come onto the leather seats they’d just had sex on. Rachel took care of that with a wipe while Ainsley finally got dressed again. They then each examined the other to make sure that nothing was out of place and that their dresses weren’t stained in odd places. Once that was done, the kissing resumed. Ainsley couldn’t help it. She’d wanted to kiss Rachel seconds after meeting her and now she got to do it whenever she wanted.

Eventually, though, the limo stopped.

Rachel moaned and it was such a sexy sound to Ainsley’s ears.

“Can’t we tell him to go once more around the block?” Rachel asked, ghosting Ainsley’s lips with her own.

Without removing her face from its close proximity with Rachel’s, Ainsley used her eyes to find the intercom button and pressed it.

“Once more around the block, please,” she instructed the driver.

“Yes, ma’am,” driver responded.

Rachel giggled.

“Are we…” She kissed Ainsley. “…going to be late…” Another kiss. “…for our reservation?”

After kissing Rachel back for a long moment, Ainsley stopped just long enough to say, “Didn’t I tell you who my father is?” And that was it for talking.

All too soon, however, the limo stopped again in front of the restaurant.

Ainsley sighed.

“Okay, this time we are doing this for real,” she said, reluctantly pulling away from Rachel’s lips with a laugh. She told the driver via the intercom that they were ready and then they waited for him to open the door for them to exit.

“Dr. Janowicz!” the maître d’ of Q greeted when Ainsley and Rachel walked through the doors. “So lovely to see you again!”

Being Valentine’s Day, the restaurant was at capacity with well-heeled patrons. In a wonderful sign of the times, though, as they were led through the dining room, Ainsley saw that several of the tables were occupied by same-sex couples on this romantic holiday.

The maître d’ escorted them to an amazing table which provided a bit of a secluded feel.

Dad’s name strikes again!

Having such a prominent and public figure as her father had its advantages—like scoring an all-but-impossible to get reservation at this restaurant—but Ainsley rarely traded on it. Growing up as she did among privilege and wealth, she had known too many people who had grown up with her who simply expected things be given them. But Ainsley’s parents had instilled an actual work ethic in her, forcing her to earn what she wanted. The new job at Scripps Memorial, for instance. With her mother’s name so prominent in Southern California’s medical community and her father being who he is, Ainsley probably could have gotten her new position with no more effort than a couple of well-placed phone calls. Instead, she had earned it by busting her ass to become one of the most respected young surgeons in the state. (Although, after offering her the job, the director of Scripps Memorial had told her what a boon it would be for the hospital to have a Janowicz on staff.)

“So…” Rachel said, once they were sat at the table. “I seem to recall the maître d’ saying ‘So lovely to see you again.’”