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Vanessa crossed her arms and stood defiantly.

“Get out of bed now and come with me downstairs and do it,” she ordered.

Megan sighed but did as she was told. She wasn’t going to admit it to Vanessa right now, but, damn, that turned her on! She located her t-shirt on the floor and slipped it on, not caring that it was inside out.

“Don’t trust me?” she asked Vanessa as they left the bedroom together.

“Just looking out for you, is all, woman to woman,” Vanessa said. “Besides, your bed is super comfy; I know how hard it is to get out of it.”

“No one was saying you had to leave,” Megan grumbled and then clamped her hand over her mouth.

Shit!

They reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of the still-closed front door.

“Sorry,” Megan said. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Vanessa laughed.

“No need to apologize. We probably should have a talk about…” She turned her eyes skyward, as if searching for the right word.

“Sleepovers?” Megan offered.

“Right! And other things. It might be good to set some parameters on this.” She waved her hand between the two of them. “But not tonight. Tonight, I am going home to get some sleep because I have a business to run and I have to be lucid enough tomorrow to make correct change.”

An idea came to Megan. She chewed on it mentally for a second before saying, “Well, I want to have this talk sooner rather than later. How about I bring you lunch tomorrow at the coffeeshop?”

Vanessa beamed a thousand-watt smile.

“I love it! My lunches at the coffeeshop are always kind of sad. Usually, I’m scarfing a salad or some fruit behind the counter all by myself. I should warn you, though, even nowadays I sometimes get a bunch people coming in during lunchtime…”

“No problem! Ooh, maybe I can help!”

Vanessa quirked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Why not?” Megan asked enthusiastically. “My job is soooo boring; being at the shop might be fun.”

“Okay, you’re on,” Vanessa said. She put her arms on Megan’s shoulders. “Hmm, I wonder if I should make you wear a uniform?”

Megan grinned.

“Let me guess,” she began, “plunging neckline and micro-mini skirt?”

Vanessa shook her head.

“I was thinking more like latex-clad dom.”

Megan gasped. Her nipples had just turned to marble under her shirt.

“You need to leave now,” she said. “Or you won’t be leaving at all.”

***

“So that is six-forty, please,” Megan said to the cute brunette with a bob cut who had ordered a cold brew vanilla and caramel. The customer took out a card and Megan’s face scrunched up, trying to recall Vanessa’s tutorial.

“Is that debit or credit?” she asked.

“Debit,” was the answer.