THE DARE (G!P Freenbecky)

Chapter 8

Becky was two-thirds of the way to the altar when she glanced up and saw Anda and was amazed that she looked even vaguely human.

'Not bad, considering how ghastly she looked this morning. And that was quite a kick I gave her.'

Then she glanced to her side and saw Freen. Her heart sped up. She was standing next to the groom, resplendent in a tuxedo, absolutely gorgeous.....and looking at her with a puzzled expression on her face, as if trying to place her.

'Uh-oh.'

Could she possibly know who she was? That expression on her face unnerved her, and all of a sudden she felt totally exposed, as if Freen somehow had a sort of X-ray vision and could see beneath her Brown hair and sheer makeup to the woman with the short black wig and black eyeliner. To the woman with the mask who had danced and danced and danced, and had smart-mouthed her at every turn.

Now she knew exactly how superheroes felt, trying to hide their secret identities.

For one awful moment, Becky was sure she was going to ruin her best friend's wedding, the culmination of all her hopes and dreams for her future.

She caught Freen's eye, smiled tremendously, tried to look innocent, and was rewarded by a look of complete and utter puzzlement on her handsome face.

'Gotcha.'

Still, it took every ounce of control she had to keep her face serene and composed, to look at her as if she'd never seen her before in her life, when in reality she'd been as close to her as was humanly possible last night.

Then she kept her attention off her as she reached the altar and positioned herself to the side of where the bride would stand. Lookkaew came down the aisle on her father's arm, glowing with love and basking in the attention of close friends and family, and thankfully, for the moment, all eyes including Freen's were focused on the bride.

When Lookkaew reached Anda's side, she turned to Becky, handed her the bridal bouquet, and moved closer to Anda, her face filled with the absolute love and trust she had in her.

Becky's eyes filled; her heart felt as if it were going to choke her, the emotion filling her was so intense. Lookkaew was truly a gentle soul, and if ever a woman had been meant for marriage and a family, to be cared for and looked after, it was her friend. She so deserved it, and Becky found herself deeply happy for her friend. She looked like an ethereal fairy princess in her wedding finery, that exquisite veil covering her face.

Becky could sense someone's eyes on her, and glancing over in the direction of the groom, she saw Freen still looking at her intently. Like Lois Lane snooping around after Clark Kent.

She'd fix her. Nothing was going to ruin this day.

Becky gave her a watery, teary, emotional smile, as any good bridesmaid might do, then glanced down. Shy. Demure. That was the image to go for, the total opposite of last night.

The ceremony began, as the minister said the age-old words that would bind this Woman and Woman together.

And like a little silvery blue moth to a huge, white-hot, deadly flame, Becky couldn't resist sneaking glances at Freen.

She was gorgeous.

Life was so unfair. If life were fair, Freen would have been sitting down in one of the pews, where she couldn't see her. Or she would have caught a cold and stayed home. Or pulled a muscle from all that strenuous activity they'd engaged in last night. Or at least sported a zit on that perfect face.

But no. Gorgeous. In her face. Right in front of her.

Her knees turned to water at the thought that the two of them would be walking down the aisle together, in reverse, of course. How strangely appropriate. But the thought of her touching her again.....

'You can do this, you can do this.'

She kept repeating the tiny mantra to herself as she watched the wedding, trying to keep her eyes off Freen. Impossible. She was deadly, she was yummy, she kept remembering all the things they'd done, those talented lips, those sure hands, that—

She couldn't believe she was having a Technicolor sex fantasy in the middle of her best friend's wedding!

Then the organ music jarred her out of her thoughts, and Becky realized Lookkaew was kissing Anda, her veil had been lifted off her face, and everyone in the church was looking at the newly married couple.

Except Freen Chankimha, of course, whose attention was focused directly on her. Becky tried not to squirm, but her gaze felt like one of those red laser dots on someone's forehead in an action adventure movie right before a high-powered assault weapon blew them away.

'What's wrong with this woman?' She looked nothing like Mon; Brown versus Black hair, demure versus blatant sexuality. How could the woman have mixed up the two of them? She had to have some sort of personal radar where she was concerned.

'Damn Freen Chankimha!'

Though she really liked the fact that she was no dummy, this whole deception was going to be trickier than she'd thought.

As Anda and Lookkaew started down the aisle to joyous music and the murmurings of family and friends, Freen realized that she was about to get up close and personal with the maid of honor as they walked down the aisle. What had Anda said her name was?

Becky something or other, from England.

She looked familiar, but she just couldn't place her. She dug her nails into her palms in an effort to regain some sort of mental clarity, to banish any of the slight sleepiness she'd felt during the latter part of the ceremony. After her all-night marathon with Mon last night—

'Mon? No. Impossible. And yet—something about her eyes. That damn twinkle.'

Then she was standing next to her, offering her, her arm, noticing the way the slightest of pink blushes rose up from her bodice into her neck.

This woman was a total innocent, not an exotic dancer.

And yet......

"Great wedding," Freen murmured, for her ears alone.

"Yes," she whispered, and Freen had the oddest feeling.

She suddenly flashed back to her den, the dimly lit room, as she reached for Mon beneath the down comforter, pulling her up on top of her so she could see her as she straddled her. She'd placed her hands firmly around her slender waist, then moved her thumbs so they could both slide down and caress that most sensitive part of her.

'Yes!' She whispered. 'Yes!"

She decied she was going insane, seeing Mon in every woman she met. Because this woman couldn't be further in looks and temperament from the mystery woman of the night before. Brunette, while Mon had black hair; fragile and shy, while Mon had been brazen and sexually adventurous, utterly fearless.

Then they were caught up in a whirl of people in the church's vestibule, and she excused herself. She watched her move through the crowd, then decided she needed to see Mon again. Bad.
Because she was seeing her in every woman she met.

'That was too close. Way too close.' Becky thought.

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A/N: How was it? Next update tomorrow. Vote? Comment? Follow? See yaa <3