Fated to You

Chapter 22 - And the saga continues...

With a muffled groan, in attempt to reduce her cries, Freen's voice breathily confesses, "I hate you."

It has been a few minutes since Becky should have stopped in order to end the last twenty minutes of her second wish but her tongue seems to be having a mind of its own. Although she had stopped, at some point, before the tierce of the ending time period to retrieve a chair which she placed right before Freen's widened front and dug in once more. She had kept silent for the last few minutes, focusing on the task at hand, even more profusely so than she would pay attention to the growing threat of the country's economical market. Becky's well aware that her time is up but, again, her tongue has a mind of its own.

"You don't have to like me. I'm your boss, not your friend." Her mouth full, she dragged her eyes away from the appetite that seems to be keeping her tongue prisoners of liberty to move at will and ease.

"And to think that I used to be in love with you – Fuck!" The latter word came out as weak and frail as her muscles extract from underneath her abs. "Becky, this is ridiculous!"

Becky's eyes roll away in frustration to later slide down on Freen with an amused expression, "Honey, who gave you permission to address me as something other than Ms. Armstrong?"

"Again," Freen's knuckles tighten around the edge of the desk upon which her back is arched, "To think I used to be in love with you."

"Whether or not you are in love with me is still debatable." Becky knew exactly where to run her tongue in order to have Freen scream her name once more as she did on the phone.

This was no longer about the bet; this was a quest to discover Freen's weakest points once again.

Baffled by Becky's response, Freen had to assemble the nonexistent courage to rest her weight on her elbows. And what a surprising revelation was it to her to have been able to find the much needed strength. Miracles can happen after all. "What do you mean debatable?" She though of the nonsensical term to describe her inconsistent feelings regarding this woman that she has almost made her soul mate and wife.

Becky finally lifts up her head to give her attention to Freen. She licks her lips as she takes out a small towel within the pocket inside of her formal jacket to wipe her mouth as though to pick any left residue from the devoured meal.

Freen watches her actions and blushes violently. She hastily changes her line of vision to avoid the awkward eye contact. Becky, however, seems to be unfazed, as if this was as natural as nurturing a firstborn with breast milk.

"Debatable?" Freen grimaces as her eyes rest on a mirror on the wall above the small waiting area.

Becky leans back on her chair, "Yes, I believe you are with faux cop just to make me jealous."

Freen does deliberately turn her head towards Becky in protest, "That's not tr-..." she stops short when she realizes that her legs are still wide open for Becky to stare. She quickly closes them and gets off the desk. "That's not true." She finishes.

Becky laughs, "You can say whatever you want but I'm now too sure that Freen, you don't want anybody else but me."

"What makes you feel so confident?" Freen asks.

"Do you need me to give you a recap of the restroom incident? Or the fact that you insisted on taking care of me when I was sick?"

Freen lifts up a finger, "Wait a minute! Would you rather have me ignore a sick person and walk away? I'm human after all."

"No. That was different and you know it." Becky insists, "You can't deny it Freen. Stop faking and come true to me. You are in love with me."

Freen turns away from Becky as she rises off the chair to stand behind her. She was now centimeters away from embracing Freen with her body heat. However, the heat rose off in Freen's head the minute Becky's resolution hit and she could no longer ignore the truth. But she can't admit it. "You see. That's why it is so unhealthy for us to work together. Because stuff like that happens."