Free Summer Girl by Casey Grant

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her, and rubbed her nose against Brie's. “I could never do anything
to hurt you, Brie.”
    “Because I couldn't take it, if you did.”
    Tamera's smile disappeared, a concerned look
appearing on her face. “Do you think I could ever talk to you the
same way I talked to Tony Fugleson?”
    “You kinda just did,” said Brie.
    “I won't. Ever.”
     
     
    The day was spent taking care of Jackie. Brad
and Tamera stayed in their separate home offices, either on
conference calls or buried in briefs. Whatever issues Brad and
Tamera had confronted in their midnight fuck session, they seem to
have been resolved. Both were friendly and affectionate. In the
afternoon the two of them took a break and sat out on the lawn
playing with Jackie. Looking down at them from the window Brie felt
left-out for the first time. It starting feeling like all this
togetherness with the Merles was an illusion that would leave a
bitter aftertaste.
    Dinner was served at 7:00 pm, prepared by
Brie (Beef Stroganoff). The three of them stayed up watching a new
print of “Is Paris is Burning.” a favorite of Brad's.
    In the morning Brie awoke to Tamara packing a
small overnight bag. Their eyes met and Tamera smiled as she zipped
up the bag. She walked over to the bed wearing jeans and a
short-waisted un-tucked shirt. She leaned over and kissed Brie,
“I'll see you Saturday.”
    Brie lingered in bed another twenty minutes
and then got Jackie up and got her breakfast. By mid-morning she
was sitting in the living room watching Project Runway while
listening to Brad in the other room talking to people on the other
side of the world and as close as Overton.
    “Brie!” Brad yelled a few minutes later. Brie
walked into the office as multiple voices came out of the speaker
phone. Brad reached over and hit mute. “This call really sucks,” he
smiled. “I need some eye candy to get me through it.”
    “Okay,” said Brie, spinning coquettishly in
front of him, “What would that be, Mr. Merle.”
    “Go into our bedroom closet. Tamera has a
blue mini-dress that she never wears out of the house. Find a pair
of her extreme heels to go with it.”
    “Classy,” said Brie. “Where's Jackie?”
    “Dozing in her crib,” said Brad.
    She found the dress that Brad wanted hanging
in Tamera's huge walk-in closet. She put it on and understood
immediately why Tamera never left the house in it— it was as
combustible as dry tinder. The stretched fabric wrapped around her
so tightly that it felt a little obscene. In her smallest bikini
she felt less exposed than in this dress. Because Tamera was a
little smaller on top than Brie, Brie's breasts were spilling out
over the top. She found a pair of heels that had to be at least
five inches tall, no doubt fitting Brad's job description. Looking
in the mirror she was surprised by how much she liked what she saw.
She loved her long legs, how the heels brought out muscle groups
that were mostly hidden by flats. And those breasts. Yes! She always felt a little top heavy. But not here. They looked
exquisite. The dress wrapping each breast individually with an
opening in the middle that gave a glimpse of cleavage. She flipped
one side of her hair to her back and the other side to her
front.
    When she returned to Brad's home office, he
was in mid-speech. “... you might try for an injunction,” said
Brad, “But I'm not sure what how much teeth that has in
Singapore—shit...” Brad said, looking up and catching Brie in his
field of view.
    “What-what was that?” said one of the
callers.
    “Oh, uh... it’s just that on the ground
Singapore copyright law is frustrating,” Brad said leering at Brie.
Some more voices could be heard on the speaker jumping into the
conversation. Brad motioned for Brie to get closer. As other folks
on the conference call picked up on the conversation, Brad slid his
hands underneath the short mini-dress. Brie felt herself go wet in
an instant, a blast of electricity emanating from her