Author’s Note: My third TH:M mystery pairing fic, this time featuring the prim and proper grifter Miranda. This one turned out a bit longer … Miranda had some baggage we needed to work through with a little help from her new friend.
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Rolling over in her bed, Miranda allowed her eyes to rest on the full moon peeking out from the cloudy night sky. Any other night she would have found it beautiful … but on this night it was just another reminder of a heartache she couldn’t escape. Of that night in Paris, the moonlight dancing across her pale skin and the satin sheets, the way those pale green eyes glistened softly in the darkness, their hands intertwined together as they drifted off to sleep…
With a frustrated huff Miranda sat up in bed, swinging her legs over the side to stand upright. Since her encounter earlier this evening with Marguerite at the casino, she couldn’t seem to get her out of her head. She could see the pain and regret in her eyes as they spoke, yet … it wasn’t her place anymore to comfort her. In fact, it was Marguerite’s decision that it wasn’t her place anymore. The thought alone shifted the sorrow in the pit of her stomach to a wave of anger, the back-and-forth swirl of emotions she had been battling all evening set in motion yet again. She needed to forget it all, to find something to numb the pain even if only temporarily.
Slipping a silk robe over her matching silk nightie, Miranda quietly exited her room and made her way down the hall to the main living area of the safehouse. The house was dark, everyone else most logically being asleep at whatever uncivilized hour of the morning it was. She padded towards the wet bar, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet along the way, and flipped the light on. Surveying the assortment of liquors on display, she didn’t notice the figure sitting on the couch behind her.
“I prefer tequila myself.” A low, husky voice rang through the barren room, causing Miranda to jump in surprise.
Still clutching her chest, Miranda turned around to study the person lurking in the shadows, almost completely hidden except for the light shining off those deep brown eyes. “My goodness, you scared me!” She took a deep breath, stilling herself and regaining her composure. A learned skill that often came in handy in her line of work … as well as her personal life. “I didn’t see you there.” She pivoted back to the shelves of bottles glistening underneath the lone sconce, her eyes finally settling on one. She was trying to clear her head, right? “Well, tequila it is.” She hoped her companion could not detect the defeat in her voice as she filled a glass, dropping in two ice cubes to finish it off.
Unsure of the proper etiquette for an early morning nightcap with a near stranger, Miranda settled herself on a high bar stool facing the solitary figure. She took a slow sip from her glass, surprised to find the smoky and sweet mixture go down way too smoothly. “So, you couldn’t sleep either?” She inquired politely before taking another sip.
“I’ve always been more of a night owl. Seems to come with the territory in this business.” Miranda watched them raise a glass to their lips, the light glinting off the crystal surface as it moved through the air. “What about you, Little Girl? Rough night I take it?”
Miranda gripped her glass tighter, a flash of anger rushing through her at this hardened criminal’s loose insult. Little Girl. Allowing herself a moment to focus, she drank another small mouthful of the calming liquid, letting it do its magic. “Tonight was indeed a challenging evening, but I believe the team is happy with the ultimate success we achieved.”
She heard a faint chuckle across the room, the tinkle of fingertips drumming the side of a glass. The figure leaned forward from the shadows, the smooth skin almost glowing in the dim light as they rested their elbows on their knees. “You’re good at spinning stories, Little Girl. I guess that’s how you ended up here in the first place.” Pausing, they cocked their head to the side to examine Miranda, the inescapable exposure causing her to shift uncomfortably in her seat. “I meant seeing your Princess. That had to be hard.”
Miranda swallowed hard, her eyes blinking quickly to whisk away the prick of a tear. The lie came out naturally, an acquired talent. “It was wonderful to see Marguerite again. But yes, we did not part on the best of terms before.” Her eyes dropped to her glass, swirling the ice around against the sides before lifting it to take another drink.
“I know a broken heart when I see one.” They took the last swig of their drink before setting it on the coffee table, then sank back into the couch, arms sprawled across the back. “Tell me – have you always been such a pushover, Miranda?”
“Excuse me?” She blurted, her eyes widening in shock. She wasn’t used to this bluntness, the straight-to-the-point and in-your-face discourse that gave her little wiggle room to dice her words. She was used to politeness, to small talk, to brushing things under the rug … her experiences with the rich and fabulous had made her an expert at manipulation. But this … this she was not prepared for.
So lost in her own head, Miranda had barely noticed her companion rising from the sofa, the strong muscular frame shifting closer … until they stopped right in front of her. Back in the moment, she found herself staring into the most captivating brown eyes. How had she never noticed the brilliant flecks of green and gold woven into those deep pools? Or the sprinkling of tiny freckles against that creamy tan skin? She thought that she saw something lurking behind the surface in those eyes … the danger she recognized, as intimidating as always. But underneath the fire there was a softness she had overlooked before, or perhaps never taken the time to notice.
She didn’t realize she was staring, or that she was holding her breath, until she felt the warmth of a hand cupping her cheek. “You have to fight for it. Fight for what you want.” The voice was no longer harsh, not accusatory … it was gentle, caring, comforting. A rough calloused thumb slid across her cheekbone, sending a shiver down Miranda’s spine and she felt herself melt into the touch. Their eyes locked, an unspoken understanding passing between them … a feeling sparked deep within her that Miranda hadn’t felt in far too long. She sighed complacently, a small smile curling her lips as she allowed herself to be drawn to this person-
Suddenly the hand dropped, the body backing away into the shadows. “Good night, Miranda.” She immediately felt the chill on her cheek where their hand had been, and a chill in her heart where the glimmer of hope was quickly extinguished. “I hope you’re able to find what you’re looking for.” And with a soft smile, they were gone.
Miranda sat alone in the dark, her heart racing from the intensity of their encounter. Every nerve in her body was tingling, the memory of that slight touch still imprinted on her skin. She rolled the words over in her mind, the wound of the initial blow now giving way to reflection. Have you always been such a pushover, Miranda? She had never thought herself a pushover, yet she had never been one to be aggressive. In her world, it was always underhanded insults, subtle slights … no form of conflict displayed out in the open. Maybe that’s why Marguerite had left, because she hadn’t pushed her hard enough to defy society’s expectations. She hadn’t fought hard enough for everything they shared when they were hidden from prying eyes.
You have to fight for it. Fight for what you want. The words resonated in her head, each time she repeated them stoking a fire deep within her. She didn’t want to be this meek, polite girl … not anymore. She wanted to be strong, to be fierce … she wanted something dangerous.
Tipping up her glass, she downed the rest of the fiery liquid. She stood upright, ignoring the slight dizziness in her head as she took off towards her target, unsure if it was the thrill of the chase or the strong drink blurring her senses. Scurrying down the hallway, she caught a glimpse of them approaching their bedroom, reaching for the handle- “Hey!” Her voice came out a harsh whisper, louder than she intended.
Turning towards the voice, Miranda’s prey wore a smug smirk on their lips as they paused in the doorway, watching with amusement as she hustled down the hallway. Miranda noted the way those dark eyes followed her, roaming the silky curves of her body as she moved, drinking her in with unmistakable desire. She would be lying to say it didn’t excite her to be desired, a feeling she felt settling in the pit of her belly.
“Yes?” That cocky smirk, the tilt of their head as they waited, knowing …
Miranda lunged forward, stepping up on her tip toes and lacing her fingers through their hair, crashing her mouth against that cocky smirk. As quickly as she had attacked she felt her back pressed against the door, her waist pinned against the wooden grooves in a firm grip, the soft moan from her throat stifled in the fierce kiss. It was nothing like she had ever experienced before … the pleasant sting of teeth nipping at her lips, quickly soothed by a slick tongue slipping past the seams of her mouth. How roughly those hands gripped her hips, pulling her tight against their body. That throaty hum of pleasure in her ear when those deft fingertips found the silk panties between her legs, already soaked in anticipation.
“That was a test, Little Girl. And you passed. Tell me what you want.” The voice purred in Miranda’s ear, languidly pressing open-mouth kisses along the sensitive skin of her neck. She struggled to focus, her mind a blur of so many inappropriate thoughts as those fingers continued to stroke her gently through the silk, just enough to tease her. But not enough.
“I want …” her voice dropped, her sense of propriety halting her tongue.
“Say it. Fight for what you want, Little Girl.” The soft whisper tickled her earlobe, sending another jolt of desire straight to her core.
“I want to feel you, I need your hands on me.” She couldn’t fight the begging in her tone.
“I guess that’s good enough for now.” Miranda could feel the smug grin pressed against her neck as those fingers finally dipped underneath the damp fabric.
“Oh fuck!” Her head fell back, mussing the hairs in her tidy bun, when she felt two slick fingers enter her. Her hips rocked forward, encouraging a steady rhythm as she lifted a leg to hook around their waist. When the third finger entered she couldn’t help but squirm, her hips rolling against them encouraging a faster pace. For a second she worried they would wake the others, the steady beat of her head against the door and her heavy pants gradually increasing in volume. But the thought was quickly forgotten when a strong thumb grazed over her clit, a surprised cry escaping her lips.
“That’s it, Little Girl. Say my name when you come for me.” Miranda barely opened her eyes, peering up from under her fluttering lids into those golden green-flecked eyes watching her intently.
For the first time ever it occurred to her … she liked the idea of being watched, that someone got off watching her fall apart at their touch. It made her feel bold and powerful, adding to the delicious pressure building inside of her as she rolled her hips fiercely. Her loud moans echoed in the hallway, so satisfyingly dangerous … “Nnggh, Lena!” The name tumbled from her lips as the world crashed around her, her body pulsing uncontrollably over and over in the most intoxicating orgasm of her life. She leaned forward, her body still quaking, pressing her forehead against Lena’s shoulder for support.
As Miranda’s breathing steadied and her heartbeat slowed, she gradually realized that she was enveloped in Lena’s arms. She felt the soothing touch of her fingers gently tracing patterns on her back, surprisingly soft and intimate. Miranda pressed away, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment as she stood upright. “I … I’m …”
Lena lifted her hand, pressing one finger against her lips to hush her. “Don’t do it. Don’t you dare doubt yourself in this moment.” Her gaze was warm, a reassuring smile on her lips as she allowed her fingertips to trail over her cheek. Miranda just nodded, feeling slightly more at ease, yet still unsure what to say.
“What do you want now, Little Girl?” Lena’s rasped, her body pressing Miranda’s into the door, her hand casually brushing a loose strand of hair from her eyes. Miranda could see the other woman studying her closely, her eyes flicking hungrily over her features until they settled on her in a smoldering stare. At that moment, she knew how to play this game.
Miranda straightened slightly, allowing her breasts to graze against Lena’s before her, a confident smirk spread across her lips. “Why don’t you take me in your room and I’ll show you.” She gave Lena a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling mischievously in the early morning light.
“Well then …” Lena chuckled softly, shifting her weight to grip the doorknob behind Miranda, her hand grazing the curve of her silk-clad ass as she reached past her. “After you. Seems like we’ll make a woman out of you yet.” And then they slipped into the dark haven of Lena’s room, where they remained until the moonlight faded and the sun was high in the sky.
END