Chapter 23: Taking Her Breath Away

"She seemed such a sweet girl," Anna said, sipping her tea.

"Oh, she is," Angique agreed. "She is sweet as candy for you and me, and for any woman who asks her to crawl between their legs and eat them." Anna smiled.

"You sound bitter." Angique looked up and shrugged.

"I guess that's because I am," she said.

She felt the mild irony in Anna's voice and saw the mocking spark in her friendly gaze. The woman had a lean body and a dark complexion. Angique knew she was an outdoors aficionado, but her eyes were the eyes of a businesswoman. They were always taxing, estimating, maybe judging? She'd told Angique how she hated stuffy meetings. She preferred riding out on one of her horses into the crisp dawn of the desert, alone. But her eyes belied that. They had the many facets of a keen watcher — an observer of the human nature.

Anna had phoned her and invited her back after the poolside meeting they'd had with Alicia. She sounded disappointed to hear that the girl would not be there this time. And she was sad about the reason why.

"The two of you were ... amazing," she'd said over the phone, pausing to find the right expression. "It felt like an honor to be part of what you had. There was so much sexual energy, so much easy trust."

"Yes," Angique had answered. "Rather a bit too much trust, I gather."

Today Anna wore black denim jeans. They were tightly wrapped around her slim hips and legs. Her blouse of gauzy white cotton however was wide-sleeved and loose fitting. Undone buttons exposed a deeply bronzed V — Angique saw no signs of a bra holding the small breasts. A necklace of silver and turquoise betrayed her native heritage, as did her straight black hair and deep dark eyes. At her feet were heavily heeled Spanish riding boots.

She'd taken Angique out to a shaded patio to protect her pale skin from the glaring desert sun. Angique thanked her for remembering, but Anna smiled and answered:

"Of course I remembered. How could I forget even the smallest detail of that delightful afternoon?"

They shared a lingering silence, looking out over the reddish desert, sipping tea. Then Anna rose and walked to the huge bougainvillea that spread its limbs all over the sand-colored wall, exploding in clouds of salmon blossom. Angique's eyes followed the movement of her ass-cheeks until they came to a halt. Anna rose to the tips of her boots, picking wilted flowers from the bush. She crunched their dried, crispy petals in the palm of her hand.

Angique watched her every move, wondering who this woman really might be, living behind her proud Amazon/business façade — maintaining this perfect wife-and- mother's charade. Last time and today again she had watched Anna's secret looks and unguarded responses. There was a dark side to this woman — maybe even more than just that...

"So she cheated on you?" Anna asked, not looking back. The question shook Angique out of her musings. Its frankness also annoyed her more than she allowed her face to show.

"Let's not talk about her," she said, looking away. Then she also rose and moved to the other end of the patio, hugging her teacup. "Let's talk about you." Her eyes were fixed on the milky-blue sky, where a lonesome predator circled on unmoving wings — a hawk maybe, or a vulture?

The sound of heels told her that Anna was getting closer. Angique's nostrils flared, as she picked up the woman's scent. She didn't look back, nor did she change the casual tone of her voice, but her mental fingers were crossing.

"Please undo the buttons of your blouse," she said. "I need to see your tits."

The slight gasp caused her to relax. It also made her smile into her teacup. She counted to ten, then turned around in time to see Anna slide the soft cotton off her shoulders, exposing a darkly tanned chest. She caught the woman's eyes and held them with hers. Without looking down, she reached for the left, exposed breast.

"Such long and excited nipples," she whispered, denting the tip with a fingernail. She stepped in, feeling the heat Anna exuded. Her hand went up and started tracing the breast's curve from the delicate collarbone to the dark nipple. She hardly touched the skin.

"Such a sweet gentle slope; such nice swollen areolas," she said, lowering her gaze and palming the flesh. She cupped the flesh as if weighing it. "Do I feel your heartbeat, Anna?" Their faces were very close now, Angique's breath caressing Anna's skin. She answered her own question and smiled.

"Yes, I do. How amazing. And how fast." She looked up again, but Anna had closed her eyes — a blush darkening her face. Angique smiled, leaning in to find the woman's mouth with hers. The lips yielded instantly and they kissed — an open-mouthed kiss that lasted for minutes. Angique pulled Anna's topless body into hers and only let go of the mouth when they both needed air.

"Oh God," Anna gasped.

"Oh God," Angique agreed.

"Tell me about Anna," Angique said after their breathing had slowed down to normal. Her right hand still fondled the woman's breast, making the nipple slip and slide through her fingers. Her other hand disappeared under the long black hair, her fingertips massaging the skull. Anna's eyes sparkled. She looked up to the taller woman, but then her awe melted away and an ironic smile curled her lips.

"What's to say about Anna?" she asked, shrugging. "I am just a boring hausfrau, a mother and an overworked Human Resources manager at a shipping company. I fight for my share of respect in a macho men's world." Angique shook her head, frowning.

"No," she said, breathing the word. "No. Tell me about Anna." She held the woman's eyes until Anna's lashes fluttered and her throat jumped, swallowing.

"Uhm, well ... Anna," she tried. "Anna is a native American woman, married to a sweet guy of German stock. She loves him gently and has so for over twenty years, carrying his children — dutifully opening her legs for him."

Angique pulled her hand back and smacked the woman hard across the face, making her head snap. She ignored the surprised yelp as she calmly restated her question.

"I asked you to tell me about Anna."

Anna looked stunned. Tears popped from her eyes; it must have been the shock more than the pain. She had never been treated like this; the solid earth shook under her feet. A dark spot bloomed on her cheek where Angique had struck her. There was no anger, though, no indignation — just shock. The breathless silence following the cracking slap was filled with distant sounds of birds and crickets — and finally with Anna's gasps. She just stood, allowing tears to streak her cheeks; she did not protest, she did not run. A sense of relief washed through Angique — she had been right about Anna.

"You know me, Angique," Anna whispered at last. "Do I have to tell? You see through me and you know who I really am." Tears now ran freely down her face.

"Say it, Anna," Angique said, touching the bruise. "You know you have to say it." Anna swallowed twice.

"I am Songbird too," she said, and her face grew younger. "I am this very young Indian girl that lives with the ghosts of the earth, the spirits of the heavens. But I guess that wouldn't be the Anna you look for?" Angique slowly shook her head.

"Too many Anna's," she murmured. "Now tell me, who is the true Anna? Not the workaholic Anna, not the cowgirl Anna riding out into the sunrise, not the wife or the mother, surely. Not even the bird girl singing of her ancestors."

She reached for Anna's throat, feeling its pulse throb against her palm as she slowly closed her hand around it. Her gaze pinned down the shifting black eyes, cutting off every possible route of escape. The ribbed windpipe massaged her palm as the woman swallowed. Angique just squeezed harder.

"Tell me of your darkness, Anna," she whispered. "Tell me all the sweet and dirty secrets you harbor." Her hand closed tighter and she had to hold up the gasping woman as her half naked body turned limp. The dark irises floated up into the skull, leaving two white, vacant orbs staring out. The mouth worked, the throat gurgled. Then Angique let Anna sink to the ground, protecting her head from hitting the stone.

She knelt next to her, caressing the paled cheeks until a sudden convulsion wrecked the body. Anna lifted her head, gasping for air. She coughed and milled her arms around as she got up to sit, dry heaving and gagging. Angique wrapped an arm around her, nudging Anna's face with hers.

"Welcome back, Anna," she whispered. "Dark, sweet Anna girl." The woman looked back at her, wide-eyed and panicked — not a trace of the woman-of-the-world to be found. Her shoulders started shaking and she cried out. She pushed her face into Angique's chest, sobbing muffled sobs that drenched the flimsy fabric of the sundress.

Her face was ruined when she looked up at last, trying to talk through hysterical heaves.

"Sssssh," Angique said, stroking her hair. "Shhhh, honey, later." She rocked Anna in her embrace, kissing the salty tears off her face.

It took Anna long minutes to calm down enough for talking.

"How ... how did you know?" she asked haltingly.

"Know what, honey?" Angique answered, smiling.

"That I love to be strangled — to have my breath cut off? That I get off on that? Who told you? Nobody knows. Nobody but a woman I was with last year? We stumbled on it by accident. How could you know?"