Page 35 of When Ice Queens Collide
Simone's skirt was hiked up, then discarded, and her panties were yanked down. Alexandra's hands were on her, groping and palming her breasts, pinching her nipples until Simone hissed into her mouth. Simone caught her wrists, pinning them to the desk above her head with one hand. She started to slide the other between her own legs, but she stopped. She released one of Alexandra’s wrists, guiding her hand down instead.
“Touch me. Here,“ Simone said, the words rough.
Alexandra's fingers found her clit immediately, circling with focused intent and pressure, deliberate as always, even now. Simone ground her hips down, chasing the friction, her free hand wrapped lightly at Alexandra's throat, enough to feel the swallow under her palm. Alexandra's eyes fluttered, but she didn't falter. Her fingers slipped lower, plunging inside Simone with a twist that made her knees buckle.
Their bodies were flush against each other, and the desk creaked under their weight. Simone's hand left Alexandra's throat to grope her breast again, squeezing roughly, while Alexandra's fingers thrust in and out, her thumb pressing against her clit. The heat built fast, and Simone's anger was channeled into every roll of her hips, every bite she left on Alexandra's shoulder, as she drove to reclaim what the afternoon had stolen from her.
Simone came with a shudder, burying her face in Alexandra's neck, biting down to muffle the sound. Waves of pleasure crashed through her, leaving her trembling, but the emptiness within lingered. The orgasm didn't fix her; she was still restless and hollow. Alexandra's fingers slowed, drawing out the aftershocks, her other hand stroking Simone's back in slow, soothing lines.
They shifted, and Simone pushed Alexandra flat against the desk again, straddling her thigh and grinding down with her leg as her mouth trailed lower. She sucked a nipple into her mouth, her teeth grazing the hardened, pink peak, while her hand slipped between Alexandra's legs once more. Her fingers slid in easily, still slick from before, and Alexandra's hips lifted, meeting each thrust.
The rhythm built slowly this time, less frantic. Simone's free hand grabbed Alexandra's, interlacing their fingers and pinning her again. She watched her face, the way her lips parted and eyes squeezed shut as her pleasure mounted. Biting at her collarbone, Simone curled her fingers inside, her thumb rubbing circles over her clit. Alexandra's breaths quickened, her body tensing, and when she came again, it was quieter but no less powerful, a full-body shiver that rippled through both of them.
But Simone didn't stop there. She slid down, her mouth replacing her hand as her tongue darted out, lapping up the fresh release. Alexandra's hands fisted in her hair, guidingwithout force as her thighs clamped around Simone's head. The taste was overwhelming, pushing Simone's own arousal back to a simmer. She ate her out thoroughly, alternating between broad licks with the flat of her tongue and feather-light flicks with the tip of her tongue and hard sucks with her lips. Simone’s fingers teased at the entrance of her pussy before slipping in again. Alexandra writhed, silent except for the occasional hitch of breath that caught in her throat, her body arching off the desk.
When Alexandra’s orgasm crescendoed a third time, her legs shook and a low keen escaped her throat. Simone rose, leaving a trail of soft kisses on her way back up, their bodies slick with sweat. Alexandra's hands groped her ass, pulling her down, and they ground together, clits brushing in slick friction. It was messy and urgent. Simone's hand found its way to Alexandra's throat again, gripping with light pressure, while Alexandra's nails raked down her back in long strokes and she squeezed her waist. The build was mutual, their bodies sliding against each other in a heated fervor and breaths mingling in the scant space between them.
They came together—Simone first, then Alexandra—the shared release pulling a rare, broken, “Alexandra,“ from Simone's lips. The name hung there, and Simone felt exposed and vulnerable in a way that physical nakedness had never made her feel.
The intensity ebbed slowly, and there was no crash or scramble to get redressed. They lay tangled on the desk, limbs heavy, as the lamp's glow warmed their skin. Alexandra's hand rested on Simone's hip, her thumb tracing idle patterns. Simone didn't move to leave. She stayed, staring at the ceiling, the silence wrapping around them tighter than any words could. It wasn't bewilderment holding her there, not like before. This was quieter, a reluctant admission she couldn't name. Taking controland dominating Alexandra hadn't filled the void, but lying here, exposed in the aftermath, came closer than anything else had.
Alexandra shifted, pressing a kiss to Simone's shoulder, soft and unhurried. Simone turned her head, meeting her eyes in the dim light. There were no questions or explanations, just the weight of it all settling in the space between them.
For once, their rivalry felt like a thin veil over something that could be real and substantial, and neither pulled away.
17
Chapter 17: Alexandra
Ruth’s summary had arrived on New Year’s Day. Alexandra read it at the kitchen counter in her plush robe while her coffee went cold, then read it again. She set it face-down on the marble.
Simone’s team had filed it during the holiday week. Alexandra was operating with half her staff, the school board was out for the holiday season, and there was no city council in session—a window of opportunity that anyone with access to the municipal calendar could have found in twenty minutes. Simone’s challenge targeted the bond structure underwriting the renovation at Roosevelt Elementary. If it went through, the project would freeze for a year, possibly longer, while the courts worked through it.
Alexandra hadn’t called Ruth back that day. She had turned the summary over in her mind as she finished her lukewarm coffee at the counter, then went to the study and worked until two in the morning on something else entirely.
That had been ten days ago.
Diane Okafor had been the principal at Roosevelt Elementary for eleven years. She’d been there when the boiler failed the first February after Alexandra had taken over from Dorothy. The building went cold and the district said there was no budget to fix it, and Alexandra had called the city manager herself. When the renovation had kicked off that next spring, Diane had mentioned it in passing.Your mother called, too,she’d said.The second time she came, she brought donuts.
Alexandra hadn’t known about the donuts.
She thought about them on the drive to the school Thursday morning. The rain had been falling since the night before, the fine, persistent kind that made the city feel muffled and close. She drove without the radio on.
Diane was waiting in the main office with the stillness of someone who had already cried once that morning and had decided against a second time. She shook Alexandra’s hand and said, “Thank you for coming,“ then led her to the hallway.
Diane turned left at the first junction instead of right, and Alexandra followed her to a door near the end of the corridor.
It was a repurposed storage room. There was a shelf unit blocking most of a back wall, cardboard boxes stacked along one side readingcopy paper 8.5x11, and a single round wooden table that could seat four students. On the table, there were twelve picture books, a plastic basket of early readers, and a laminated checkout sheet with a dry erase marker resting on top of it. A hand-lettered sign in all caps hung above the door, saying:READING CORNER.
“This was a computer lab until the second year of my term,“ Diane said. “When the grant ran out, the district needed the space.“
She didn’t explain further, but she didn’t need to. Alexandra knew what had happened next. The computers were removed,the room was filled with whatever needed a home, evidently the library now, and no one had ever budgeted to put them back.
Alexandra looked down at the checkout sheet. Forty-three children had borrowed books from this room in the past two weeks. The names were written in small, careful handwriting. She stared at the sheet longer than she needed to.
They walked to the west wing together. The portable classrooms sat visible through the window at the end, two squat structures that were supposed to be temporary but had been there for fourteen years, their exteriors gone permanently gray as they were used long past their lifespans. Inside the main building, two classrooms had their thermostats taped over with a half-sheet of paper covering them that saidDO NOT ADJUST. One room had a space heater in the corner with an extension cord running to a power strip. Alexandra looked at the extension cord and kept walking.
“The parents are organizing and want to go to the press,“ Diane said as they turned toward the gymnasium, passing bulletin boards thick with students’ work: crayon drawings and handwritten reports on Pacific Northwest wildlife—a wolf, a sea otter, and an orca withBY DAPHNE K., 3RD GRADEwritten carefully underneath. “I told them to give me a week before anyone goes to theTribune. That was on Tuesday.“
