"What time are we supposed to be there?" I look at my watch.
"I think Anna said seven."
"Are you sure it was seven? I think she might have said seven-thirty."
"Gail." Julie looks in the mirror at me. "Why do you always question my answers? If you don't want to accept what I tell you then, for God's sake, don't ask me."
Well, yeah, Julie's right. She's always right. Why do I question her answers? Habit, I guess. But I do like the look on her face when she gets annoyed with me. Her eyes flash, her shoulders straighten and she becomes peacock-like in her stature. All that lovely Taurus stubbornness turns her into a fiery goddess commanding my respect and attention.
And she's got it, damn her; it's not even worth trying to reply. I walk towards her dressing table where she sits putting on her make-up. She's chosen a green satin shirt to wear to dinner, and it's one of my favorites. I love the way satin hangs on her, hugging her shoulders and gently falling over her firm, round breasts. I stand behind her and meet her eyes in the mirror. "This shirt makes your eyes look like emeralds," I tell her, wondering if I really want to go to this dinner party at all. I'd much rather stay home and admire Julie.
I stroke the back of her neck with my fingers and I can see the gooseflesh rise there as she gasps.
"That tickles!" She grins at me.
I bend over and press my lips to the very same spot and she sighs.
"Gail, what are you doing?"
I don't answer her with words. I pull the collar of her shirt back and move my lips to the newly exposed skin.
"Gail, don't. We have to leave soon."
"Let's not go." I whisper, running my lips up the side of her neck to her earlobe.
"Gail! Anna is expecting us." Julie pauses, make-up brush in hand.
"Let's stay home." I slide my hands under her arms and around to fondle her breasts, cupping them easily, one in each palm. She gasps lightly as I rub my thumbs over the place where I know her still-soft nipples lie beneath her bra and I try to coax more out of her, nipping gently at her ear.