Her Pretend Christmas Date: A Lesbian Christmas Romance

All five of them stole what little breath she still had left.

Holy. Freaking. Rainbows. And. Unicorns.

The shots weren’t just good. They were incredible. Far beyond what Laney had expected. Some of them were even better than anything she could do. Well, maybe not better, but different. A unique perspective amongst the professionals she worked with. Unicornspooprainbowsandsprinkles498 definitely had a way of seeing things that wasn’t like anyone else.

Laney thought about what the woman would be like to photograph, or more on point, how she wanted to photograph her, but now she thought that she wouldn’t mind being the one photographed. And Laney hated being the subject. She loved being the one behind the lens but was typically shy about being in front of it.

Laney didn’t have to even think about her response. It came to her automatically.

These are surprisingly good. You have a deal. I’ll arrange for someone to call you first thing tomorrow and I’ll send you a few other contacts within the hour. If you’re serious about this, I need to pick you up at one on Saturday. I’ll be wearing black, because I don’t care that it’s a wedding, not a funeral, but you can wear whatever you want. We don’t need to match.

Almost as an afterthought, Laney decided to try and end the message on a less demanding, happier, more considerate note. Thank you for doing this.

She clicked send.

A minute later, a response came in with nothing but an address typed out.

Chapter 7

Morgun

Now that things were rolling, Morgun was more than a little intimidated by the thought of having to follow through and uphold her end of the deal. She’d received a call from someone who worked at the very agency she’d applied with two years ago, promising to look at her portfolio if she brought it in. They’d set up a date for next Wednesday. She received a list of other contacts, which, Laney claimed, was the best she could do on short notice. Since she had an interview of sorts, Morgun considered it close enough to fulfilling her terms.

She’d been unable to sleep the night before and had finally crawled out of bed at just after five in the morning. She’d spent the time editing photos from a family photoshoot she’d had the day before, making herself a huge breakfast that she didn’t even eat, and eventually getting ready.

She was slightly ashamed to admit that she’d literally typed best forms of revenge into an internet search bar. The lists were less than helpful, but she did come across one tip she really liked. The best form of vengeance was to show the other person how well you were doing. That was usually for an ex, but whatever.

Morgun took the advice to heart and spent hours curling her hair into immaculate ringlets, applying a full face of makeup that was done so tactfully a real makeup artist could have done it, and picking out a dress that showed off her body. She might not be as tall or model looking as Laney Sterling, but she did run three times a week for an hour every morning, and she did yoga in her apartment every single day for over an hour as a way to de-stress and help out her muscles, which were often cramped from sitting and editing photos for hours at a time.

She’d picked a long black maxi dress. It totally wasn’t something she’d wear to anyone else’s wedding. The dress was both flowy and somehow clung to her curves. It was just a plain cotton/poly mix that, when paired with a sparkly clutch, dangly earrings, and her hair and makeup, looked almost nice enough to wear to a much more formal function. She’d done something wicked and decided not to wear panties, since even her thong strap could be seen from the outside of the dress. The thing was floor length so she figured there could be no wardrobe malfunction, so why not go commando?

Laney said she was wearing black. Sh

e said they didn’t have to match, so of course Morgun took it upon herself to also wear black. Just because she thought it would annoy Laney.

As she stood in front of the cheap full-length mirror that she’d taped to the back of her tiny walk in closet, Morgun had to admit she looked good. Really good. She’d knock her own socks off, if she was wearing socks. Which she wasn’t. She decided to give herself a small break and had gone with a set of black flip flops with sparkly straps. They could hardly be seen from beneath the pool of fabric anyway.

When her buzzer went off, Morgun jumped, then stared at herself in the mirror and giggled. She hadn’t given Laney her number to text her. Just the buzzer number. She knew that would probably piss her off too. Having to touch the grimy buzzer. Just having to pick her up from a neighborhood that wasn’t trendy or up and coming probably made Laney’s hair stand on end.

Good. All the things that Morgun could do to stick little pins into Laney, she was going to do. She might have forgiven her for getting the job she wanted if she had turned out to be a nice person when they’d met at the coffee shop, but nope. She wasn’t nice. She was the exact opposite of nice. Raging biotch came to mind, but even that seemed too good to describe her.

Morgun took her time getting to the buzzer. She didn’t press the door open, but just spoke into the speaker, promising to be right down. After which she spent a good five minutes gathering up the clutch she’d already packed with her phone, ID, her credit card, a small amount of cash, and her apartment key.

When she finally made it downstairs and out the front door, Morgun took an even greater amount of satisfaction in Laney’s red cheeks and tense posture. Laney turned at hearing the door, and Morgun watched her annoyance fade and something else flash across her face. Morgun did know what it was to be checked out. Laney did it, blatantly and appreciatively. She made no secret of looking her up and down, from her feet back up to her face. Now the flush coloring her cheeks was something different entirely.

Holy shit, she’s actually attracted to me!

Laney was a photographer with a photographer’s eye. She was probably just looking her over, assessing whether she’d be alright to photograph, what light to use, how to position her, Morgun reasoned with herself. Assessment. Not attraction. But for some reason, Laney’s dark eyes looked even darker. And wider.

Morgun refused to return the favor. She did note that Laney wore a tight black dress that capped her shoulders and fell to her knees. Laney was tall and slender, with rather large boobs and a nice butt for her sleek frame. It made Morgun slightly jealous. Did Laney Sterling have to have the whole package? She was effortlessly beautiful. She’d straightened her sleek black hair and gone for just about no makeup except for scarlet lipstick. She’d paired her dress with sky high pumps that Morgun knew she wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of staying upright in. In short, Laney looked like a freaking model, which only annoyed Morgun because she’d thought so before and she hated to notice.

She hated that twinge in her stomach and her chest which told her that she was, despite herself, attracted. Whatever. She’s beautiful. I can say that with confidence, because beautiful people are usually assholes. That’s just a fact. Everyone knows it. I can notice that she’s pretty. That her body is killer. I can assess her too. I’m also a photographer, whether I make the big bucks like she does, photographing models and expensive buildings or not.

Laney was able to compose herself remarkably quickly. Probably because in her line of work, she was used to wiping all traces of irritation out of her face and voice and being a professional.

“Ready?”

“Obviously,” Morgun snapped. “Or should I have brought something? A gift?”