Selena Kitt - Crazy About the Baumgartners

“My God, Gretchen, you have the most beautiful skin.” Mrs. B swabbed my cheeks with a fat bristled brush.

“Thanks. I’m so pale though.” I met her eyes, beautiful and bright, rimmed with mascara and eyeliner. Her dress was just as low-cut as my own, her tanned cleavage pushed up in the wonder of a Miracle Bra, not that she needed one. But it certainly made her breasts stand out, tantalizing mountains of flesh. A silver pendant necklace hung between them, drawing even more attention there, hanging loosely as she leaned forward to put the finishing touches on my makeup.

“You’re like peaches and cream.” Mrs. B ran a finger under my eye, cleaning up a smudge, her gaze moving lower to my own not inconsiderable, although far more pale, cleavage. “Delicious.”

I met her eyes for a moment, feeling a hot, tight clench in my belly, my gaze dropping down to the floor. Not that there wasn’t anything to look at there. Her heels were four inches high, her legs long, so tanned she didn’t have need of pantyhose. The hem of her red dress barely came to mid-thigh. We’d gone a little wild with the dress buying, I thought. They were probably a little too short, too low-cut. But I had to admit, the dress had the desired effect. I felt incredibly sexy in it.

“I should get a tan,” I mused, unable to help looking at her long, tawny legs. “Do you go to a salon?”

I knew she must, because she didn’t have any tan lines-although I wasn’t supposed to know that, and didn’t say so.

“During the winter I do.” Mrs. B smiled, standing back to admire her handiwork. “But in the summer, I try to spend as much time as I can in the backyard. You should come lay out with me this week. Get some color.”

“I will.” I nodded in agreement.

“And you’ll have a chance to soak up the sun when we go to Key West over Christmas.”

I smiled at that. I used to go with the Holmes’ on vacation all the time. Key West was one of their regular vacation spots. That’s where we’d run into the Baumgartners in the first place.

“There’s something about the Florida sun that turns your skin such a gorgeous golden brown.” Mrs. B tilted my chin up, looking at my makeup, admiring her handiwork. “I remember when we took Ronnie. She got as brown as a little seal.”

She realized her error, stopping and looking at me.

“I’m sorry, Gretch…”

“It’s okay. I was there, remember?” I reminded her. “She’s a brunette, though. I don’t tan quite as easily. I’m just so fair.”

“It’s that white-blonde hair.” She smiled, running her fingers through my hair, sending goose flesh down my arms. “I’m blonde, but you’re- really blonde.”

She ran a finger over my bare shoulder. The dress was sleeveless.

“Are you blonde all over?” she wondered aloud, her gaze following the path of her finger slowly down my arm.

“Yes, but…” I hesitated, not sure how much I wanted to share.

“But?” She smirked, meeting my eyes.

“Well.” I shrugged. “I’m shaved.”

“Completely?”

“Yeah.” I nodded.

“What a shame.” She tsked at that idea. “You should leave a little bit of that blonde. That would be sexy.”

I smiled. “Maybe I will.”

“So what do you think?” Mrs. B put her arm around my shoulder, turning so we both faced the mirror. “Will Doc fall out of his chair when we walk downstairs?”

“His eyes are going to pop out of his head,” I assured her. “You look so beautiful.”

She did. That red dress, those red nails and lips. She was stunning.

“So do you.” Mrs. B fingered the ends of my hair, falling like corn silk against my shoulders. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you found someone to bring home tonight.”

“Mrs. B!” I raised my eyebrows, surprised.

“We wouldn’t object.” She squeezed my shoulder, dropping a wink. “You just have to be discreet.”

“Of course!” I shook my head. “I wouldn’t do anything like that. I mean, especially if the kids were home.”

“But they’re not,” she reminded me. “Come on, let’s go shock my husband.”

Something happened when I walked down those stairs. Doc was in the kitchen sitting at the table flipping through a magazine and he glanced up when he saw Carrie appear at the bottom of the stairs. I was right behind her and I saw his eyes widen, a smile starting at the corners of his mouth. Then I came up beside her as we approached, and his gaze shifted to me. His eyebrows went up and his jaw dropped and he literally gasped out loud.

“What do you think?” Carrie prompted, smirking. “Will we do?”

“Oh you’ll most definitely do.” Doc stood, still looking at me with that hungry gaze.

He was quite a handsome man, strong jaw and gorgeous dark eyes. And I knew he had an incredible body. There was a gym at the hospital where he had privileges and Mrs. B said he worked out there. Even if I hadn’t seen him naked, I could see he was fit. He was dressed for clubbing, just a tight white t-shirt, an unbuttoned navy dress shirt over that, and jeans. Since I’d been living with them, I’d seen him dressed more casually, but somehow tonight it was different.

“How did I get so lucky, getting not just one but two gorgeous women on my arm?” He offered one to Mrs. B and another one to me.

Mrs. B didn’t seem to mind the way Doc admired my too low-cut, too-short dress. In fact, she commented on it.

“Isn’t she something?” Mrs. B asked as we got into the car, her in the passenger seat, me in the back. “She’s going to get all the boys tonight. And all the girls.”

“Oh I don’t know about that.” I laughed.

“It feels so good to be kidless for a little while.” She sighed happily, leaning back in her seat and turning on the radio.

“Enjoy it,” Doc said. “Because we’re going to be up nights pretty soon.”

“I know.” She smiled over at him, sliding a hand over his leg. “We’ve done it before, we can do it again.”

“How are you feeling about the whole baby thing, Gretchen?” Doc asked, meeting my eyes in the rear view mirror as he stopped at a light.

“Who doesn’t love babies?” I asked.

The club was dark and they’d decided to do an eighties night for their opening, so we walked in to Hungry Like a Wolf by Duran Duran. Doc walked us to a table and then went to the bar to place an order for drinks. I sat back, looking around, taking it all in. They made it ladies night, so Mrs. B and I had gotten in for free. As an advertising ploy, it had worked. The place was packed.

“Want to dance?” Mrs. B leaned in to talk to me, but she still had to yell. She nodded toward the dance floor, already loaded with writhing bodies.

“Let’s wait for Doc!” I yelled back. I needed some liquid courage before I got up to dance in this dress.

Thankfully he returned loaded down with drinks, sliding into the booth next to Mrs. B. There were booths lining one wall, tables against the other. The rest was a dance floor, with the DJ up high in a balcony section. High overhead was an old fashioned disco ball they had turning with multi-colored lights flashing. It was like old-school clubbing night.

I downed my mojito, feeling the alcohol burn my throat and heat my chest.

“Come on, baby, let’s dance!” Mrs. B grabbed Doc’s hand, nudging him out of the booth with her hip, her dress riding high up on her thighs. She glanced back at me, holding out her other hand. “You too!”

So it was the three of us on the dance floor together, mashed up with all of the rest of the sweaty bodies, Bon Jovi’s Living on a Prayer thrumming through my whole body. I watched them dance together, their eyes meeting, so much heat between them I almost had to look away. There were a hundred people around us and yet the moment was intimate, between the two of them.