BeautyandtheButch by Paisley Smith Read Free Book Online

picking
at pastries.
    Chelsea sat in a chair near the judges’ table, her feet
crossed at the ankles, her light-brown hair perfectly coiffed and spilling over
the shoulders of her pale-green suit. A diamond cross gleamed against the ivory
skin just below the center of her collarbone. An American flag pin adorned her
lapel.
    Ella didn’t appear to be intimidated by her competition. She
turned it on at once. Her posture straightened. Her smile bloomed.
Replacing the girl in the tank top and jeans who’d danced so unabashedly the
night before in a lesbian bar was the poised and polished beauty queen.
    Lindsey untangled the wires for the clip-on mics as Ella
walked forward and greeted the judges.
    Marquita burst in with an affable smile. She strode
purposefully to the judges’ table and pumped their hands in greeting. Lindsey
had instantly liked Marquita’s sincerity and could see why she was a contender
for the title.
    “Shall we get started?” one of the female judges asked as
she poured her glass full of water. “Is the camera crew ready?”
    Brandishing a mic, Lindsey stepped forward. “Who’s first?”
    “Chelsea?” the judge asked. “Would you like to start?”
    “Yes ma’am.” Chelsea stood and turned to Lindsey.
    Lindsey avoided meeting the contestant’s eyes as she clipped
the mic on her.
    “That’s going to leave a wrinkle,” Chelsea complained,
picking at the mic clip.
    “Feel free to move it,” Lindsey told her as she tugged the
hem of Chelsea’s jacket back down over the transmitter.
    Lindsey stepped behind the camera and looked through the
eyepiece. “Say a few words and let me get a read on the sound.”
    “Testing, testing,” Chelsea said and flashed a smile at the
judges. “My childhood dream was to be the next Barbara Walters.”
    Lindsey resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She flicked her
gaze at Maurice. “How’s the sound?”
    He gave a nod and then carried the boom over to the judges’
table.
    Marquita and Ella took seats as Chelsea began her interview.
    The questions and answers were all predictable. Boring.
Chelsea’s answers revealed very little about her personality.
    Marquita was interviewed next. She cut up with the judges,
laughed, joked and had them all smiling by the time the question-and-answer session
ended.
    Lindsey’s hands trembled as she clipped the mic on Ella to
prepare her for shooting. All Lindsey could think about was getting the
gorgeous blonde naked again. Heat radiated through her silk blouse. That
intoxicating perfume made Lindsey want to nuzzle the curve of Ella’s slender
neck.
    Their gazes connected and held as Lindsey clipped the mic in
front, purposefully letting the backs of her knuckles brush against the curve
of Ella’s breast.
    Ella’s cheeks pinked. When she wet her glossy lips with the
tip of her tongue, Lindsey’s clit pulsed. Those oh so feminine lips had been on
her pussy last night. And would be again tonight. Her stomach tightened in
anticipation.
    “There. All set,” Lindsey said as she adjusted Ella’s lapels
to perfection.
    The corners of Ella’s lips twitched as she tried not to
grin.
    Lindsey was so focused on their recent encounter she didn’t
hear the first few questions. But when Ella cleared her throat, Lindsey saw the
discomfort in her lover’s eyes.
    “Would you mind repeating the question?” Ella asked.
    One of the male judges leaned forward. “In 1996, Congress
passed the Defense of Marriage Act which states that the word ‘marriage’
constitutes a union between a man and woman. Yet, the current administration
has refused to defend the law. Should the president be required to uphold the
law that’s in place or should the office be allowed to disregard laws with
which the president’s administration disagrees?”
    Ella uncrossed and recrossed her legs. She twisted her ring.
    Lindsey held her breath. Answer the question, baby. Tell
’em what they want to hear.
    “Sections of the act have been found