Caught

by Tessa Vidal

  “My knees,” Ronnie said. “They're jelly.”

  “Impossible to get up. Impossible to walk.”

  And yet, somehow, leaning into each other, we pushed ourselves to our feet. Our slick, sweaty bodies felt glued together. We couldn't seem to break contact. Arms twined around waists, hip to hip, we scudded to the bedroom.

  It was pristine, almost too pristine. The new sheets on the bed had never been ruffled. The fragrance from the fresh roses in the vase had never been inhaled.

  Our bodies, already primed and sweaty from multiple orgasms, seemed delightfully filthy. The finest taste, the finest scent, was our own shared musk.

  We slid into an easy sixty-nine. I wanted to savor her salty-sweet taste while she savored me. Her clit responded eagerly when I puckered my lips down tight to give it a long suck. My thigh muscles were fluttering with the desire to grip her face hard.

  How had we lived without this for twelve long years?

  “Never apart from you again.” The words were barely coherent because my breath was so ragged from passion.

  “Never again.” Her breath was ragged too. And yet I heard, clearly, every syllable.

  Epilogue

  A Year Later

  Ronnie

  Early spring. Not too hot, but already bright. A salt spray flew out behind our white boat where it powered through steel-colored water. Clary's face was painted with a mineral sunscreen that contained both zinc and titanium oxide. My nose was painted too. Everybody involved, including the captain of the charter, wore dark wraparound sunglasses to protect their eyes from sun and spray.

  The New Orleans premiere of Emeralds Are Forever would take place in the famous Saenger Theater tonight. It wouldn't do to be peeling from sunburn during a glittering red carpet event with hordes of photographers documenting our every move. Maybe a surprise two-hour sailing charter wasn't the smartest plan.

  The risk is worth it. She'll love it.

  Before we sailed, the captain wiped our sunglasses with defogger. We had great views of the lake and the wide sky above. By that time, the surprise wasn't much of a surprise. The highway signs advertising charter rides to see the famous pink dolphin pretty much gave the game away.

  Out on the water, the captain began the tourist spiel. “As you know, today we will be searching for Pinkie, the famous pink dolphin of Calcasieu Lake. We first spotted her as a young calf in the spring of 2007. She returned again as an adult in 2009, and then many times after that. The migratory habits of the bottlenose dolphin are poorly understood, but...”

  Clary scanned water and sky for any trace of pink. So did I.

  “The deep pink color is a very rare mutation in this species. Pinkie is unusual not just for her depth of color but for her natural curiosity and her eagerness to show herself to human admirers. Over the years, many people have had the pleasure of observing and even photographing Pinkie in her natural habitat. If you have a waterproof phone, you are invited to take pictures.”

  Clary didn't get out her phone, and neither did I. The pleasure was in the moment, in watching her lean expectantly over the rail like an excited kid. Her hat had flapped so much she'd already taken it off. The tail of her scarf whipped in the wind. Her tumble of red hair was still fighting its way out of its rainbow-colored ponytail holder.

  She adjusted her ponytail.

  The wind teased out the wild strands again.

  She was so beautiful.

  In a spot of lake that looked to me like any other spot of lake, the captain turned off the engine and allowed the boat to glide to a stop. A long string of heavy birds flew overhead low enough that I could hear their wings. White pelicans.

  “They fly north for the summer.” The captain spoke softly now that he didn't have to talk over the engine. “They're going soon.”

  Clary leaned over the rail again. Her dark glasses couldn't hide those searching eyes.

  And then she took hold of my arm with both hands. “Oh,” she said. “Oh.”

  The pink dolphin was coming. The boat was mainly used as a fishing charter, and no doubt she expected scraps. When she swam toward us, her small family swam with her, keeping her at the center.

  Keeping her protected.

  As the pod came closer, I could see the pink dolphin's red eyes, which she held squinted against the bright light of the sun.

  And I could see something else.

  The perfect pink calf dancing at her side.

  The pink dolphin was the first of a new breed.

  Still watching the pod, I registered the sound of footsteps climbing a metal ladder from belowdecks. This was supposed to be a private charter. Me, Clary, and the captain.

  This better not be one of the captain's good buddies. We didn't need anyone intruding on this moment for no better reason than to nab a fucking selfie with a movie star.

  Clary turned, still smiling. If anything, the smile was getting bigger.

  Hell, it wasn't even just a smile.

  She was laughing, literally laughing, from pure joy.

  I turned to face the stranger who could make my Clary laugh like that. Thanks to the bright sun on the bright water, I saw nothing but a silhouette until the details had time to emerge from the shadows.

  The intruder was older but still lean and fit. He wore an Hermès scarf at his neck European-style to protect him from the sun. His dark glasses were Costa Del Mar Saltbreak.

  This wasn't some Louisiana bayou man. This wasn't some friend of the captain dying to meet Clarissa Stanton.

  This was a miracle more impossible than a pink dolphin with her pink baby.

  Johannes hugged me tight, a long-lost father's embrace. “I'm so proud of you, Ronnie. I lost myself for a long time, but I'm so damn proud of you. Look at you. All grown up. An FBI super agent.”

  “A special agent.” I couldn't help but laugh with happiness.

  “I like that,” Clary said. “A super agent.”

  “How is this possible?” I asked.

  “I guess you're not as sneaky as you think you are.” She was grinning from ear to ear. “I overheard one of your phone calls with the good captain here, enough to figure out what you had planned. And it seemed like the perfect time to spring my own surprise.”

  “You found Johannes.”

  “I paid for my investigators to find him, yeah. And the captain was good enough to sneak him onboard before we arrived for the tour.”

  “That's amazing. You're amazing. Both of you.”

  “I'm sorry I let so much distance come between us,” he said. “I thought... I am a broken-down old man. No good to anybody.”

  That sounded like clinical depression, and I looked sharply into the eyes behind those dark glasses.

  “I am better now,” he said. “I realized I needed help.”

  “I missed you so much. You have no idea.”

  “I missed you too, my girl. So, so much.”

  “Look,” Clary said. “The captain is feeding the dolphins.”

  “You can too, cher. Just hold up a piece of fish like this.”

  JOHANNES RODE WITH us to New Orleans. Clary had arranged for him to get a ticket to the premiere too. The long drive gave us time to catch up, and we couldn't seem to stop talking.

  He'd recently opened an expensive jewelry store in Zurich. I was now an FBI agent working out of headquarters in DC. A famous agent on the rise who consulted for big-budget movies in between solving high-profile crimes. The tabloids made a fuss about my status as the girlfriend of movie star Clarissa Stanton.

  So, yeah, we had a lot to talk about.

  A sailing expedition wasn't a Tibetan Mastiff's favorite thing. While we were out in search of the rare pink dolphin, Yukon had been pampered in the five-star hotel's infamous doggie day spa. Having been brushed, shampooed, and fussed over to within an inch of his life, he was ready for his walk on the red carpet. Claus Keller, or at least Keller's assistant, had been savvy enough to send Clarissa Stanton's Tibetan Mastiff his own personal invitati
on to the premiere.

  He offered a paw, and Johannes gave him a polite shake. “Very pleased to meet you, Yukon,” he said. “And now I think I too must avail myself of the spa to make ready for the big event.”

  “I need to wash off all this sunscreen goop,” Clary said.

  The sparkle in her eyes when she glanced at me suggested she had an ulterior motive in getting me alone and in the shower.

  Our hotel suite was exquisite. As always. Movie stars and their guests learn to expect beautiful fruit baskets, plenty of fresh flowers, and, of course, the mandatory bottle of champagne chilling in its silver bucket.

  Clary bounced on the nearest king-sized mattress. “That was magical today. Did you know about the little one?”

  “I didn't know for sure. There were rumors, but nothing's guaranteed. Even Pinkie herself doesn't return every year.”

  “‘The migratory habits of the bottlenose dolphin are poorly understood by science.’” She did a credible job of mimicking our captain's voice. “He knew. He'd seen her.”

  “He was playing to our sense of drama. He wanted to surprise us.”

  “Everybody was playing to everybody's sense of drama today.”

  Especially Clary. What she'd done was so damn big― finding Johannes, bringing him home. “I love you so much. My heart feels like it's breaking just because it's filled to the overflow point with all the love I feel for you.”

  “I know, Ronnie.” She leaned up to kiss me. “I love you too. You're so magical. A pink dolphin. I can't get over it. Even though I found out in advance, it didn't spoil the surprise. Nothing could spoil it. Some things are just magic all the way.”

  “You most of all.” I touched the shell of her ear where I spotted a dab of white. The fading traces of the mineral sunscreen. “Shower first. Sunscreen isn't tasty, and I intend to kiss that pretty face of yours all over.”

  “Mmmm.”

  The hotel provided tangerine-scented products in a big crystal shower with multiple showerheads mounted at your choice of levels. We couldn't resist fire-fighting each other with the adjustable sprays. Which meant we were slick and laughing and barely capable of drying each other off before we flung ourselves loose-limbed and naked on the bed again.

  “Wrap those legs around my ears,” I said.

  “Mmm, bossy.” But she obeyed.

  I tickled my tongue in all the perfect places. Already excited, she didn't take long to ripple into climax. “Now you.” Sprawling on her back, pulling me down on top of her, those long greedy hands placed me exactly where she wanted me. She snuffled with her nose and prodded with her chin. But it was her lips and tongue that performed the best magic.

  “We're going to be late,” she said.

  “We still have a little time.” I sat up on my elbow.

  “Someone's supposed to be coming in to do my hair and makeup.”

  I fluffed out her red curls. “I canceled the hair stylist.”

  “What.”

  “Bedhead looks good on you.”

  “You better be teasing.” Her green eyes squinted. “Back in the day, I never thought of you as the kind of woman who'd get off on teasing.”

  “We had the wrong idea about each other for a very long time.”

  “Well. I think I have the right idea now. Ronnie, do you ever think...?” A deep breath. “I know you were caught up in a bad thing for a long time, but do you ever think...?”

  “That I would want to be caught up in a good thing?” I too took a deep breath. “I do think so, Clary. I think so all the time.”

  “I love you so much, but it seemed important not to rush. After all the stuff with...” She didn't want to say Bailey's name.

  And neither did I. “Clarissa, Clarissa, Clarissa, I love you too. And, yes, I guess it did seem important not to rush, but I don't really remember why.”

  “Will you...?”

  “Do you want to...?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I want to.”

  “Me too.”

  “The hotel already knows about a place. A justice of the peace.” She turned pink. “If you want to move that fast.”

  “Of course I want to. I'm tired of going slow.”

  “We can slip out of the premiere once it's about fifteen minutes in. And Johannes already said he'd be happy to take care of Yukon. He loves dogs. I bet you didn't know that about him before.”

  “Yes, Clary Stanton. I said yes. I will sneak away from your big-deal movie premiere and marry you at the nearest justice of the peace. A fluffy Tibetan Mastiff and an old-school European jeweler are more than welcome to be our witnesses.”

  “And Taylor wants to come. He'll probably be giving lots of interview about it.”

  “As long as I don't have to give any interviews, he's more than welcome to tag along.”

  “Oh, he won't blab for several hours. By then, we'll be in the air on a private jet to the honeymoon destination of your choice.”

  No one had ever made me feel this special. How was this my life? “I honestly don't have the words.”

  “Sometimes I think I must be dreaming,” Clary said. “I never thought I'd get to here. Someone to love me, somebody who really believes in me.”

  “I feel the same way. And you know what? I think it's because we are dreaming. Both of us, we've found our way to our dream. The deepest dream, the one we'll dream together.”

  THANK YOU FOR READING Caught, the fourth lesbian romance in my Cherished Choices series. If you enjoyed this story, don't miss Choices, Book #1, where we meet the dogs of Happy Heaven Dog Rescue for the first time when Dickens, an aristocratic red chow, brings together a celebrity dog trainer and a rising movie star. The two women were once high school sweethearts, but their small town is a universe away from Hollywood. Will the gossip machine tear them apart for good?

  About the Author

  Tessa is a feel-young woman in her fifties who lives for romance. A church secretary by day, Tessa writes romantic tales of love at night about women defying boundaries and forging relationships that stand the test of time.