Captain's Choice

by V. K. Powell

  “I’ve got a starting pla—” Bennett said, but stopped when she looked up at Kerstin. “Are you all right?”

  “Sure. Why?”

  “You’re flushed and your eyes are, I don’t know, sort of glazed over. Bored?”

  Bennett’s stare and the slight tilt of her head told Kerstin she had no chance of lying her way out of daydreaming. “Guess my mind wandered a bit. What were you saying?”

  “I’d rather know what you were thinking. It looked far more interesting than number crunching.”

  “Maybe another time.” And surprisingly, she meant it. She could hardly keep her hands off Bennett when they were so close, and Bennett was far too adept at reading women’s nonverbal cues. “About the costs?”

  Bennett pointed to one of the line items. “I think we can definitely cut the price of the locks. We don’t need the biometric type you’ve budgeted. A keypad entry system would work fine. It’s not Fort Knox.”

  “How about a card-swipe system? They’re more secure, and if someone loses a card, we deactivate it and issue another.”

  “Cops are notorious for losing things, and the cost of cards will add up over time.”

  Kerstin considered the idea, ran a few calculations, and nodded. “Okay. Keypad it is. Good. What else?”

  “Is there a less expensive option for the interior doors?”

  “We could replace the more expensive fiberglass interior doors with 24-gauge metal at the security points. It’s not quite as sturdy, but with cops on either side, if someone unauthorized is coming through, you guys can probably stop him.” She grinned at Bennett.

  “Can we leave the heavy metal exterior doors?”

  “Sure.” She made notes as they talked, pleased with their progress, and then studied her exterior plan again. “I can nix the fancy up-lighting for a simple spotlight focused on the name. And the letters don’t have to be quite so thick. They’ll stand out fine.” She scribbled more changes in red ink in the margins.

  “Did you include the cost differences between the canteen and the cafeteria on the original plans?”

  Kerstin shook her head. “Good catch. I’d forgotten about that.” She looked up again, and Bennett had taken her shoes off, propped her feet on the side of the bed, and had a smug grin on her face. “What?”

  “You obviously love what you do. It’s like I’m not even here.”

  The words washed over Kerstin, a wave of affirmation and acceptance. “Thank you. I think that’s the indication you’ve found your passion, getting lost in it for hours, oblivious to the world around you. I do love it.” She closed her notebook, rolled the drawings up, and placed them both in her bag. “Enough for tonight.”

  “Are we back on budget?”

  “Probably not, but we won’t be as far over. I’ll check the landscaping totals tomorrow and make a few adjustments, which will help even more. I’m pleased with what we’ve done. And now, I think you’ve earned the dinner I promised. Do you want to go back to the hotel restaurant, out to another place, or…”

  “I’m good with room service, if you are. I hate to admit it, but I’m a bit tired, and the less moving I have to do, the better.”

  “Room service it is.” They negotiated their order, and Kerstin called it in. “They said it might take a while. There’s a big conference here this week.”

  “I’m in no hurry, unless you want me to leave.”

  “Of course not. A promise is a promise.”

  Bennett’s long legs were still perched on the side of her bed, her hands wrapped around her sides as if protecting her injury. Dylan’s tight sweatshirt crept up her abdomen, exposing a small glimpse of flesh that teased Kerstin. She couldn’t look away. The memory of her hands roaming over Bennett’s skin, skimming below her waistband and lower, raised heat between her legs.

  “If you don’t stop looking at me like that…”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Seriously, Kerst?”

  “Not at all. You can’t blame a woman for admiring something beautiful.” Kerstin grinned, and Bennett’s face colored bright pink. “Are you embarrassed?”

  “Maybe. I don’t think of myself as beautiful, but I like that you do.”

  She debated going to Bennett, finally gave in, and knelt beside her chair, resting a hand on her leg. “I realize I’m giving you so many mixed messages, cold one minute and hot the next, but I can’t keep my hands off you.”

  “You don’t hear me complaining.”

  She rose on her knees and kissed the side of Bennett’s mouth. “Maybe you should.”

  “Why?”

  “Because this fling, tryst, whatever can’t go anywhere, and you deserve more.”

  “I’m a big girl, and you’ve been honest. It’s only sex.” Bennett shifted from the chair to the bed, guiding Kerstin with her. “I’ll take whatever you offer with no complaints.”

  “Should you be—”

  “Enough shoulds. I want you, and I don’t care if I pop every stitch. Just one thing.”

  “Name it.” Kerstin swung her leg over Bennett and straddled her on the bed. She’d give Bennett whatever she wanted this time, and Bennett knew it.

  Bennett cupped Kerstin’s ass and urged her closer. “I’m in charge. My side. We might have to take things a bit slower.”

  A tinge of something uncomfortable swelled into recognizable panic, but Kerstin nodded. Relinquishing even small decisions about her life practically gave her hives. Could she be vulnerable enough with Bennett to give up control? Did she want to try? Her urgent need for Bennett minutes earlier cooled a bit, something akin to performance anxiety gripping her. She hoped Bennett couldn’t feel her apprehension. “Should I undress?”

  “Let me take care of you. Relax. Can you do that for me?” Her voice dropped to a husky timbre, sending goose bumps across Kerstin’s skin. Bennett placed her hands—once rough from volleyball and the outdoors but now gentle and soft with the patience of a woman used to giving pleasure—on either side of Kerstin’s face and forced eye contact. “I’ve got you.”

  Bennett raised her hands inches above the surface of the skin and moved her fingers, slowly tracing the contours of her face, so close Kerstin felt their warmth and ached for their physical touch. Bennett raked her fingers in front of Kerstin’s eyes, across her nose, and stopped at her mouth. Kerstin moistened her lips, praying for Bennett’s mouth on hers.

  “Your breath is so hot and fast. Do you like this?”

  She swallowed hard. Did she like being teased, controlled, and wound up until she exploded? “I’m…not sure.”

  “Maybe you need more convincing. I’m going to kiss you now.”

  She didn’t like kissing during sex. Kissing implied intimacy she didn’t feel, but before she could say no, Bennett’s mouth settled on hers and her objections vanished. Bennett traced the tip of her tongue lightly across Kerstin’s lips, bringing a new level of heat. Kerstin opened to her, and Bennett’s tongue entered gradually, explored her mouth, and toyed with her tongue before finally claiming her completely. A flash of desire spread from her center so quickly the force shocked Kerstin, and she released a soft cry.

  Bennett pulled back, and Kerstin cupped her head, desperate to kiss her again. “Don’t stop. I liked that…very much.” The admission surprised her, but she was too aroused to analyze why. “More of that.”

  “Easy. Remember, I’m injured.” Bennett kissed her lightly several times and each time pulled back. She fisted Kerstin’s hair, tugged gently, licked a path along her throat and released, and then repeated the sequence until the tugs registered in her crotch and she grew wetter.

  “Ben, please.” She didn’t beg during sex. Ever. Another light kiss. “Please.”

  Bennett traced her face again, moaning quietly as if they were already joined. “You’re so wired I can feel you vibrating without touching you. So sexy.”

  “Ben…what are you doing to me?”

  “Loving you.” Bennett unbuttoned her blouse, one button a
time, careful not to touch skin. She blew her breath across each patch of exposed flesh, driving Kerstin wild.

  She rocked forward in Bennett’s lap, signaling her need, but Bennett carefully peeled her blouse off her shoulders. The ambient air hit her skin and she shivered, surprised by the coolness. “Touch me?”

  “Soon.” Sliding her index fingers between Kerstin’s bra straps and the dip of her shoulders, Bennett eased each down. “Slip your arms out.” Kerstin started to jerk her arms free, but Bennett said, “Slowly. We’re not in a hurry.”

  “You might not be, but I’m dying here.”

  “Unfasten your bra for me.”

  She did as instructed and cupped her exposed breasts, offering them to Bennett. Instead, she blew her hot breath against each breast and then sucked in the air around it, cooling her nipple and making it pucker and ache.

  “Oh…my…God, Ben.”

  “Do you like that?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell me.”

  “I really like it, but I need to be touched.” Imagining Bennett’s skillful hands replacing her perfectly executed breaths turned her insides liquid. She was so wet she was certain Bennett could feel it through her clothes. How was it possible to be so turned on by someone breathing on her? Was she simply excited by a new experience or by Bennett? She rolled her pelvis forward, desperate for contact, but Bennett pulled back.

  “Are you ready, Kerst?”

  “So ready.”

  “Unzip your jeans for me.”

  Kerstin was quick and started to work her body out of the confining clothes.

  “Leave them on.”

  “But I want to feel you.”

  “You will.” Bennett folded Kerstin’s jeans aside, twisted her finger in the band of her bikinis, and pulled up.

  “Ohhhh, yes.” She rocked back and forth, enjoying the pressure of the fabric against her. “Good.”

  “I’m going to touch you now, Kerst.”

  “Yes.”

  Bennett slid her hand into Kerstin’s jeans and stroked her. “You really are wet.”

  “I want you, now.”

  “Right now?”

  Kerstin opened her eyes and stared at Bennett’s smiling lips. “This second.” She grabbed Bennett’s wrist and shoved it farther into her jeans.

  Bennett entered her and pressed the heel of her palm against Kerstin’s clit. She rose on her knees and stretched backward, giving Bennett as much room as possible to maneuver. “That’s it. Like that.” She pumped up and down on Bennett’s hand, the sensation almost driving her to immediate orgasm.

  “Slow down, Kerst. I want to enjoy this as long as possible.”

  “Can’t…slow…down.” She panted each word, unable to stop her building climax. “Let me…go. Please, Ben.”

  Bennett leaned forward and captured Kerstin’s breast between her lips, sucking her nipple in time with her thrusting fingers. Kerstin lost it. She pulled Bennett deeper as she trembled and her insides turned molten. Continuous waves of pleasure swept through her until she could barely breathe. The spiraling slowed, but Bennett wound her up again, sending her to another screaming orgasm.

  They completely undressed and went several more rounds before she finally whispered, “St…op.”

  “You actually want me to stop?” Bennett slowly slid up Kerstin’s body and pulled her into a hug. She kissed Kerstin’s forehead and brushed a few strands of damp hair off her face.

  “I need to breathe.”

  “Relax.” Bennett wrapped her arms tighter around her. “And thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Giving yourself to me.”

  Kerstin was still gasping for breath, her heart pounding hard against her chest. Was that what she’d done? No, she’d had sex, great sex, but still only sex, right? She didn’t have such intense or prolonged orgasms with others, nor did she feel so satisfied or such a sense of belonging. She wanted to examine why, to understand what made this encounter different, what Bennett’s words meant, but she resisted, content in her pleasure and the feel of Bennett’s arms around her.

  Chapter Twenty

  Before daybreak the next morning, Bennett eased out of Kerstin’s arms and gently covered her with a blanket. She sat on the bed watching the delicate rise and fall of Kerstin’s chest and listening to the steady cadence of her breathing. Her blond hair cascaded around her head on the pillow, a halo highlighting a satisfied face. She wouldn’t forget the way Kerstin’s fingers threaded through her hair when they kissed, the subtle darkening of her blue eyes when aroused, or the way she arched backward and flushed as she came. The image of Kerstin climaxing, her body first tense and then in release, replaced the bathrobe vision as Bennett’s favorite.

  Kerstin’s skin was so silky. She responded to Bennett’s kisses urgently, hungrily seeking more. Kerstin’s touch and scent still lingered on Bennett’s body and in her nostrils. Though her injury limited vigorous activities, she’d enjoyed making love to Kerstin more than she imagined possible. She carefully studied Kerstin’s nude body, memorizing every detail, unsure if she’d have the opportunity again.

  She dressed and debated writing a note, but what would she say? Thanks for the sex. Let’s do it again sometime. See you at work. I don’t want this to be casual. Nothing made sense until the last possibility. She didn’t want her night with Kerstin to be just a spontaneous romp. Their relationship didn’t feel casual before, and after having sex with her again, it certainly didn’t now.

  Leaving without saying anything wasn’t her style and didn’t feel right either, but Kerstin had left her asleep the first time. Maybe that was her way of keeping things simple, so she followed Kerstin’s example. As she walked toward the door, part of her remained with Kerstin, where she belonged. Only one thing was powerful enough to pull her away.

  Bennett stopped on the street outside the Green Hill Cemetery behind the Ma Rolls van. Two stone pillars connected by an arched wrought-iron sign marked the entrance to the fifty-one-acre garden-style cemetery. Her grandfather and father were buried here in a circular family plot with enough space for the entire family. She got out of her car, and G-ma and Mama exited the van.

  “Morning, Ben.” Mama gave her a big hug and looked her over. “Everything all right?”

  “Cheeks are a bit rosy,” G-ma said and grinned. “Sweatshirt’s a little small for you.”

  “I’m fine. Where’s everybody else?” Picnic breakfast at the cemetery on the anniversary of the deaths of Garrett and Bryce Carlyle was another family tradition. Today they’d honor her grandfather, killed so many years ago that Bennett barely remembered him.

  “They’ll be along.” Mama opened the back of the van and handed her the familiar checked tablecloth. “That’s heavy enough for you today. The others can help with the rest.”

  As she walked toward the entrance, Simon, Stephanie, and the kids drove up, followed by Jazz and Dylan. “Help Mama with the folding chairs and baskets?” The family pitched in, and a few minutes later, breakfast sandwiches, coffee, juice, and fruit adorned the tablecloth.

  Dylan handed her a coffee and whispered, “How’s the side?”

  “I’m good. Thanks. I owe you.”

  “No problem.” She leaned in closer and whispered, “FYI, everybody knows you didn’t come home last night. See what I mean about needing space?”

  “Great.”

  G-ma stretched her arms out to the side, and they joined hands around the food in front of G-pa’s headstone. “Dylan, I believe it’s your turn to say a few words, if you will.”

  Dylan nodded and looked around at the family for a few seconds before speaking. “Papa died before I was born, but I feel like I know him through the stories you guys tell. I know he loved his family, his job, and his community. He left a legacy of dedication and commitment we live by still. We love you and miss you, Papa.”

  G-ma wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, kissed her fingers, and pressed them against the stone. “Love you, honey.�
��

  “Let’s eat.” Simon grabbed two paper plates and placed a sandwich and some chopped fruit on each before passing one to Ryan and Riley.

  They ate for the next hour and told stories of Papa’s shenanigans while wooing G-ma, the birth of their son, and his adventures on the force. They laughed more often than cried, and that was the way Garrett would’ve wanted it, according to G-ma.

  Jazz helped Bennett pack the van for Mama and waved as she drove away. “I love this family so much, Ben. I’d probably be dead if Mama and Pa hadn’t taken me in.”

  They bumped shoulders and walked toward their cars. “And we wouldn’t be complete without you. Some jealous lover would’ve probably killed me years ago if you hadn’t had my back. You’ve always been a good fit.”

  “Speaking of lovers, where were you last night? Your car wasn’t out front when I came in from work around two and wasn’t there this morning. Something you need to tell me?”

  “Not a thing.” Her big smile was all Jazz needed to reach her own conclusion.

  “I see how it is. You finally sleep with the woman you’ve been hot for—exactly how long has it been—and you don’t want to share? It’s okay for you to set me up and pry into my love life, but I can’t do the same?” Jazz’s kidding told Bennett she cared without seriously prying.

  Bennett propped against the side of Jazz’s car and shrugged. “You know how it is.” They occasionally shared vague tidbits about a tryst, but not specifics. They were both too principled. And if the right woman came along, everything was off-limits unless shared in the strictest confidence while seeking advice.

  “Yeah, I do, and I’m happy for you. I hope things work out.” She gave Bennett a hug. “See you at the station later?”

  “You bet.” She watched Jazz drive down Wharton Street toward Battleground and hoped the same thing.

  * * *

  Kerstin stretched her arms and legs languidly across the big bed, enjoying the loose feel of her muscles and the sense of peace inside. She’d slept soundly, woke relaxed and something else, happy perhaps. Bennett had made love to her, intimately, sensually, completely, and she’d melted in a series of powerful orgasms. She turned toward the last spot she’d seen Bennett. Kerstin hungered for her again, but the only evidence of Bennett was an impression of her head in the pillow. Kerstin’s stomach seized and she was suddenly tense again.