Love's Masquerade

by Radclyffe

  “Why not?” Unerring fingers slid into Thane’s hair and massaged the sensitive places at the base of her neck. “We’re adults. And just in case you hadn’t noticed, we’re both...interested.”

  “Oh, believe me. I noticed.” Thane drew a shaky breath, her insides flooding with instant desire. “You said something last night...while we were...kissing.”

  “Did I?” Warm lips moved over Thane’s ear, a tongue slipped along the inner rim, making her groan. “I can’t remember saying much of anything.”

  “You said—oh, Christ...that feels good.”

  Laughter again, throaty and low.

  “You said,” Thane tried again despite the fact that her head was swimming, “that you wanted to have more than a one-nighter.”

  “Mmm. And?” Lips brushed Thane’s mouth, sucked on her lower lip lightly.

  “I want...” Thane pulled her head back, barely able to focus, and cleared her throat. “You have to stop that.”

  “Why?” Curious, concerned eyes searched hers. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re going to make me...embarrass myself here.” Thane’s chest was heaving. “I’m too ready...already...for this kind of teasing.”

  “God.” A soft moan. “You are so, so sexy. Just knowing you’re that close makes me crazy.”

  “I don’t want to ruin my reputation by firing off too fast.” Thane tightened her hold, brushed a kiss along the undersurface of the most beautiful jaw she’d ever seen. “At least not the first time.”

  “Ah, but who’s to know? And trust me—” The kiss was deep, demanding. “I won’t mind a bit.”

  Finally, Thane drew away and ran a finger over the sensuous mouth, swollen now with arousal. “I want to start this off right. Slow.”

  “You’re serious?” Surprise now, and wonder.

  “Yes,” Thane whispered. “I want you to have what you want.”

  -----Reply-----

  From: thaneCutlass@CutlassFic.com

  Sent: Sunday March 30, 5:03 AM

  To: Rune@HeartLand.com

  Subject: Re: Possible Meeting

  Attachment: Obsess.doc 128KB

  Rune:

  Yes, I’m still in town and will be here until at least tomorrow afternoon. Definitely free to meet today. I’ll see you at eleven-thirty at the Striped Bass. Looking forward to it.

  As to last night, in case you were wondering -- Let’s just say that it was everything I expected and more.

  There is only one thing that inspires better than unrequited lust, don’t you think? Requited lust

  Fact or fiction? Grin – you decide, or just enjoy imagining.

  Later, Thane

  Oh, Christ. Hays knew just where Thane had been the night before, and with whom. All week, she’d been trying not to think about Auden’s planned outing with Thane, Gayle, and Liz. Only the receipt of Auden’s frequent e-mails outlining the progress on their first publication had enabled her to put Thane’s date with Auden from her mind the last few days. Now, confronted with the reality of it, the last thing she wanted was to share Thane’s experiences, even if they were filtered through the artist’s lens and changed by the process itself. The words, if not the facts, would still hold the image of Auden.

  Auden and Thane. God.

  Private Pleasures – Obsession

  I’m not counting on anything, just hoping, as I shower slowly, covering every part of my body with thick, scented suds. I can’t help imagining it is your hands sliding over my sensitized skin, and just the thought of your fingers smoothing along the edges of my desire makes me throb.

  I dry off, careful not to linger near responsive areas. When I’m this ready, the merest touch will make me wet. Still, as I pull the soft, well-broken-in leather pants over my naked legs, I know I will be soaked before I get the zipper closed. The ridged seam presses against me. I’m stone hard. I’ll be harder still before the night is over, and I might very possibly end the night alone. Again. With nothing for comfort but this anticipation and the lingering memory of you.

  I was wrong. So wrong. And so happy to be wrong.

  I don’t know how it happened, what turn of events led me away from the noise and the crowd and the uncertainty back to your apartment, but here I stand.

  Ready. So very, very ready.

  I stand, my butt resting against the rounded back of the sofa, waiting as you watch me from just inside the door. Part of me is praying. Can you feel my need in the dark, hear my desire in the silence?

  You turn on one dim light, then step to me silently, taking me in—not brazenly, not boldly, but through still, calm, steady eyes. I look back, trying to give nothing away. But it’s hard to be cool when my bones are melting. My trembling hands rest on the leather sofa back as I present myself, expose my need, bare not just my body, but also my soul. The air between us crackles with currents of unspoken desire.

  You flicker a smile, then lower your gaze—down the plane of my chest, over my belly, to my crotch. Your finger follows your glance, tracing the center of my body lightly, lingering on the space between my thighs. I make a sound—a moan, I think. Before I can draw another breath, you kneel between my parted legs and press a palm to each black-clad thigh. The muscles in my belly clench at the first faint touch.

  Then your face is against the leather covering me, pressing hard enough for me to feel the ache in my clitoris, and a warning tingle ripples down my legs. I swallow the next moan, trying not to pump against you. I want it to last. I want to come so very badly. I look down, watching you through the haze of need as you slowly touch me. I want it to be what you want it to be.

  Your hands come to my fly; you slide the zipper down, spread the material, grip the waistband and pull hard, almost but not quite exposing me. The leather rides against my swollen flesh and the sudden pressure almost makes me come. My arms shake with the effort of keeping myself upright. I am barely breathing, struggling not to move. Your arms circle behind me, hands kneading my buttocks, pulling me hard against your face. Your chin striking my rigid clitoris, trapped by soft leather, sends fire along my spine. I am dying; I am silent. I want you to have what you want.

  The tip of your tongue flicks at me, toying with me, making me twitch, the pleasure unbearable. I think I might fall. I grip the edges of the sofa harder, straight-arming it, determined to take it for as long as I can. My head is already swimming, my stomach in knots. As you slowly draw down the leather pants, you press your tongue lower, running along each side of the shaft, then rocking it back and forth. I bite my lip. I taste blood. I am poised to come, have been for hours, but I will wait until you have taken what you want.

  You tug my clothes to the floor, press your shoulders between my legs, parting them, opening me. Your tongue slides between slick folds, releasing a flood of passion onto your lips. You lick it greedily, bring your thumb to spread me wide, and dive deep inside with your mouth. It hurts to breathe; my thighs are shaking, muscles cramping. I choke on a groan that threatens to become a wail. I won’t last.

  You suck my arousal into your mouth, pulling gently, tormenting me. I’m whimpering—I can’t help it. You hear it, but you have the decency not to laugh. You allow me to believe that I am still in control as you enter me. The sudden pressure hits my clitoris, a swift spiral of pleasure shoots through me—I didn’t think I could get any harder, but I do. I’m so ready now it hurts. Gasping, hips jerking, I keep my eyes open, focus on you watching me, and will myself to hold on. The entire surface of my body is electrified. I’m suspended by a thread on the edge of orgasm, painfully swollen, inner muscles contracting spasmodically around your fingers. I want you to take what is yours.

  “Please, let me come.” The first words spoken.

  Mercifully, blessedly, you take pity on me. Thrusting into me, you pull all of me into your mouth, sucking hard, tongue working over the shaft, across the exposed tip. My head snaps back, a strangled cry escapes me, and—oh God! Finally, I start to come. Wave upon wave, pulsing, mind wrenching
, consuming. I’m sobbing, falling; you hold me up, strong arms wrapped around my thighs.

  “God, don’t stop,” I plead, still coming so hard.

  You lift your lips from me for an instant. “Not until I have it all,” you whisper, before you suck me into your mouth again.

  All of me. I want you to have what you want.

  Hays stared at the screen, not certain what she’d just read. Well, she knew what she’d read. Christ, Thane wrote the kind of sex she could taste. But there was something else going on, both in this segment and the last, that she sensed but couldn’t quite grasp. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost think that Thane was in love.

  The thought made her stomach twist. She closed her eyes and the words, the images, scrolled across her mind in vivid detail. And beneath it all was Auden.

  God, don’t let that be true. Don’t let this be real.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Thane nodded a greeting to the receptionist at the trendy upscale restaurant on Walnut Street and asked for Rune Dyre.

  “Right this way, please.”

  Thane followed across the large open room sectioned off by imposing columns toward a corner table set slightly apart from those of surrounding patrons. A dark-haired woman with her back to the other diners was already seated there.

  “Here we are,” the hostess said with a pleasant smile and turned away.

  Thane started toward the empty seat and then stopped in surprise when the woman looked up. “Ms. Palmer?”

  “Hays, remember?” Hays stood, smiling, and extended her hand. “And Rune Dyre as well. Hello, Thane.”

  “Holy hell,” Thane said softly, taking Hays’s hand. After she shook it firmly, she said with a wry grin, “I’m standing here trying to figure out if I’ve said anything imprudent about you to Rune.”

  Hays laughed and gestured to the seat opposite. “I can assure you that you haven’t, but I thought we’d best meet before things got much more complicated.”

  She had been out of the hospital for exactly three hours. She’d had just enough time to get home, shower and change, and make it to the restaurant in time for her meeting with Thane. Fortunately, she hadn’t had too much opportunity to ruminate on Thane’s latest vignette, or on what it meant. Sitting across from Thane now, Hays thought again how impossible it was not to like her. The other author exuded confidence and a roguish charm. At the moment, however, there was astonishment in Thane’s warm brown eyes, and she appeared to be speechless.

  “I’ve enjoyed our correspondence these last couple of years,” Hays confided, hoping to set her at ease.

  “So have I. You’re a hell of a writer, and it’s been a privilege to share that with you.” Thane leaned back in her chair, shaking her head, a grin lifting one corner of her mouth. “You’ve done one impressive job of keeping your identity a secret.”

  “I didn’t set out to create a mystery around Rune’s identity. At first, it was simply a matter of personal privacy,” Hays said reflectively. “Then Rune just became who I was when I was writing—not just to associates or readers, but to myself as well. It didn’t feel like a secret identity; it just felt natural—another part of me.”

  “I know what you mean.” Thane paused a moment while a waiter advised them of the luncheon specials and took their drink orders. “I spend a lot of my life writing or working on some aspect of getting my writing published. I have long-term relationships with people, people I think of as friends, and they know me only as Thane.”

  “Well, you are, aren’t you?’

  “Pretty much. Most of me, at least.”

  “By the way,” Hays asked, “what would you prefer I call you? I’m afraid you’re always going to be Thane to me, but I can adapt.”

  “Thane is fine. Teddy is okay, too, although usually just my girlfriends call me that.” Thane grinned when Hays laughed. “You?”

  “However it is that you see me.” Hays shrugged. “I can’t imagine being anyone other than Rune when we’re working. I answer to it as quickly as Hays.”

  “Agreed.”

  “I hope our collaboration continues. Writing can get lonely sometimes.”

  Thane toyed with a roll, trying to get her head around the fact that Rune was not only her confidant and co-author, but suddenly her publisher also. “So you plan to keep on writing, now that your company has our books?”

  “There are going to be some challenges now that Palmer has acquired WomenWords, and, if I have to, I’ll take my own work elsewhere. But I can’t imagine not writing.” Hays studied Thane’s handsome face. “Can you?”

  “No.” Thane fell silent for a few moments as she sampled her appetizer, then she asked, “Do you plan to tell Auden?”

  The ease with which Thane said Auden’s name caused Hays’ stomach to lurch. Until then, she’d been able to avoid thinking about Thane and Auden and what might have transpired between them. It was a moment before she was certain that her voice would be steady. “I haven’t decided. Probably. Eventually, I’m sure she would find out, and I don’t want her to feel compromised by working with me as Rune and not knowing.”

  “It’s more likely she’ll view your work impartially if she doesn’t know.”

  “Yes, that’s occurred to me. In many ways that would be best.” Hays found it increasingly difficult to discuss Auden with Thane, because images of the two of them together at the party, and worse, flashes of Thane’s Eros fantasies, kept intruding. “I’ll have to make a decision about that soon.”

  “Well, for the moment, it sounds like she’s pretty involved just getting things off the ground with Destiny. She won’t get to your book or Eros for a while.”

  “Yes, but she’s incredibly efficient. It won’t take long.”

  “Yeah. She’s amazing. Smart and beautiful.” Thane’s admiration was obvious.

  Hays could only nod, studying Thane’s face, searching for hidden meanings.

  Oblivious to Hays’ silence, Thane continued, “Have you made a decision about the Eros anthology? Are you going to let me use those vignettes?”

  “I’m not certain.”

  “Why not? They’re fabulous.”

  Hays glanced away. “They’re...personal.”

  “Jesus, do you think mine aren’t?” Thane laughed. “Christ, I’m practically writing my wet dreams these days.”

  “I—”

  “The one I sent you this morning was written after—”

  “Look, Thane—” Hays’s heart pounded rapidly and her head felt light. And it wasn’t because her blood count was in the cellar. She couldn’t hear this.

  “If Gayle hadn’t come out—”

  “Gayle?”

  Thane paused, her expression quizzical. “You remember her, don’t you? She was there when you...” The word collapsed died on her tongue, and she dropped her gaze awkwardly.

  “Yes,” Hays said, finding her voice. “Of course. She’s terrific.”

  “Terrific?” Thane looked up again. “Jesus, I’ll say. She’s got me tied up in knots. Anyhow, every time I think of her I want to write something else, and every time I do...my insides come pouring out. So I know about personal.”

  Hays was so relieved she couldn’t concentrate, could barely breathe. “Well, good luck. With Gayle, I mean. I hope it works out.”

  “Yeah, me too,” Thane said seriously, all semblance of bravado gone. Then, she smiled ruefully. “So how about you? Those new vignettes are powerful. More than that. They’re...” Heartbreaking was the word she wanted but couldn’t bring herself to say. “...hot in the extreme. Is there a woman behind those scenes?”

  “No,” Hays said softly. “Just dreams.”

  Auden sat on her couch wearing what she had slept in—a pair of scrubs that Gayle had given her—and cradled a cup of coffee in her hands. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t really seeing anything. She was thinking about the previous night.

  “They look like they’re having a good time,” Liz said as she slid over one seat to be
closer to Auden at the table.

  “Yes,” Auden said, watching Thane and Gayle dance. They looked so right together, Thane with her cheek against Gayle’s hair and Gayle’s fingers stroking the back of Thane’s neck.

  “Are you okay?”

  Auden smiled. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “I just wondered, because you seem a little distracted. Are you upset that Thane can’t take her eyes off Gayle?”

  “No.” Auden laughed. “Not in the least.” Then she gave Liz a kind glance. “Are you?”

  Liz shook her head. “No. I’ll admit I wouldn’t have minded a chance to date Gayle, but it just didn’t happen. Thane’s an old friend, and I’d love to see her happy. I thought maybe you had designs on Thane, though.”

  “Ah, no.”

  “Good. So, then, would you like to dance?”

  Auden hesitated.

  “Just a friendly dance,” Liz qualified quickly. “I’m not crazy about relationships in the workplace.” She sighed. “God, I seem to be talking myself out of dates these days faster than I can get one.”

  “I’d love to dance,” Auden said. “And friendly seems just right.”

  As they reached the dance floor, another slow song started, and before she realized it, Auden found herself in Liz’s arms. It happened so suddenly that she didn’t have time to be anxious. In fact, within seconds she realized that there was nothing to be anxious about. The subtle pressure of Liz’s body felt entirely natural. The soft swell of Liz’s breasts and the firm plane of her abdomen and thighs against hers were pleasant. The hand resting gently in the hollow of her back was warm and comfortable. She felt herself relaxing, enjoying the music and the moment.

  A knock on the door brought Auden back to the present. Barefoot, she padded over and called, “Yes?”

  “It’s me.”