by Radclyffe
Jesus! What am I saying! She thought with a jolt. Love her?
"Did you say something?" Diane shouted above the din of voices and music.
Sloan jerked out of her reverie. "No. Nothing."
As the room came into focus again, she spied a familiar figure. Slender, long-legged, unashamedly seductive in short leather skirt and a black lycra top, Jasmine moved on the dance floor with the same sensuous grace that had first attracted Sloan's attention years before in a similar smoke-clouded club. She suddenly realized why Jasmine had been able to fool her so successfully the first time they met. When Jasmine wasn't performing, her appearance was subtly different. What makeup she wore was carefully applied to highlight her eyes and sculpted cheekbones and to accentuate her lips, but it was far from the stage makeup that she wore professionally. Out of costume in normal clothing, Jasmine appeared unquestionably female. Sloan watched with just a tinge of envy as Jasmine and Sarah danced. The beat was heavy and fast, a backdrop of pulsation to match the barely contained sexuality seething through the couples on the crowded floor. Jasmine and Sarah's eyes were locked as their bodies surged with a seductive rhythm echoing the evocative tempo. Sarah wore jeans and a tight cotton T-shirt, and anyone looking at them would've thought her to be the butch member of the pair. Sloan smiled faintly to herself, thinking how often perceptions could be wrong, thinking too that very often the truth could not be known, only experienced.
She began searching for Michael and saw her moving towards the door. Sloan couldn't tell from across the room, but it looked like she might have been crying. "Excuse me," she said abruptly and as she set her beer back on the bar. She pushed quickly into the crowd and made it to the exit only a few steps behind Michael.
Once outside on the sidewalk she looked hurriedly up and down the street, and saw her nearly half a block away. "Michael!" she shouted, starting to run. She caught up to her quickly and stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Michael," she said gently. Being so close to her brought an ache to her chest. God, she was beautiful!
Michael turned, quickly brushing the last of her tears from her cheeks. "Hi," she said softly.
"Hi," Sloan answered, her throat dry. She peered into Michael's face intently, noting the wounded expression Michael was struggling to hide. "What is it?" Sloan questioned quietly, slipping her fingers down Michael's arm and into her hand. Seeing Michael in pain tore holes in her heart.
"Nothing," Michael replied, smiling ruefully. "I just had a bad moment there. It's been a tough few weeks."
"It's been a tough few months," Sloan agreed, gazing deep into Michael's eyes. She didn't notice the people stepping around them as they stood in the center of the sidewalk, bathed in the streetlight's pale golden glow. "But it's been an amazing few weeks, too."
Michael had to fight to concentrate on Sloan's words. She was mesmerized by the feel of Sloan so near, and the faint tantalizing smell of her, and the heat that poured from Sloan's fingertips as they lightly brushed her own. Michael watched Sloan's lips move and imagined them on her skin. She remembered their kisses, and longed for more. "What do you mean?" she asked, surprised by how hard it was to speak.
Sloan knew Michael was waiting to hear her answer, and she knew why. Until now, Michael had taken all the chances – she had been willing to say what she felt, and what she wanted. Michael had risked rejection and she had defied convention. It was time for Sloan to match Michael's courage and take a risk for her.
"You happened to me," Sloan whispered, stepping closer, her lips a breath away. "You swept into my life and stole my heart."
"Sloan," Michael murmured, her voice hushed with desire. "Oh, Sloan."
Sloan did kiss her then, a long careful kiss, just their lips tenderly exploring, their bodies bending to one another but not quite touching. It was as if they both knew that any more contact and they would forget exactly where they were.
"Way to go," someone cheered as a small crowd of women shouldered past on their way to the club. Sloan finally broke the kiss, and Michael smiled up at her tremulously.
"We seem to be making a spectacle of ourselves," Michael remarked, but didn't make any move to step away.
"Mmm," Sloan agreed, thinking that she wanted to taste Michael's lips again. Had anything ever been so sweet?
"You might invite me back to see the view from your loft," Michael said, her fingers trailing along the edge of Sloan's jaw. Sloan shuddered lightly and Michael felt a lightning surge of desire. "Say yes. Hurry."
"Oh god, yes," Sloan grated, grasping Michael's hand and pulling her toward her car.
"Sarah will wonder where I am," Michael declared urgently, even as she kept pace with Sloan.
"Don't worry," Sloan replied, fumbling her keys out of her pocket. "She'll be too busy tonight to worry."
Michael didn't answer; she simply slid into the seat, slid her hand along Sloan's thigh, and leaned over to kiss her neck. "So will I."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
"SLOAN?"
Sloan turned to gaze at Michael, who stood just inside the doors of the loft. Michael looked uncertain, and terribly vulnerable. Sloan's heart ached to see it, and she wanted to go to her and kiss the fear from her eyes. "What is it?" Sloan asked her gently.
Michael searched Sloan's face. Seeing the kindness and tenderness, she remembered Sloan's gentle touch and found the courage to continue. "What does this mean? Our being here?" She hesitated, her voice catching on the words. "Because I don't think I'll be able to forget you after this."
Sloan stood very still, struggling for the strength to accept the truth. "It means we--" she stopped, aware of the lingering fears hammering at her. She turned her mind from the memories, clinging instead to the image of Michael in her arms. "It means I want you, Michael. It means I need you. It means I will do anything I possibly can never to hurt you." She swallowed, then took a step closer to the woman who had captured her heart. "It means I love you, more than you will ever know."
Michael smiled, a tremulous smile that reflected the tears in her eyes. She crossed the remaining space between them, reaching for Sloan, threading her arms around Sloan's waist and nestling her head against Sloan's shoulder. "How is it you always know what to say?"
Sloan's arms closed around her, one hand gently stroking her hair. She laughed a little unsteadily. "For some reason, being near you makes it easy to say the things I feel. Even when they scare me to death, I can't stop them from coming out." She kissed the top of Michael's head, then reached gently to lift Michael's chin in the palm of her hand, gazing deep into her clear blue eyes.
"I love you, Michael Lassiter. So very much."
Michael smiled again, a full smile now that illuminated her features with hope and happiness. She brushed her lips across Sloan's, and echoed softly, "I love you, JT Sloan. So very much."
Suddenly, there was no longer any need for words. Each could feel the truth in the other's embrace. Michael pressed close, caressing Sloan's shoulders, her chest, her back. Their lips met as Sloan drew Michael's blouse from beneath the waistband of her skirt, running her hands over the soft skin she bared. She kept her mouth on Michael's, her hands rising to Michael's breasts, freeing them, starved for the feel of her flesh. Michael eased back enough to get her hands between their bodies and pulled at the buttons of Sloan's fly. She stroked Sloan's abdomen, running her fingers along the edges of the quivering muscles, desperately pushing at Sloan's jeans, trying to touch more of her. They twisted together, thrashing on twin hooks of desire, their kisses voracious, their hands greedy - hot and hungry and wild.
Sloan pulled away first, gasping, her stomach knotted with need so heavy she could barely stand. They were nearly naked in the middle of her living room, clothes in various stages of disarray. Sloan's hands shook where they lay on Michael's desire-dampened skin. Michael's face was flushed, her blue eyes cloudy with lust, and she moaned when Sloan's lips left hers.
"No," Michael protested, reaching for her again.
"Michael," Sloan
groaned as Michael's fingers slid down the front of her jeans. Her knees buckled and she almost fell. "Michael, wait! Bedroom, now, or we'll end up right here on the floor!"
Michael was on fire. The only thing she wanted was to feel her and taste her and consume her until the famine of a lifetime was satisfied, and then she wanted it again. "Hurry. I want you so much," she gasped.
They half stumbled across the floor, still embracing, shedding the rest of their clothes as they went. Reaching the edge of the bed, they tumbled onto the covers in a tangle of arms and legs. They couldn't seem to get close enough as limbs clasped and breasts cleaved and everywhere they licked and sucked and fought to join. Their groans echoed throughout the room until the air was thick with their passion.
"I can't stand it," Michael moaned, reaching between Sloan's thighs to find the heat and the wetness she craved, stroking through the swollen tissues, entering her deeply, than easing out to tantalize her with light touches and teasing caresses. Sloan tried to roll onto her, wanting her more than she wanted to be pleasured, but Michael stopped her, stronger than Sloan had imagined.
"No," Michael murmured, sliding inside again, reaching some place beyond the physical with her hands and her eyes and her pure selfless desire. "No, I want you. I want you. Trust me, please."
Sloan fell back, surrendering, giving her body and letting go, finally, of the pain. "Yes," she whispered, the word ending in a small choked cry. Michael's mouth was at her throat, biting lightly, then moving lower, over her breasts, down the center of her abdomen, pressing into the soft skin at the base of her belly. Sloan's hands found Michael's hair, then her cheek, as she lifted her hips in silent offering. She waited, the breath stilled in her chest, her blood poised to burn, for the touch that would set her free.
Michael paused, awestruck with wonder, as Sloan arched and grew taut, shudderingly close to exploding. She closed her eyes in gratitude and told Sloan with her mouth and her tongue and her arms wrapped tightly around Sloan's hips how very much she loved her. And when Sloan grew full and hard and the bands of her restraint broke with a deep groan, Michael continued to glory in her until all that existed in that room was the perfect harmony of their blood and their breath and the beat of their hearts.
* * *
Sloan awoke in darkness, streetlights casting pale flickering shadows over the bed. Michael's head lay on her shoulder, and the soft weight of Michael's breast filled her palm. Even in near blackness, Michael's hair shown golden against her luminescent skin, giving her the look of a sleeping angel. Sloan ran her fingers through the silken strands, thinking about miracles and second chances. She realized that even in the first blush of love with Elise she had never felt so connected, nor so damn lucky. Maybe it took losing to understand what it meant to win. She sighed without knowing it, pulling Michael closer.
Michael lay quietly, listening to the comforting, steady rhythm of Sloan's heart, basking in the tender attention of Sloan's caresses. The second time she heard Sloan sigh, she asked, "What's bothering you?"
"Did I wake you?" Sloan murmured, kissing the tip of her ear.
"No," Michael replied, snuggling a little closer, one hand resting lightly against Sloan's abdomen. She smiled when the muscles jumped at her touch. "And don't change the subject."
Sloan grinned to herself. "I was just thinking that I almost didn't let this happen. I was too stubborn to see that what I thought was love, years ago, never was at all."
Michael shifted until she lay on top of Sloan, raising up on her elbows and gazing into her face. "Don't. You were young and you were innocent, and there's no blame in that. We're here together now, and that's all that matters."
"I love you," Sloan whispered, liking the sound of it.
"That works out well then," Michael responded as she brought her lips close to Sloan's. "Because I love you, too."
It was slower this time, but no less powerful. When kisses weren't enough to quiet the fires, they shifted to face each other, trading languid strokes and teasing caresses as they stared into each other's eyes. When the matching pools of liquid desire deepened to overflowing, Michael arched her hips to take all of Sloan inside of her, murmuring, "Soon."
"Uh huh," Sloan groaned, as the pressure began to build and pound in the pit of her belly. She clenched her jaws and tried to hold on.
Michael began to tremble lightly, her eyelids fluttering closed for long seconds as her teeth caught at her lower lip, then her eyes opened wide as her hips jerked hard into Sloan's hand.
"Oh god," she cried just before her head snapped back and her voice tripped over the sudden spasm that gripped her.
The sound of Michael's pleasure was all it took to carry Sloan beyond her limits, and she surrendered with a sharp cry as tongues of fire swept through her muscles and along her nerves to burn a white-hot path into her brain. She was beyond words, able only to emit a series of broken groans.
Michael eventually found her voice, and whispered, "I've never felt anything like that before."
Sloan brushed at the tears on her own cheeks, and replied, "Neither have I."
Michael sighed, and tucked her head under Sloan's chin, fitting herself into every curve of Sloan's body. "That's all right then, isn't it?"
"Oh yes," Sloan murmured on the edge of sleep. "Just right."
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WHEN THEY AWOKE again, still wrapped in one another's arms, it was fully light. Sloan smiled at Michael, a slow easy smile of undisguised satiation. "Good morning."
"Morning," Michael responded, amazed to find herself where she had scarcely dared dream she would ever be. Hearing the warmth in Sloan's greeting and feeling the heat of their bodies pressed close together, she realized it was better than any dream. "Is there any particular morning-after ritual I should know about?"
Sloan's contagious grin widened. "Well, let's see, there's the part where we shower together and take a little extra time to get reacquainted. And then there's the part where we fix breakfast and in between clearing up and reading the paper we come back here for a little more intimate activity, and then maybe, just maybe, sometime later we get dressed."
It was Michael's turn to grin. "Sounds lovely. However, I think we need to do the breakfast part before the shower and those other wonderful activities, because I'm starving."
"I think I can arrange that," Sloan said, kissing her lightly, enjoying waking up together for the first time and sharing the first hours of the day. It was a pleasure she had long forgotten.
Just as they were about to get up, the phone rang. Sloan stared at it, debating answering it. She couldn't think of anyone important enough to interrupt this moment for, but she didn't want it to ring again at a more indelicate time either. She reached for it, thinking Better now than later.
"Sloan," she said.
"Ah, Sloan," Sarah's familiar voice responded. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Actually, yes," Sloan responded, pulling Michael close.
A soft laugh came to her through the line. Then Sarah said, "I thought I might be. I saw you come in last night, and the next thing I knew both Michael and you were missing. I hope that means something."
"Oh yes, it definitely means something," Sloan murmured, her eyes on Michael's lips. They were full, slightly swollen from the kisses the previous night, and the sight of those lips reminded her of how they felt on her skin. Sloan's heart stuttered in her chest. She glanced away because she didn't trust herself to form words while looking at Michael.
"My, my," Sarah continued with her teasing. "People will talk!"
"Jasmine was looking quite stunning last evening," Sloan managed, ignoring the taunt and giving Sarah some of her own medicine. She was willing to bet that she and Michael weren’t the only ones to raise eyebrows the night before.
It was Sarah's turn for silence. Then, her voice husky, she responded, "Yes, she was quite amazing. Beautiful, every step of the way."
In her mind, Sarah was replaying those first moments alone with Jasmin
e as they faced one another in the quiet of her bedroom. The hesitancy, the shy press of clad bodies as they kissed, both of them shaking. She wasn't sure which of them had been more nervous. Jasmine removed the short black wig and Sarah ran her hands through the slightly shorter golden hair beneath, amazed at the subtle shift from wholly feminine to androgynous that simple act produced. When she had reached under Jasmine's tight black top to release her bra, she thought for an instant that Jasmine would stop her, a swift tightening of muscle and sharp intake of breath warning of Jasmine's fear.
"It's all right," Sarah had whispered, running her tongue lightly up Jasmine's neck as she lifted the top and undergarment off together. In the faint glow of the bedside light, the exposed chest showed smooth and hairless, shimmering with a light sheen of sweat as androgyny transformed into maleness. As she ran her fingers over the clearly defined muscles, Jason quivered.
Sarah had scarcely noticed gentle hands removing her own blouse until their skin met and their bodies pressed urgently together. She glanced to the side and saw their reflection in the mirror, both of them nude from the waist up, naked breasts to bare chest, one in jeans, the other in skirt and stockings, images not only reversed but completely exchanged. She watched the reflection as she lifted the leather skirt, slid one hand beneath and found the sheer thong, clasping the fullness there, feeling her knees weaken even as Jason groaned and pressed himself into her hand.
When they lay together, Sarah felt Jason strong and deep within her even as she gazed up into Jasmine's tender eyes. She had welcomed them both with her passion.
"Jason was quite outstanding, too," Sarah murmured as she shook off the last of the memories.
Sloan heard the caring and wonder in Sarah's voice and her heart lifted with happiness for them both. "I'm glad, Sarah. Really. Jason is special, and so are you."