by V. K. Powell
Macy had dominated the first time they had sex and had intended to let Leigh take charge tonight, but something inside her wouldn’t let go. Did it really matter who was in control as long as they were both satisfied? She chose not to examine the question too closely. “On your knees.”
Leigh knelt in front of her, eyes glazed. The control Macy wielded rode her like an impatient mistress, and her arousal spiked. “Lick me.”
Burying her face in Macy’s crotch, Leigh gripped her ass and inhaled deeply. “You’re so hot, and you smell delicious.”
“I need your mouth on me.” Sliding Macy’s bikinis off, Leigh spread her labia with her fingers and licked from the base of her clit to the tip, then flicked back and forth. “Stop.”
“Mmm, but it’s so good,” Leigh said.
She clutched Leigh’s shoulders to remain upright. “Too much…have to lie down.” Leigh eased her down on the sofa, settling between her legs, and blew a hot breath between her lips that registered like physical touch. She pulled Leigh’s hands to her breasts, entwined their fingers, and kneaded her hungry flesh. Her hips pumped to meet Leigh’s mouth as she claimed her. “Now.”
But Leigh slowed, circling her clit with the tip of her tongue, teasing and refusing the hard, consistent contact she needed. Leigh was trying to control the pace. “More…” She refused to beg. Her other commands stuck against the dry walls of her throat. Long, torturous foreplay wouldn’t be possible tonight. She needed to come. Trying to convey her needs to Leigh, she arched toward her and moaned. “Ohhh…”
“You don’t like being teased, do you?”
“No, I—” Leigh’s tongue found the perfect spot. “Right there.” A swell of urgency rushed her as the hands at her breasts and the tongue at her clit synchronized. “Oh…yes.” They rocked in unison. “Don’t stop.” When Leigh’s finger slipped inside her, all sensation coalesced between her legs and oozed out. “That…is…so…good.” She cupped the back of Leigh’s head and held her in place as she rode her mouth through a wave of powerful orgasms.
As her body slowed, she felt Leigh’s insistent pace against her lower leg. “What do you need?”
Leigh crouched over her and straddled her upper thigh. “Give me your hand.” Leigh guided Macy’s hand between her legs and pressed her fingers against her rigid flesh. “Rub right here, but don’t go inside.”
She centered her middle finger along the length of Leigh’s clit, her own twitching in response. “You are so hard.”
“Need you, Macy.” She stroked slowly, pressing firmly at the base and withdrawing before reaching the tip, balancing Leigh’s climax on the end of her finger. “Please…”
She rolled Leigh over. She had to watch Leigh’s face. “How badly do you want this?”
Leigh’s nails dug into her ass. “Hurts…”
“I love teasing you and seeing how much you want me. You do want me, don’t you, Leigh?” She stalled, her finger poised for the next stroke.
“Oh, God, yes. Don’t stop touching me.”
“Say my name. Tell me who you want.”
“Macy. I want you, Macy.”
“Good girl.” She tweezed Leigh’s clit between her fingers and rocked back and forth. “I promise to let you come soon.” She kissed Leigh, sucking her tongue hard as she simultaneously pulled at the base of her sex. The throbbing between her legs mirrored their pace.
“Umm…” Leigh moaned deep in her throat and bucked against Macy’s hand.
“Open your eyes, Leigh. Look at me.”
When Leigh opened her eyes, they were wide and wild, and the pleading Macy saw encouraged her to relieve the pain. She stroked faster and watched as Leigh’s tongue repeatedly licked her dry lips and her chest rose and fell with labored pants. Leigh teased the nipple of one breast with her forefinger while massaging the other breast with her open hand. Macy touched only one spot but memorized every self-inflicted action that heightened Leigh’s arousal. “Are you ready to come, my darling?”
“Please.” Their gaze locked as Macy’s frenzied rubbing brought her repeatedly off the bed to meet her. “Oh, yes. Harder.” The concentration on Leigh’s face froze and suddenly drained away as her body arched one final time and collapsed beneath her. “Ohhh, yes! Oh, Macy, so good.”
Macy slid her hand down between Leigh’s folds and reveled in the flood she’d released. She draped herself across Leigh’s body and squirmed until they were touching in the most intimate places. Rubbing her center against Leigh’s, one pass, then two, she felt another tiny orgasm seep from her body and spill over her lover. Perfect. She drifted off.
Chapter Sixteen
The warmth surrounding Macy evaporated as her backside chilled, then her arms and legs, and finally the side of her face. She opened her eyes and looked past Leigh’s chin to the morning sky above the apartment balcony. It was going to be a beautiful spring day. The front of her body was hot, still pressed against Leigh. She nuzzled closer and pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over their bodies. She hadn’t slept so comfortably since their last encounter.
Leigh shifted under her. “Good morning, gorgeous. I thought maybe I dreamed you. What a perfect night.”
“It was, wasn’t it?” She prayed her agreement wouldn’t break the spell. If there was a way to jinx a relationship, she’d find it. The last time she’d woken in Leigh’s arms, she’d panicked and rushed her out of the cottage like a cheap trick. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Thank you for that, by the way.”
“No, thank you.” Leigh raised her left hand and kissed each knuckle before turning it over and kissing her palm and then the faded scar across her radial bone. She didn’t ask, but the pain in her eyes was enough.
“I couldn’t take losing Jesse. I blamed myself and went into a severe depression for months. The guilt was unbearable. Thought I had nothing to live for, but I was a teenager.” She snuggled closer to Leigh. “Fortunately, I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry you lost your best friend. That would be hard at any age, but especially so when you’re young.”
The comfort of Leigh’s arms kept the usual wave of sadness to tropical-storm instead of tsunami level. She kissed Leigh, tenderly at first in appreciation for her understanding, but as heat rose between them, her body fired to life again. “God, you make me so horny.”
“I’m glad,” Leigh said.
“I just haven’t felt this way in a very long time, and I don’t want what we have to just be about sex.” She paused. “I’m sorry. Not sure where that came from.”
Leigh hugged her closer. “Don’t be sorry. I’d love to know what you want.”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“You know what they say, appreciate the power of yet. Would you try, for me?”
Was it possible to verbalize something she’d never clearly formulated? “From the time I was old enough to know about feelings and sex, I wanted only Jesse. When that was no longer possible, I didn’t want anyone. But I went through the motions because I couldn’t just give up. You’re the first person I’ve ever told about Jesse. With everyone else, I couldn’t get past that block. I couldn’t share my greatest loss with them, so how could I share my deepest fears or desires? My exes can attest to the fact I wasn’t very good at pretending.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know what this,” she waggled her finger between them, “means.”
“Maybe you don’t have to. You’re doing a great job with the intimacy part right now. It’s a process.”
Was she capable of caring so deeply that she wanted to be patient, to share everything, to discuss the minute details of their lives ad nauseum? She smiled at the thought of lying naked in bed with Leigh every morning while they drank coffee and talked about Leigh’s latest case or her new painting. “Maybe, I don’t know.” The idea made her uncomfortable. “I should get up.” She stretched out of Leigh’s embrace and reached for her clothes.
“Why?”
She continued to d
ress but then remembered the hurt on Leigh’s face the first time they’d had sex and she’d pulled away so abruptly. “This isn’t like before, promise. I was just going to get us some coffee. Then we can enjoy the sunrise and have a bit of quality time.”
“Macy, wait.” Leigh caught her arm as she headed for the kitchen. “I need to tell you something important.”
“Then it’ll definitely have to wait. Too much serious talk already without coffee. Hold that thought.” She leaned down, kissed Leigh’s forehead, and thumbed the worry lines between her eyes. “And stop looking so solemn. I’ll be right back.”
She tucked the blanket around Leigh and padded barefoot into the kitchenette. The stainless coffee canister was exactly where it had been for years, but a new four-cup pot sat nearby. She measured the coffee, poured the water, and pushed the button.
“I was thinking maybe we could—” The words died on her lips as she focused on the folder on the corner of the table. Jesse Quinn. She picked it up and looked closer, sure she’d misread. Jesse Quinn. Opening the file, she stared at the witness statement on top of the stack—her statement. Then she couldn’t see anything as tears blurred her vision and then created dark circles as they fell onto the pages.
“Wh—what is this?” When she turned, Leigh was standing within arm’s distance, nude, with a look of horror. “Strike that. I know what it is. Why do you have it?”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you. I’ve been trying to talk to you about this since—”
She held up her hand, “Wait. Was it before or after we had sex the first time?” Her stomach roiled, and she breathed through the nausea.
“Before, right after you told me about Jesse. Remember, I tried to tell you that night, but—”
“So you’re really going to blame me? Shit, how could I have been so stupid? You’ve been hiding this from me all along? Is this why you’re here? Are you people still trying to cover up the truth about Jesse? Or maybe you think it was my fault too.”
Her thoughts were tight knots of confusion. She wasn’t sure what she was asking or what all this meant, but she was interrogating a naked woman—a woman whose beautiful body she’d devoured in every conceivable fashion only a few hours earlier. If the situation wasn’t so horrific, it would be laughable. “Put some clothes on. It’s hard to have a dignified conversation when you’re nude.”
“I don’t care about being dignified. You have to listen to me.” Leigh reached for her but stopped when Macy stared.
“No, I don’t…and I can’t. Do you remember our discussion when I found out you were a cop?”
“Of course I do, and I haven’t lied. Don’t you want to know why I have the file? I can explain.”
“You do know this case is why I became a forensic artist. You also know I’ve lived and breathed this nightmare for sixteen years. And it’s also why I quit doing forensics work six months ago, because Rickard flatly refused to review it for me. You’re the only one I’ve ever told about the pain and guilt I’ve carried over this. I just can’t believe you’d keep this from me.”
Leigh’s body was flushed a light shade of pink as she gestured desperately. Macy was torn between wanting to hold her and pretend she’d never seen the damn file and pushing her over the balcony into the cold lake.
“Don’t you want me to explain?”
“I’m not sure I’d believe you. I’ll find out for myself.”
“Really, Macy, I’ve been waiting for the right time. I didn’t want you to misunderstand and be hurt again. You have to trust me.”
“Wrong.” The coffee machine chimed as Macy headed for the steps. “Get your own coffee, and you should probably leave.”
*
Leigh watched Macy descend the stairs, and the room immediately became too cold and empty to endure. She grabbed the blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around her. Macy’s rosemary fragrance wafted from the fibers, making her ache for what suddenly seemed so far away. She clung to the balcony railing and flipped through the scene that had just played out.
Everything that had seemed so perfect had just vanished on the morning breeze, as if it never existed—and it probably hadn’t. She’d disregarded the caution signs, ignored Macy’s warnings that she wasn’t relationship material. Maybe she’d also purposely withheld the truth about the case review because she wanted to prove Jesse was dead, so Macy could move on. But now she needed to face the fact she could never replace Jesse in Macy’s heart, never be that one true love she still craved.
As she stared over the lake, the pain settling in her heart had no equal. She’d fallen in love with Macy Sheridan and in trying so desperately to make everything perfect had destroyed it all.
She turned from the balcony toward the room that had seemed like a real home for such a short but wonderful time. She’d imagined herself here with Macy, learning about each other, testing the waters of a new life, molding it into what they needed and wanted. Those images faded.
Packing wouldn’t take but a few minutes, so she sat and drank her last cup of coffee in this place, which had lost most of its rich flavor. She couldn’t bring herself to shower off the remnants of her night with Macy, so she pulled on yesterday’s clothes. In less than two hours, she’d packed everything into the raggedy boxes she’d brought and lowered them to the deck below. One by one she hauled them to her car, casting a glance at the cottage with each pass, hoping Macy would stop her or at least be willing to talk.
She climbed the apartment steps one final time and checked for anything she’d left behind. Toby sat on the kitchen counter as if refusing to leave. His knit face looked as unhappy as hers felt. “Sorry, buddy, we’re homeless again. I promise we’ll have a place of our own. Maybe not with a view like this, but something nobody can throw us out of.”
Scribbling a quick note to Macy, she folded it around the key and tucked Toby under her arm. She knocked on the cottage door several times but got no answer. Circling the house, she called out, but Macy wouldn’t respond. She wedged the note under the door and drove into town.
It was eight thirty when she knocked on Pam’s door, and it took her awhile to answer. Several neighbors gave her annoyed looks out their windows before the front door opened and Pam hustled her inside.
“This better be good.” She waved a hand in front of her nose as Leigh passed. “You smell like pussy. Anybody I know? Wait, I detect a whiff of paint and clay—forensic artist?”
“Not funny.”
“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise so soon?”
Leigh shrugged out of her leather jacket, dropped it on the floor, and slumped into Pam’s sofa. “I’m glad one of us can be humorous this morning. Got any coffee?”
“Does a wild bear shit in the woods? Be right back.” Pam returned with two travel mugs and joined her on the sofa. “So, what brings you out so freaking early without a shower after a great night of sex?”
“What makes you think—”
Pam wiggled her index finger at her with way too much energy. “Don’t even try it. We roomed together in college. I’d know your fresh-fucked look anywhere. You had sex with the artist and the morning-after bombed? Let me guess. She made commitment demands? Wanted you to move in? Never mind, you’re already there. Wanted to have your babies or wanted you to have her babies? Started feeling like a cling-on?”
She shook her head with each inane suggestion.
“Well, I give up. Tell me already. Daylight’s burning.”
She recapped the details of Jesse’s missing-person case, the possible connection with a murder, and that she’d kept her review of the case a secret from Macy.
“What the fuck? For somebody who’s so damn emotionally expressive and tuned into other people’s feelings, you can be thick as a brick sometimes. She already went ballistic about the cop thing. Didn’t you think for just a minute this might rattle her cage even worse? This is about her best friend’s case. This is serious shit.”
The sip of coffee she’d taken suddenly tasted like
poison. “I wanted to tell her, but every time I tried, she’d stop me or we’d…”
“You’d end up having sex—not good, my friend. Now she thinks you withheld the truth so you could keep fucking her.”
“Don’t say that.” She wasn’t going to let anyone talk about Macy in an unflattering way, not even her best friend.
“It’s true and you know it.”
“I meant the fucking part. It’s not like that with her.”
Pam lowered her coffee cup and stared at her for several seconds. “Oh, shit, are you in love with her?”
“I think so.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. We’ve got to figure something out and fast.”
“Did you miss the part about her wanting me to leave?”
“She’s just upset right now and not seeing things clearly. It’s amazing how easily the truth can become convoluted beyond recognition, isn’t it?”
“I’ve got a feeling we’re not talking about Macy any more.”
“If the shoe fits,” Pam said.
“Please don’t start about Susan, not now.”
“Fine, just drawing an obvious parallel. And don’t give up on Macy. She’ll calm down, and then the two of you can talk. And when that day comes, you better tell her everything down to the most minute detail—like the fact that you masturbate to images of Sigourney Weaver in Alien.”
“Hey, don’t ever say that aloud again.”
Pam crossed her heart. “I swear. Do you need a place to stay?” She nodded. “Let’s get you settled.”
They unpacked the boxes that had been in her car for less than an hour and stashed them in Pam’s spare bedroom. “I really appreciate this.”
“What are best friends for? Besides, it’s not like I’m nesting with the woman of my dreams at the moment, so you’re not interrupting anything. Stay as long as you need or until I get a girlfriend, whichever comes first.”
“What happened to the nurse you were seeing?”