The Lonely Hearts Club

by Radclyffe

  “It’s not like she’s going to get involved or anything.”

  Confident that Liz wouldn’t be that crazy, Bren concentrated on following the narrow, overgrown path around the perimeter of the sprawling, cement block structure for some sign of the restroom. The side of the building facing the ball fields had once been a concession stand, but that was now boarded over and clearly no longer in use. Continuing through the ankle high, scraggly grass, she turned a corner and discovered an open archway with faded green letters above that read Women. She was happy she hadn’t waited until after dark, because even in the waning daylight the area looked deserted and mildly foreboding. She felt even less comfortable when she stepped through the archway into a large, dimly lit room with concrete walls and floors. The only light came through two narrow rectangular windows high up on the far wall. Four doorless stalls lined one wall, and two cracked, dirty porcelain sinks occupied the near corner. “Rustic” was a kind descriptor.

  Taking a tentative step deeper inside, Bren drew up short at the sound of a soft moan. Her first inclination was to flee, but another part of her was curious. Cautiously she crept forward and peered into the recesses of the first stall. A blond woman, a little older than Brenda, leaned with her shoulders against the cinderblock partition that separated the space from the next stall. When she turned her head and smiled faintly at Brenda, her eyes appeared slightly dazed. Bren could tell her breasts were larger than average and her legs long and shapely since her blouse was unbuttoned low enough to expose her hard nipples and her skirt was hiked up to her hips. A short-haired brunette in grubby blue jeans, biker boots, and a sleeveless black T-shirt knelt between her legs, licking her.

  Bren caught a glimpse of a moist pink tongue disappearing into the apex of the creamy thighs and heard soft sucking followed by another throaty moan. Instinctively, she took a step back.

  “Don’t go,” the blonde whispered and even though her words were faint, they held a hint of command.

  Captivated by the tone and the scene, Bren stared as the blonde drove her fingers through the kneeling woman’s short, slick black hair and directed her mouth where she wanted her.

  “Lick me there. That’s right,” the blonde murmured.

  Bren could just make out the line of the bottom’s jaw as she intensified her efforts, alternately sucking and tonguing the blonde. Jae, oh God, it’s Jae, which she couldn’t be, of course, because Jae wasn’t real. At least not to anyone except Brenda. Except—except this woman kneeling on the filthy floor with her hands clasped between her tight denim-sheathed thighs, pleasuring a woman whom Bren was sure was a stranger to her, was exactly as Bren had seen her countless times in her mind’s eye.

  “Ahhh,” the blonde sighed, her eyes on Bren, her thighs trembling. “She has a talented tongue. She’s going to make me come.”

  “I know,” Brenda whispered, her gaze alternating between the blonde’s face and Jae’s mouth devouring her.

  The blonde’s breasts lifted and fell with each panting breath, and her hips writhed restlessly. She stared down at the woman between her legs, and Bren knew she was on the verge of coming.

  “You can masturbate, if you must,” the blonde gasped, and Bren wasn’t certain to whom she was speaking—her or Jae. Keeping her hands by her sides, she watched Jae fumble with her jeans. When Jae shoved a hand into her gaping fly and groaned, Bren turned away. She wouldn’t watch Jae come while making love to another woman. Not unless she dictated it.

  Stumbling outside, Bren blinked at the sudden assault of lingering daylight and struggled for breath. A thin wail followed her and she half-ran down the slope, chased by the ghosts of her own making.

  *

  “How’s it going?” Bren asked when she rejoined Liz, who hadn’t moved since Bren last saw her.

  “They’re tied with two innings to go.” Liz glanced at Bren, then frowned. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “You sure? You look…upset.”

  “No. I’m not. I…” Bren shrugged. “I walked in on two women having a moment in the restroom.”

  “You’re kidding.” Liz laughed. “Although I’m not sure why I’m surprised. You can practically see the pheromones in the air around here. God, I haven’t walked in on a hot make out session since we lived in the dorms. I feel old.”

  “They weren’t making out.” Bren saw Jae on her knees, heard the scene play out, knew just the way Jae’s face would look as she brought herself to orgasm seconds after making the blond stranger come. She ached to write it, capturing the instant when the pleasure made her blind.

  “Bren?”

  “Hmm?” Bren asked, feigning interest in the game being played in front of her rather than in her mind.

  “What were they doing?”

  “Oh. Uh, one of them was going down on the other one.”

  “Well,” Liz said almost reverently. “I’m sorry I missed that. Did you know them? Oh God, it wasn’t Candace was it?”

  Bren laughed. “No, it wasn’t Candace. If it had been, I’d probably still be watching.”

  “Watching what?” Candace said, bumping her hip against Bren’s as she joined them.

  “Bren walked in on a bit of oral sex in the bathroom,” Liz confided.

  “Really?” Candace said with interest. She pivoted, surveying the field. “Where is it?”

  “Never mind,” Bren said, slipping her arm through Candace’s. “I’m sure they’re done by now, and besides, it’s not your kind of place. I think there was mold growing in the cracks on the floor.”

  “Okay, that’s yech. But was it hot?”

  “Yes,” Bren said quietly, remembering Jae’s tight, slender body and the way her mouth moved with such certainty over the blonde’s pumping sex. “She was very hot.”

  “I don’t suppose you got her name?”

  Bren smiled. “No. I didn’t need it.”

  *

  “I never realized I’d find dirty, sweating women such a turn on,” Candace announced as she stood between Liz and Bren on the Angels’ sideline. “I bet Parker plays just as hard in the bedroom as she does out there, too.”

  “Why do I think you’re going to find out?” Liz teased. She barely heard Candace’s laughing reply as Reilly strode up to bat. “Quiet now. The Angels are down a run and this is Reilly’s last at-bat. She’s only managed to get a single off Parker all night.”

  “You talk like a veteran already,” Bren said.

  “Just listening to everyone else,” Liz replied nonchalantly.

  “Uh-huh. And of course, Reilly’s been giving you an instant replay every time she’s come off the field.”

  Liz didn’t answer as Reilly straddled the plate, looking relaxed even though the muscles in her forearms stood out in stark relief as she gripped her bat and angled it over her right shoulder. Her face was a study in concentration as she regarded Parker on the mound going through her elaborate pitching routine—rolling her shoulders, checking the runner at first base with a quick feint throw, squinting at Reilly as if she were an insignificant speck on the horizon.

  “They’re really cute, aren’t they,” Candace murmured. “All bristly and competitive.”

  “Reilly said she played in college, but I think it was a little more than recreational.”

  “Parker told me she had a sports scholarship, too.” Candace chuckled. “While we were partying and picking up girls, they were probably studying their playbooks.”

  “You were picking up girls,” Liz reminded her. “I was doing my fair amount of studying.”

  Parker fired a pitch. Reilly swung and missed.

  “Oh, Parker smoked her,” Candace crowed.

  “Lucky,” Liz muttered.

  “Oh sure. She’s been lucky all night, which is why Reilly’s team only has two runs.”

  “Parker’s team hasn’t done much better.”

  Bren interjected, “You two sound like sports wives. Cut it out, it’s scary.”

  Parker rifl
ed another fastball. Reilly swung and missed.

  “Damn,” Liz exclaimed.

  “I wonder if winning makes Parker horny,” Candace mused. “Whenever I close a big deal, the first thing I want to do is have sex.”

  “She hasn’t won yet,” Liz reminded her.

  “You always want to have sex,” Bren noted.

  “Of course,” Candace went on, “I have to figure out how to get her away from her teammates after the game.”

  “There’s always the bathroom,” Bren said helpfully.

  “Thank you so much,” Candace said. “I had something a little more elegant in mi—”

  Parker’s arm blurred. Reilly swung, her bat slicing the air as her body uncoiled like a snapped spring. A sharp crack split the air, and the ball streaked into deep left field.

  “Yes!” Liz cried. “Go, Reilly!”

  Reilly raced around first and rounded on second base. The runner ahead of her scored. The game was tied. Reilly headed for third. The left fielder caught the ball on the bounce and fired it to third. Reilly slid under the tag. Safe at third.

  “Oh yes,” Liz said. “Reilly is the winning run. All we need is a hit.”

  “I wonder how Parker feels about sex if she loses,” Candace grumbled.

  “Maybe you’ll find out,” Liz replied. “If I don’t strangle you first.”

  Candace laughed. “I never knew you were so competitive.”

  Liz caught herself before she could say there were a lot of things about her that Candace didn’t seem to know. Their ill-fated love affair was a thing of the past, and it surprised her to realize she still harbored some resentment. Maybe it was the recent pain of Julia leaving her, and the realization that once again she had counted on someone to be there for her, and she’d been wrong. Maybe it was her damn hormones. She was edgy and moody and, although she wouldn’t admit it with Candace around, horny. When she didn’t wake up nauseous, she woke up horny. And the smoldering arousal didn’t appear to be limited just to the morning, either. The last week or so she’d found herself thinking about sex in the middle of the day. Another change she definitely didn’t welcome. And watching Reilly all night didn’t help. She had to agree with Candace—dusty, sweaty, adrenaline-charged jocks were definitely hot.

  “Mindless lust,” she muttered. “Like I really need that now.”

  “Anytime is a good time for that,” Bren whispered.

  Liz colored. “Just tell me no one else heard that.”

  “I think you’re safe. There’s too much screaming going on.”

  “Thankfully.” Liz gripped Bren’s arm as the next batter settled in at the plate. “Two outs. Reilly on third. Pray for a hit.”

  Beside her, Candace screamed, “Strike her out, Parker! Come on, baby. Blow one by her.”

  “Candace, honey,” Liz warned. “You might not want to yell that on this side of the field.”

  “You’ll protect me.”

  Liz might want to strangle her, but Candace was right. She loved her. They were friends.

  “All the same,” Liz said, sliding her free arm around Candace’s waist. “Let’s not tempt fate.”

  Parker stared down the batter while Reilly crouched at third, ready to spring as soon as the ball was struck. Liz focused on Reilly, fascinated by her intensity. It was just a game, but Reilly threw herself into it as if it were the most important thing in her life. Liz imagined Reilly was that way about everything, and for just an instant, she allowed herself to envision what it would be like to be the focus of that kind of attention. A restless stirring inside immediately warned her away from such dangerous thoughts.

  The ball rocketed from Parker’s hand. The bat flashed golden in the slanting rays of the evening sun. The batter connected, the ball shot towards second, and Reilly surged toward home plate. Parker dove and intercepted the ball in the infield, then rolled to her knees and fired it toward home.

  “Slide, Reilly, slide,” a dozen voices screamed.

  Reilly hit the dirt just as the catcher snagged the ball and swept her glove across the plate.

  Silence fell over the field, then the umpire waved her arms and shouted, “Safe!”

  Cheers erupted. The Angels had won.

  Liz clapped, caught up in the jubilation as Reilly was swamped by her teammates. Then, Reilly broke free and ran toward her, a huge grin on her face.

  “I think you brought me luck,” Reilly panted.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Liz replied. “You were great.”

  “Thanks.”

  Liz glanced down, then exclaimed, “Reilly, your leg is bleeding.”

  “Huh? Oh—that’s just a little turf burn from sliding. No big deal.”

  “Is that just you being tough, or is it really okay?”

  Reilly smiled. “It’ll be fine when it’s cleaned up.”

  Bren appeared next to Liz. “Great job, Reilly. I thought for sure you’d get tagged at the plate. Nice slide.”

  Liz raised her eyebrows. “Are you a closet softball player, Bren?”

  “I played in high school,” Bren admitted.

  “You think you know your friends…” Liz teased.

  “Well, how much do we ever really know anyone?” Bren smiled at Reilly. “Anyhow, great game.”

  Parker jogged up and clapped Reilly on the shoulder. “Nice running, Danvers.”

  “Nice pitching. Good game. Especially considering the score.”

  “Well, we’ll get a rematch in the playoffs.”

  “Looking forward to it,” Reilly said.

  “Me too,” Parker said before looking to Liz and the others. “So—are you all up for beer and a burger? A bunch of us are heading over to the Elm Street Pub.”

  Liz hesitated. Reilly was probably going to the pub, and she wasn’t certain that spending more time with her was wise. Even though Reilly hadn’t intimated she was interested in her in any way, really, Liz didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. On the other hand, the prospect of spending the rest of the evening at home in her half-empty condo, surrounded by reminders of her most recent failure, was depressing. She turned to Bren and Candace. “What do you say?”

  “I’ve got some work I’ve been putting off,” Bren said. “I think I’ll head home. You can give Candace a ride, right Liz?”

  “I’ll take care of Candace,” Parker said quickly.

  Candace gave Parker a slow once over. “I guess I’m going to the pub, then.” She grasped Liz’s hand. “Come with. It’ll be fun.”

  Liz glanced at Reilly.

  “Come on,” Reilly said with a smile, although her eyes were unexpectedly serious. “You have to help us celebrate whipping the Hammers.”

  “Hey!” Parker protested.

  “Okay,” Liz agreed, deciding there was no harm in a friendly get-together. And after all, there was safety in numbers, and Candace would be there.

  After Liz and Candace hugged Bren goodbye, Candace sidled over to Liz while Reilly and Parker gathered their gear. “Does Reilly know about the baby?”

  “No. Why should she?”

  “If you’re thinking of dating—”

  “I’m not.”

  “Okay. But maybe you should let her know that.”

  “Don’t worry. I will, if I need to,” Liz said irritably. “Sometimes, two lesbians can just be friends, you know.”

  “Uh-huh.” Candace linked her arm through Liz’s. “Then I guess we should go join our friends.”

  “You know, sometimes you’re a real pain in the ass.”

  Candace laughed. “I know, but you still love me.”

  Liz watched Reilly shoulder her equipment bag and tried not to think about friends and lovers and the shifting boundaries that divided them.

  Chapter Seven

  Reilly leaned back in her chair across the rickety scarred wood tabletop from Liz and watched her laugh at something Candace was telling her. Parker had squeezed onto the bench seat next to Candace and Liz, and all the adjoining tables were filled with players, fro
m their teams and others. The baseline noise level in the crowded, dimly lit sports bar was so loud that ordinary conversation was a challenge, and Reilly couldn’t hear the joke. She didn’t mind, though, because being on the edge of the action gave her the opportunity to observe Liz without being obvious about it.

  Ordinarily, she didn’t stay for more than one beer—just long enough to keep Sean and her other teammates from bugging her about never going out. Work and softball and her nights at the dojang were plenty to fill up her time. She didn’t go to parties. Being single was pretty much like having a blinking sign on her back saying “hit on me,” and she got tired of saying no. She got tired of asking herself why she was still saying no, too. Tonight was unusual. Getting a win off the Hammers was always a high, but that wasn’t the only reason she was feeling so good. Liz tilted her head back and laughed again, emphasizing the long, smooth column of her neck, and Reilly was reminded of how deceptively fragile a woman’s body could appear. She imagined if she skimmed her fingertips along the angle of Liz’s jaw and over her throat she’d discover the steely strength of tight muscles beneath satin skin. Her gaze drifted lower to the swell of Liz’s breasts and her hands trembled. Quickly, she lifted her gaze and found Liz staring at her with a half-smile.

  Nonplussed, Reilly drained her beer and only then remembered she had come right from the hospital after spending the entire afternoon reconstructing an open shoulder from a gunshot wound. She hadn’t had time for dinner, and now she had a bit of a buzz on. That probably explained why she felt flushed and just a little bit shaky. Her pulse was racing, too. She looked at the empty bottle clenched in her fist. It was only her second, at least, that’s what she thought. Or had Parker bought another round for the table a while ago? Jesus, it wasn’t like her not to pay attention to what was going on around her.

  “You okay?” Liz asked, leaning across the table. “You looked like you were a million miles away.”

  “Just winding down,” Reilly said as she edged forward to close the distance between them. At least Liz hadn’t said she’d looked like she was undressing Liz in her mind, which she hadn’t been. Not exactly. Although she could still almost feel the hot pebbling of hard nipples against her palms. “Did you enjoy the game?”