by Radclyffe
“I’m sure my mother would be delighted to watch Reggie all day, every day,” Reese said quietly, leaning back against the waist-high breakfast counter and regarding Tory solemnly. “But you’re not thinking about trying to handle the clinic yourself, are you?”
“I know it’s soon, but babies younger than Reggie go to day care without any problems—”
“Tor. I’m not talking about Reggie. I’m talking about you.” Reese crossed the room and lifted her free hand to Tory’s cheek, trailing her fingers into the thick hair at the back of Tory’s neck. “You’ve lost weight, you still tire easily, and—”
Tory turned her head and pressed her lips to Reese’s palm, then wrapped her arm around Reese’s waist. “I know. But I’m feeling much better every day.”
Reese kissed Tory softly. “Let’s wait and see what happens with the ads.”
“All right,” Tory relented, not wanting to worry Reese any further. She returned the kiss swiftly and forced a smile. “I’m sure something will work out.”
“Me, too.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Be careful,” Reese called as Tory gathered her things and started out the door. She tried hard to keep the frustration from her voice, because she knew how seriously Tory took her responsibilities to the community. Still, the only thing that mattered to Reese was that Tory, and now Reggie, were safe and healthy. Provincetown will just have to get along without a full-time doctor if Tory can’t find a replacement.
*
Tory walked into the busy waiting room at her clinic and felt instantly at home. Two months away, and despite the daily joy of her new daughter, she was starting to seriously miss her medical practice. Randy Schuyler—svelte, blond, and almost too pretty to be a man—looked up from behind the reception counter, a single frown line marring his otherwise flawless forehead. Beautiful long lashes that made many a woman weep lowered over his liquid brown eyes as he fixed her with a steely stare. “Go away. You’re on maternity leave, and Dan is far too busy to talk to you.”
“Hi, sweetie,” Tory said brightly in passing. She edged around the counter, sidling between the chairs crowded into every inch of floor space. I’m going to need to put on an addition at this rate.
“Tory,” Randy said, a pleading note in his voice now. “Look at the waiting room.”
She didn’t need to. Her practiced eye had already taken in the more than half dozen adults and children waiting to be seen. She stopped and picked up the top chart in the pile by Randy’s left hand.
“Martha?” Tory called.
“Hello, Dr. King,” an elderly woman responded from a seat in the corner. “How are you, dear?”
“I’m wonderful. Come on back, and let’s see how your blood pressure is doing.”
An hour and fifteen minutes later, she’d seen six patients and was sitting behind her desk charting when Dan Riley walked in. Tory smiled. “Hi. Let me just finish this note, and I’ll get out of your way.”
Dan, a solidly built forty-year-old with curly hair just beginning to gray, rimless glasses, and an angelic face, shook his head and flopped into one of the two chairs. “No problem. It’s your desk, after all.”
“How’s it going?” She hadn’t seen him for several days, and he looked thinner than she recalled. Certainly the circles under his eyes were darker. “How’s your wife’s dad?”
“He’s holding his own, but I think it’s going to be a long haul.”
“Listen, Dan, I know it’s hard for both you and your wife with you not being there. As soon as—”
“Ruth understands,” Dan said swiftly. “She knows I can’t just leave without someone to cover for me. I’ve talked to all my father-in-law’s doctors about his treatment, and I check in a couple times a day to make sure his condition hasn’t changed.”
“It’s still not the same as being there.” Tory made a decision, the one she should’ve made eight days earlier when Dan’s father-in-law suffered an intracranial hemorrhage from a ruptured aneurysm. “If I don’t have someone to replace you in a day or two, I’ll take over myself so that you can join her. I’m sure the entire family will feel better if you’re there in person to handle things.”
“I thought your obstetrician said you couldn’t go back to work for a full three months after your delivery.”
“It’s been two—and I’m doing fine.” In truth, it would be difficult, because she still couldn’t make it through the entire day without a nap in the afternoon. Nevertheless, she could split up the patients between morning and evening hours if she needed to take a break in the middle of the day. At least her leg had improved to the point where she no longer used her cane and only occasionally fell back on the lightweight ankle cast for support. The muscles in her damaged calf would never regenerate, but with steady, persistent training she’d regained enough strength in the surrounding musculature to support her damaged ankle without the heavy, hinged metal brace. Standing all day wouldn’t be as difficult as it had been in the years just after her accident. “I can handle it, especially now that the season is almost over.”
Dan looked skeptical. “Most of the patients I’m seeing every day are regulars. This isn’t a very big town, but you’re the main primary care doctor. The patient load’s not going to get that much lighter, even without the tourists.”
“I’ll manage,” Tory said firmly. She glanced at her watch. “I need to get home so Reese can get to class. Tell your wife that Saturday morning, you’ll be on your way to Pittsburgh.”
“It’s Labor Day weekend! I can’t leave you then.”
Tory simply shook her head. “I mean it, Dan. It’s time for you to go home.” And for me to come back to work.
*
Reese tied the belt of her hakama over her gi, bowed to the kamiza—the ceremonial altar which consisted of a simple shelf of hand-carved wood on which stood a small vase of dried wildflowers—and stepped barefoot onto the tatami mats that covered three quarters of the main floor in the Provincetown Martial Arts Center, the dojo that she ran out of a converted garage on the far east end of Bradford Street. Her senior student was already present, sitting on the far end of the mat in seiza—knees bent, weight back on her heels, hands resting palms down on her thighs. Bri Parker’s eyes were closed as she readied herself for training. Reese crossed quickly to the center of the room and assumed the same position, facing Bri and the other students who were beginning to line up silently side by side. Reese also closed her eyes, cleared her mind, and slowed her breathing until she was in a state of relaxed readiness. Her mind and body were united, and from that place of harmony, she was prepared to do battle.
Expelling her breath slowly, Reese opened her eyes, bent her forehead to the mat between her steepled hands, and greeted her class in Japanese. The ten students returned her bow and her greeting, and for the next hour, the men and women trained in the art of jujitsu. Reese moved silently between the partners, observing and occasionally stepping in to demonstrate a technique before moving off again. Her classes were traditional in the sense that the students learned by performing and by watching Reese and Bri. Before Tory’s pregnancy had become too advanced, she’d been one of the senior students, although her formal training had been in hapkido, a Korean style similar to the Japanese martial art of aikido. All three styles, however, bore similarities in their use of joint locks, shoulder throws, and defensive blocks and kicks.
After Reese dismissed the class, Bri approached and waited a few feet away. Other than the fact that Reese was an inch taller and thirty pounds of muscle heavier, they were so close in appearance, with the same thick black hair and cobalt blue eyes, that strangers often mistook Bri for Reese’s younger sister. Reese removed her hakama and held it out to Bri. “Thank you.”
“It is an honor, sensei,” Bri replied as she always did, for it was customary for the senior student to fold the sensei’s ceremonial outer garment.
Reese nodded in acknowledgment and glanced toward the door, where a peti
te brunette with whiskey-colored eyes waited, her gaze focused intently on Bri. Allie Tremont was Reese’s newest student as well as the newest member of the sheriff’s department, having just transferred from nearby Wellfleet. The look of unguarded appreciation on Allie’s face took Reese by surprise. Surely Allie knew that Bri was involved. Reese turned at the sound of Bri’s voice.
“Here you are, sensei.”
Reese took the folded garment, and the two women walked together to the end of the mat, bowed, and then stepped off.
“The second Sunday in October,” Reese said. “I’ve asked a test board to convene for your black belt test.”
“I...oh wow...I...” Bri’s voice caught and she swallowed. “Yes, sensei. Thank you.”
For the first time, Reese smiled. “No need for thanks.”
“Oh, man. Wait until I tell Carre.” Then, remembering that telling her lover about one of the biggest events in her life was the only way that she would be able to share it with her, a cloud passed across Bri’s face and the light in her eyes dimmed.
“I’m sure she’s going to think it’s great,” Reese said as she clapped Bri on the shoulder.
“Yeah. She will.” Subdued, Bri looked over to where Allie still waited and forced a smile. “Hey,” she said as she started toward the brunette, “guess what?”
Reese waited for them to change and followed them to the door. As she locked up, she watched Allie climb onto the back of Bri’s motorcycle and wrap her arms around the rangy youth’s midsection. A few seconds later, Bri gunned the motorcycle down the driveway and onto the road with Allie pressed tightly to her back.
“Perfect,” Reese muttered to herself as she walked toward her Blazer.
Chapter Two
Bri and Allie left class together today,” Reese announced as she stripped down in the bedroom in preparation for a shower.
“Hmm?” Tory, who’d just fed the baby and put her down for a nap, sat on the side of the bed buttoning an oversized man’s shirt—the only thing she happened to be wearing. Finished, she looked up in time to see Reese, who hadn’t bothered to pull on underwear after changing out of her gi at the dojo, kick out of her jeans. Tory caught her breath, ambushed by the unexpected sight. Whereas her own body, even at the peak of conditioning, rarely looked more than sleekly toned, Reese’s was a study in richly sculpted muscle. How many times have I seen her this way? A thousand? How many times have I touched her? Too many to count. And still she makes my heart stop.
“Your shift starts at four?” Tory’s question was casual but her voice was husky and low. The stirring in her belly was welcome after the long abstinence. They had been carefully intimate a few times since Reggie was born, at least to the extent that Tory was able to caress Reese to a gentle climax or hold her while she brought herself to orgasm. But Tory had been so exhausted from the difficult labor and subsequent surgery and then the demands of a hungry newborn that her own sexual satisfaction hadn’t been high on her list of needs. Suddenly, it was. Out of nowhere, desire flared, hungry and hot—not the slow ignition of simmering coals that she might have expected after such a long period of quiescence, but a full-force blast of heat that left her instantly wet and craving Reese’s touch. “You’ve got a while yet before you have to leave for the station, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Reese glanced over and stopped in midmotion. A faint flush rose on her chest when she registered the look on her lover’s face. “Tory, come on.” Her voice held a hint of both warning and plea.
“I’ve missed you touching me.”
“I’ve missed you, too—like crazy.” Reese’s eyes darkened with the need she had no desire or ability to hide. She crossed the room quickly, knelt in front of Tory, and rested both hands on Tory’s thighs. The tail of the loose cotton shirt brushed the backs of her hands, gentle as a kiss. “But Wendy said—”
“Wendy said,” Tory repeated firmly as she cupped Reese’s breasts and leaned to kiss her, “that I couldn’t have vaginal intercourse for eight weeks. She didn’t say I couldn’t come.” She found Reese’s mouth just as she closed her fingers around the small, erect nipples. As she slid the tip of her tongue teasingly over Reese’s lips, she tugged her nipples to the same tantalizing rhythm.
Groaning, Reese surged against Tory’s body, pressing her breasts hard into Tory’s palms. She smoothed her hands under the shirt, her thumbs stroking the insides of Tory’s thighs.
Tory lifted her mouth away, murmuring throatily, “Oh yes. I’m not the only one who misses it, am I, baby?”
“You know how much it excites me when you touch me.” Reese’s blue eyes had gone nearly black, her breathing reduced to short, swift gasps. Having the baby in their life was a miracle, but it was Tory she lived for. Tory who defined her existence, Tory who gave purpose to her days. “I’m most alive when you have your hands on me. I love it when you make me come.”
“I haven’t been doing enough of that lately, that’s for sure.” Tory stretched out on the bed, grasped Reese’s hand, and drew her down, too. Then she turned on her side and edged a knee between Reese’s thighs. “Going from every other day to once every couple of weeks is a big change.”
Reese laughed softly, insinuating her fingers beneath Tory’s shirt again to stroke her back. “We’ve both been pretty busy with Reggie, and you are recovering from surgery. I haven’t felt neglected in that regard.”
“Neither have I, really,” Tory murmured, trailing her fingers along Reese’s thigh. “Until today.”
“Mmm. I’m not complaining.” Reese caught Tory’s lower lip in her teeth, bit gently. “These are extraordinary circumstances.” She touched her tongue to the spot that she had just nipped. “But I miss touching you. I miss hearing you, feeling you come.”
Moaning softly, Tory smoothed her hand down Reese’s flank and over her hips. “I’m so ready to come for you now.”
Whatever protest Reese might have made was lost on a moan as Tory slid a hand between her legs and squeezed gently. Tory whispered, “Let me come for you, baby.” She squeezed again. “Let me come with you. You want to, don’t you?”
“Oh yes. Yes.” Reese’s vision was hazy, her stomach in knots. Tory. Touching her, loving her. Tory. Needing her, wanting her. “Oh, Tory.”
“It’s okay, baby,” Tory soothed, pressing her fingers into the waiting wetness.
“Don’t touch me yet,” Reese warned breathlessly. “You know I’m no good at holding back. Let me make you feel good for a while first.”
“Good?” Tory’s laugh was shaky. “It can’t get any better. God, I’m so ready now I could burst.”
“Just wait.” Ignoring the steady surge of blood pulsing through her depths and the almost painful need to push into Tory’s palm, to rub against the fingers that she knew could have her rocketing to orgasm in a matter of seconds, Reese rested her forehead against Tory’s and anchored herself in her lover’s eyes. Watching Tory’s eyes grow cloudy with pleasure, she caressed her breasts, swollen and heavy, and squeezed the dark, full nipples. She thrilled to Tory’s soft cry as she smoothed her fingers down the center of her abdomen, still gently rounded with the memory of pregnancy. Tory’s fingers twitched against her clitoris, and she struggled not to come. “Careful,” she whispered urgently.
“Oh God,” Tory sighed, “I love to feel you like this, so hard, so ready for me.” The feel of Reese’s pleasure, hot and wet against her fingertips, made her body soar. “It’s been so long. I need you now, baby. Please don’t make me wait.” Her hips bucked as Reese fondled her. “Oh, I want to come.”
Reese brought her mouth to Tory’s and kissed her deeply, stroking tongue to tongue as her fingers swept up and down the length of Tory’s clitoris, circling harder with each long caress. Tory, caught by surprise by the swift rise of her orgasm, closed her fingers convulsively around Reese, jerking her clitoris spasmodically as her own climax peaked. With a cry, Reese flooded Tory’s hand with her passion.
“Oh my God,” Reese murmured, staring at th
e ceiling as she waited for her limbs to make their way back to her body. Tory curled against her side, her head on Reese’s shoulder, making small, contented sounds of happiness. Reese threaded shaking fingers through Tory’s hair and caressed the back of her neck. “How is it...that I never remember just how wonderful it is making love with you?”
“It’s some kind of protective biologic mechanism,” Tory advised sleepily. “Like labor. If women had clear memories of giving birth, they’d only do it once.” She rubbed her hand over Reese’s stomach, then indolently rested her fingers between Reese’s legs—not to arouse, merely to possess. “And if we really thought about how great making love was, we’d probably never get out of bed. We’d lose our jobs, end up on the streets, and our children would starve.”
“If you don’t move your hand,” Reese growled halfheartedly, “my job is going to be in jeopardy. I’ve got twenty-five minutes before my shift starts, and I still have to shower.”
Tory merely burrowed closer and flung her leg over Reese’s thighs. “Tell me after all those years in the Marines that you can’t be ready in five minutes.”
Reese caught Tory’s hand before she really did forget what she needed to do. “Rolling out of the rack is a little bit different than this.”
“Mmm, I should hope so.” Lazily, Tory nuzzled Reese’s shoulder and bit down on the firm muscle, eliciting a groan that was more pleasure than pain. Then, relenting, she rolled away. “All right. Go now. I won’t be responsible for my actions otherwise.”
With a sigh, Reese swung her legs over the side of the bed, stood, and headed for the bathroom. As she reached in to turn on the shower, she heard Tory behind her in the doorway. She looked over her shoulder at her naked lover. Tory’s face was soft with the aftermath of their lovemaking, her body lush with motherhood. Reese’s stomach clenched and another flood of wanting coursed through her. “Tor. For God’s sake. Give me a break here.”