by Lynette Mae
“So, if the cast comes off in five weeks, then I can get back to work?”
Doctor Sullivan closed the chart and sighed. “I said five or six weeks. We’ll see how it goes. I want to make certain that break is healed properly, given the past injury to your leg. The resulting scar tissue from the bullet wound has already weakened that leg. Also, we’ll have to see whether your knee was affected. I don’t want to rush anything. No promises on recovery time.”
He directed the next comment to Jessie. “Try to convince her to take it easy and give her body the proper time to heal.”
Devon had seen Jessie react to the mention of the bullet wound and squeezed her hand.
The doctor said, “I guess we can get you checked out in a couple of hours.”
Devon groaned. “Hours? Doc, you’re killing me.”
“Keep it up and I’ll change my mind,” he warned her.
“Sorry, Doc, I meant to say thank you so much. You’re the best.” Devon tried to sound as contrite as possible.
“They’ll be in with your paperwork shortly and some instructions for your release. I want to see you for a follow-up visit at my office next week, okay?” He headed for the door.
“Yes, sir,” Devon said as he exited. A wide grin split her face. Home was closer every minute. “That’s great news, huh, Jess?”
“Yes.” Jessie curled up beside Devon on the bed and softly stroked her hair.
“You know that’s my weakness.” Devon closed her eyes and sank into the comfort. Jessie lightly kissed her temple and hummed softly. Devon drifted blissfully. Maybe she could rest a little after all.
Jessie whispered against her cheek, “Sleep. The doctor said a couple of hours. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
SOMETIME AROUND THREE o’clock Jessie guided Devon carefully inside the house. She held the screen door open with her foot, allowing Devon to maneuver her casted left leg over the threshold.
“Are you hungry?” Jessie asked.
“A little.”
Devon looked around, taking in the welcome sight of home. She was pleased to notice that Jessie had undoubtedly spent some time at the house. Several vases of fresh flowers were new additions to the decor, bathing the living room in a sweet aroma. Her eyes roamed over the framed photos, neatly stacked magazines, and a few candles that adorned the mantel and coffee table. Devon disliked clutter and considered knick-knacks intrusions that disturbed clean lines and the simple beauty of the wood, but the candles looked nice.
Leaning on one crutch, she plucked a picture of her sister and nephews from the mantle. Devon had taken the picture the previous summer when Leigh and the boys went to the beach for a vacation. She and her nephews had spent the day building sand castles and chasing each other in the surf, indulging in complete relaxation that was a rarity for Devon. Later, they posed at the ice cream shop, leaning in so that the boys’ little faces framed Leigh’s face, and they all giggled at a shared joke. She smiled at the memory and replaced the frame.
“Remind me to call my sister later?”
“Sure,” Jessie said. “I talked to her yesterday. She called when I was, umm, doing a few things here. She’s really nice.” Jessie still held the bag with Devon’s personal belongings. “Where do you want this stuff?”
“Just drop it in there.” She pointed in the direction of the master bedroom. “I’ll sort it out later. Thanks.”
“No problem.”
Devon made her way over to a vase of fresh coral-colored roses and inhaled deeply, remembering childhood walks with her grandmother in the rose garden behind her house.
Jessie moved behind her, placing her hands gently on Devon’s waist. “Do you like the flowers? Leigh told me you loved roses.”
Devon leaned back into her, loving the feel of Jessie’s body against hers. “Mmm, yes. They’re beautiful.”
“Not as beautiful as you.” Jessie breathed the words into Devon’s ear.
“Oh, yeah, that’s me.” Devon rolled her eyes and pointed to the stitches in her forehead. She thought about the bruises still visible everywhere. “If you’re attracted to bride of Frankenstein.”
“Stop that.” Jessie kissed the tip of Devon’s ear and slipped her arms around Devon’s waist. “You are more beautiful than you will ever know.”
“You sure you’re not the one who took a whack to the skull?” The question earned her a swat on the backside, which only made her grin.
Jessie fixed sandwiches and a fruit salad for a late lunch. “Wow,” Devon said appreciatively. “Thanks, but I know the stuff I had in the fridge must have gone bad.” She took a generous bite of her sandwich and raised an eyebrow at Jessie.
“It’s possible that I might have run by the grocery store yesterday after I left the hospital.”
“This is outstanding. What’s on the sandwich?”
“My special homemade sauce. Dijon mustard-mayo-lime juice with a little garlic and chipotle blend that I like.”
“It’s fantastic, thank you,” Devon said around bites that awakened her taste buds following days of bland hospital food.
“My pleasure.”
Devon could see Jessie thinking, as if she were wondering what to say or how to say it. Finally she said, “I’ve been wondering about something the doctor said. When did you get shot? People at the department love to tell stories. I heard all about the shooting you were involved in a couple months back. All of us rookies were transfixed by your performance that night. But nobody’s ever said anything about you getting shot.”
“It happened when I was in Beirut.” Devon felt her natural defenses trying to close around her, but Jessie’s compassion was soothing and she relaxed.
“How?”
“It was the day of the marine barracks bombing in eighty-three. Mac and I were sent to get supplies and we ran into resistance fighters along the way. I got hit in the arm and leg. I was lucky. We were able to fight them off and Mac got me back to the medics. She saved my life.”
Without warning the memory of lifting Alex’s body into the Jeep came into sharp focus in her mind. She blinked back stinging tears, frustrated with herself for her inability to maintain her composure.
Jessie covered Devon’s hand with her own.
“I lost someone very close to me that day,” Devon finished quietly.
Jessie’s expression fluctuated from shock to admiration to compassion. “Sounds like a nightmare. No wonder you and Mac are so close.” She rubbed her thumb back and forth across the back of Devon’s hand, now thoughtful. “That also explains why you seem so wise beyond your years. You’ve lived through things most people can’t even imagine. I get the feeling you don’t talk about that very often.”
“No, I don’t. I try not to think about it, mostly.” Devon swallowed hard, fighting new tears.
“Thank you for telling me.” Jessie placed her palm on Devon’s cheek.
Devon feared a response would release the flood of emotions she felt pushing to the surface, so she pressed her hand over Jessie’s and stared into her eyes, finding a peaceful respite from the torment of her memories. She marveled at the ease with which Jessie effortlessly slipped past all of her internal defenses. Jessie instinctively understood her in a way that no one else ever had. Nothing was beyond her reach, and everything Jessie touched, she healed.
Jessie traced Devon’s eyebrows with her thumb. “Thank you for understanding,” Devon said. She closed her eyes and Jessie kissed her forehead.
They sat quietly for a few minutes, and then Devon asked, “So, Honeycutt has disappeared?”
“It looks that way.” Jessie grew obviously frustrated. “I’ve taken a few trips out to the duplex where we arrested him. No sign of him. All we know for sure is the recovered car is the one that hit you. Hair and blood samples from the hood are yours.” She shuddered.
“It’s okay.” Devon reached out to cup Jessie’s cheek and ran her thumb along Jessie’s cheekbone. “I still owe him for punching you during that arrest.”
Devon couldn’t keep the venom out of her voice as she thought of the bastard hurting Jessie.
“Detective Sinclair placed an active pickup for him. He needs to answer for running you down.”
“He will.” Knowing that her team and her friends were going after Honeycutt was heartening and frustrating at the same time. “You don’t know how badly I wanted to be on that entry team the other day.”
“I’m glad you weren’t. As a victim of his, how could you be objective?”
“Oh, believe me, I’m not thinking about what he did to me.” Devon’s expression darkened. “He’s gotta pay for hurting you. Anyway, they came up empty, so the game’s still on.”
“Tell me about his connection to you. You said his father was investigating you when you were in the service?”
“Yeah. His dad was in criminal investigations. He was on his own personal crusade to rid the army of lesbians and gays, I guess. My first lover was forced out and then he focused on me. When I got back from Beirut, he was on my tail again. Back then there was no Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell policy. They didn’t need any statements or admissions. Just the fact that you were talking to someone who they suspected of being a lesbian was good enough for someone like Honeycutt. Like I told you, I was arrested, but I was lucky enough to have some help. My ex-commander, a couple of NCOs who were MPs, and of course, Mac.” She grinned.
“What happened to her?”
“Who?”
“Your girlfriend.”
Devon pulled in a deep breath. “After she left the army, I never heard from her again—until recently. Damndest thing. She was one of the instructors at the SWAT school.”
“Really?” Jessie’s expression tightened. “You never said anything.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” She watched Jessie, trying to figure out how to explain. For the second time since SWAT school, she felt like an ass for not coming clean about Jillian. She brightened at the realization that the answer was simple, really. Devon wanted Jessie. Nothing else mattered and she had to make that clear. “Her name is Jillian, and it shocked us both to run into each other. The reunion was kind of crazy, but no sparks rekindled, Jess.” When Jessie didn’t respond, Devon said, “Would it make you feel better to know that she’s dating Mac?”
Jessie gave her a puzzled look. “What? Does Mac know who she is?”
“She didn’t before the school, but she does now. I know it’s kind of crazy, but it really has nothing to do with you and me.” She dipped her head to catch Jessie’s eye. “I didn’t want to say anything because I wanted to concentrate on getting to know you. Talking about my ex probably wasn’t the best topic for our first date.” She was pleased when the corner of Jessie’s mouth quirked upward. Devon leaned forward until her face was inches from Jessie’s. “I didn’t want my past to screw up the present. Since then, honestly, you have completely captivated me.” She closed the remaining inches to kiss Jessie thoroughly. Jessie pushed her fingers into Devon’s hair. As the kiss deepened, Devon felt her arousal flare. She pulled Jessie onto her lap, working her way down Jessie’s throat with her mouth.
“I could kiss you forever,” she said against Jessie’s skin.
Jessie placed a hand on her chest and eased back, her eyes flaming emeralds that held Devon transfixed. Her stomach flipped when Jessie said, “I’d let you.” Jessie gave her another mind-blowing kiss that turned Devon’s insides to liquid.
Finally, Jessie pulled away and stood. “We have to stop. You need to rest, and I need to get a grip on myself.”
“But—” Devon tried to pull her back.
“C’mon.” Jessie took Devon’s hand and led her into the bedroom.
Devon didn’t want to admit that a nap sounded good, although making out with Jessie sounded better.
Between the cast and her sore ribs, it was like a wrestling match getting her out of her clothes. Jessie suggested that they forgo any sleeping attire for now and Devon gratefully slid into the cool sheets. Jessie lit candles and pulled down the shade to block out the sunlight, before adjusting the air conditioner for maximum sleeping comfort. Devon relaxed in the warmth of her own bed as Jessie softly stroked her hair. She struggled to stay awake, wanting to feel every wonderful moment that Jessie touched her, but soon she was lulled into sleep.
The aroma of baked chicken and fresh bread coaxed Devon from her slumber hours later, and her stomach growled noisily. She lay contemplating the peacefulness of her surroundings. The heavenly scent emanating from her kitchen reminded her that she was not alone. Her heart skipped a beat, her mind conjuring a welcome image of the gorgeous woman on the other side of the house preparing what smelled like a tantalizing meal. With Jessie under her roof, Devon could only grin to herself, allowing the sensations of warmth and genuine comfort to flow through her body. A thought popped into her head: Could Jessie make a home with me? Devon closed her eyes, wrapping her mind around that thought. She’d been lonely for so long.
She drifted back to sleep wondering if Jessie was too good to be true.
Still in a semi-conscious dream state, she sensed Jessie’s presence. Quietly, Jessie crossed the room, making her way around the bed, where she carefully crawled in beside Devon. She felt Jessie’s gaze upon her and fought the urge to open her eyes. The air conditioner kicked on, sending a shot of cold air across the bed, and immediately her exposed skin prickled, her nipples tightening. Jessie inhaled deeply. Devon felt the heat of Jessie’s body along her side, smelled Jessie’s perfume, and her pulse kicked up a notch in response. Jessie lightly caressed the bare skin of Devon’s shoulder and down her arm.
Devon concentrated on remaining still. Jessie’s touch slowed to trace the scar that ran from Devon’s left shoulder back along her triceps, marking the path of the insurgent’s bullet in Beirut. She stopped there, rubbing her fingers lightly on the area, as if wanting to memorize its texture. Normally, Devon was self-conscious about her scars, but somehow Jessie’s touch was universally soothing and she floated in the sensation. Jessie drew a path across her shoulder towards her breast, detouring briefly to draw circles around Devon’s nipple that rapidly stiffened.
Slowly awakening beneath Jessie’s touch, Devon smiled, feeling the caresses firing every synapse in her body. Her blood hummed through her veins and her heartbeat sounded like thunder in her ears. Loving the feel of Jessie’s hands on her skin, she kept her eyes closed, reveling in the sensation.
She slid her hand under Jessie’s t-shirt to stroke the softness of her skin. Jessie sighed a soft satisfied sound and leaned into her touch. Devon opened her eyes and gazed at her dreams made real.
“Hello, there,” Jessie purred seductively. She kissed the corner of Devon’s mouth and resumed the teasing strokes across Devon’s chest.
“Beautiful,” Devon breathed, insinuating her hand further beneath the fabric of Jessie’s shirt to catch the tip of Jessie’s nipple between her fingers. Jessie sucked in a short breath in response, and a tingle danced along Devon’s spine.
Jessie, with the advantage of mobility, removed her shorts and carefully straddled Devon’s hips. She pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it aside, revealing her firm breasts and flat tanned stomach. Devon’s eyes roamed the length of Jessie’s body, lingering where the small circle of her navel punctuated well-developed abs. A shot of desire pushed through her veins. The need to touch Jessie was overpowering.
“I can’t believe you’re here like this.” Devon reached up and touched Jessie’s cheek, then brushed the pad of her thumb lightly over her bottom lip. She searched Jessie’s face, always captivated by her beauty. “You okay? I know you said—”
In answer, Jessie opened her lips and touched her tongue to Devon’s thumb. Devon’s entire body twitched. Jessie wrapped her lips around Devon’s thumb and sucked it further into her mouth, while Devon stared in fascination. With an alluring smile, Jessie placed a moist kiss on Devon’s palm.
Devon watched Jessie’s gaze drag down the length of her torso to the point wher
e Jessie straddled her hips. When their eyes met again, Devon trembled. The raw desire in Jessie’s eyes reminded her of the sea during a raging storm. She leaned forward and placed her hands on either side of Devon’s head, her lips hovering inches away. Devon started to kiss her tempting mouth but Jessie pulled back.
“Wait,” she whispered. The little quirk at the corner of her mouth was about the sexiest thing Devon had ever seen. Jessie bent to capture a nipple between her lips. Her tongue teased and she nibbled as Devon moaned and drew a shaky breath. She held the back of Jessie’s head, reveling in the pleasure. Jessie sucked harder, igniting a fire in Devon’s center.
After lavishing equal attention on both breasts, Jessie raised up to look at Devon with a wild sexy look that destroyed any thought of restraint. Jessie’s breasts stood proudly before her, and Devon hungrily took one into her mouth, skillfully working the nipple with her tongue until she heard Jessie’s breathing escape in soft gasps. Jessie’s slick wetness coated her stomach serving as a silent invitation that burned through every cell in Devon’s body.
“Please let me touch you.” The quiet reverence in Devon’s voice was like a prayer.
A cry somewhere between a plea and a sob was all Jessie could manage to choke in response. She lifted her hips, offering herself, and Devon did not hesitate.
The sensations of that first touch made Devon’s head spin. Her fingers slid along Jessie’s slick, ready flesh, and Jessie responded by rocking against her hand. Her wetness flowed unchecked, coating Devon’s fingers and pooling in her palm. It was the most glorious feeling Devon had ever experienced.
Jessie’s body was warm and welcoming and so very wonderful that Devon forgot all the reasons why she didn’t deserve this. Why real emotional relationships with depth always meant disaster. Why Jessie deserved better than the mottled heart she had to offer. She watched Jessie’s eyes glaze over with pleasure and ignored the pain in her ribs. The need to make love to Jessie eclipsed any other feeling.