by R. A. Padmos
Working in such close proximity, casual touches were unavoidable and Molly loved every single one of them. If the expression on Chiara’s face was anything to go by, she enjoyed it at least as much. They worked so easily together, so effortlessly. Few words were needed when small gestures proved to be equally effective.
“Let’s eat outside,” Molly suggested. “The September sun is gorgeous. And you can smell the sea. Can you see yourself going away from here?”
Chiara ladled the soup into two big bowls. “I can, but I can’t imagine never coming back.”
“My thoughts as well.” Molly took the tea towel with the bread rolls outside. “Can you imagine they’re still not fully cooled? It’s going to be such a perfect meal. Great soup, fresh bread, nice wine and the company of a beautiful woman. I must be in atheist heaven.”
Chiara winked at her. “Here’s looking at you, kid.”
Chapter Seven
They ate in companionable silence. Molly relished the moment. She was fully aware of the savory taste of the bouillabaisse, the crispness of the bread, the slight acidity of the wine, the slight hint of salt in the air, the breeze on her skin, the sound of the waves in the distance and the warmth of the sun. There were no thoughts about the journey that she’d had to take to get where she was and nowhere she had to go. Just the here and now.
Chiara placed her hand on Molly’s arm. “Thank you for finding me.”
“You wanted to be found.”
“I didn’t think I would ever want that again, but yes, it’s true.”
“Join me in the sleeping loft?” Molly invited the woman who was so fast becoming her lover.
* * * *
There was none of the earlier urgency when she undressed Chiara and Chiara undressed her. They both knew what they wanted and they were more than willing to give each other as much pleasure as they were able to, so why the hurry? Why not admire the shape of a shoulder for a moment? Taste a drop of sweat forming at the nape of a neck? Enjoy the strength of the vaginal wall around three fingers while tasting the salty-sweet essence of her lover’s vulva? Why not slip and slide and burst out laughing at the same time when they both recognized the essential silliness of sex?
Molly was half awake when she felt Chiara’s lips against her cheek. “Mmm?”
“Care for a walk on the beach later?”
“Why later?”
“Because I can’t do this to you at the beach and not expect to get into trouble with the law,” Chiara answered and she maneuvered Molly into a position where they could comfortably reach each other’s clits with both mouths and fingers.
Molly gently blew warm air over Chiara’s cunt, then suddenly used the very tip of her index finger to flick over the clitoris until it was swollen with excitement. She kissed the lips and tried to see how far she was able to press her tongue inside. Finally, when she felt that both she and Chiara were ready, she decided for a calm, insistent stroke with her tongue. Much to Molly’s pleasure, Chiara did the same for her.
Molly didn’t expect to come at the same time as Chiara, as concentrating on two equally pleasurable sensations proved to be impossible, but it was what happened.
“That was…” Chiara sighed
“You said it,” Molly agreed.
* * * *
Molly was glad she had brought a sweater to the beach since the wind was getting stronger and soon the sun would disappear into the ocean. She sat close to Chiara on the sand, leaning her head on her lover’s shoulder. They were holding hands as two girls discovering something so special they had yet to find the words for it.
“You are not my first,” Chiara suddenly said. Why these words, so out of the blue?
Molly chuckled, partly because the words sounded somehow funny to her, but also she guessed this wasn’t about what had happened before they’d met. “If I would expect my lover to be a virgin at thirty-five, I might have a bit of a problem with reality. We all have our history. I now know a bit of yours. There’s also more than enough to tell about mine.”
“I mean to say that it’s very unlikely I would have even considered falling for you when she… If she hadn’t died. But I didn’t mean to sound so cruel.”
“Why cruel?”
“As if you’re second choice or a replacement.”
“I wouldn’t have played with the thought of coming between you and her. But do you blame me for giving myself a try now? I’m in love with you and I’m saying this to you plainly. What you do with it is up to you.”
“We already had sex, so I can’t tell you I’m not attracted to you.” Ciara kissed Molly’s cheek. “I’m attracted to you. A lot. In many ways.” She seemed to hesitate.
“Go on,” Molly encouraged her to talk further.
“I don’t want you to live with a ghost.”
“And I don’t want to live without you, unless you tell me you don’t want me.” Molly turned her head toward Chiara and kissed her. “Are you stupid enough to tell me that?”
“You could die too.” Chiara’s voice was soft and filled with fear.
“I will die too. So will you and everybody else.”
“Please don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not, sweetheart, but please don’t take away the possibility of perhaps many years of happiness, yours and mine, because of fear.” Molly knew what she had to say. “She has been part of your past and so she will be part of our future.”
“She was good with people. Without her I wouldn’t have known how to run the…our restaurant. It was such a creative time for me. We were happy.”
“I’m not sure if I’m happy to hear you tell me this because it means you trust me, or if it hurts me because it reminds me of what you have lost.” Now was the time to be honest. “And of what I will never have.”
Chiara looked at her. “You’re not a replacement for her. You are you and that’s all I’ll ever ask of you. If the past two years have taught me anything it is that you can remember the dead, but you can’t live with them. I have dishes to invent and food to cook—please be with me when I do that.”
“One day I might ask you to marry me, and not just because I’m a silly woman who knows nothing better to say when she sees a gorgeous, insanely talented woman. For now, I simply want to be with you. Is it enough?”
Chiara nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Also available from Pride Publishing:
In the Flesh
H.K. Carlton
Excerpt
Chapter One
ATF Agents Kathrin Benson and Mike Pennington sat opposite their shared desk when Special Agent Roger Morrison popped his head into the cubicle. “My office in five.” Without waiting for acknowledgment, he strode down the hall.
Minutes later, they eagerly entered Morrison’s office. Before sitting, the boss hefted an evidence box onto the desk, Travino scrawled across the top.
“Omar ‘Vino’ Travino?” Mike leaned forward and lifted the lid.
“The mob boss?” Kate peered over Mike’s shoulder.
“This is your next assignment.”
A ripple of anxious excitement shot through Kate’s belly.
“This is big. Travino crime-family big.”
He had her attention.
“Read up on the family history. We have little time to prepare.”
“How much time, Cap?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Mike and Kate exchanged glances.
“In a joint-effort task force, several agencies have already been integrated into Travino family businesses. The DEA, Vice Squad, fellow ATF agents, plus Guns and Gangs, all headed up by the Organized Crime Unit. We’re talking long-term investigation. Some undercovers have been in for years. They’ve got people on the inside. I’m talking inner sanctum.”
He pushed another folder toward Kate. “I’m aware you two have been wrapping the Levinson case and it’s difficult to keep up on what’s going on in the real world, but as of this moment, we have two agents unaccounted for.”
A
shiver traveled Kate’s spine. The fear of being made was a real-and-present danger. Were these agents MIA or DOA? With Travino’s history, the latter seemed imminent.
“From all reports, Travino’s about to receive a massive shipping container of drugs, arms, maybe even human cargo between now and next month.”
“There’s some specific intel,” Mike commented, sarcastically.
“It’s all we’ve got.”
“What do you need from us, Cap?” Kate asked.
“We need replacement agents, asap. Travino’s only son has a club called In the Flesh.”
“A…uhhh, gentlemen’s club, I assume?” Kate mused.
“Booze, gambling, strippers—”
“Dancers,” Kate automatically corrected.
Mike snorted.
Without skipping a beat, Morrison continued, “Whatever. Obviously, it’s a front. A perfect set-up for drugs, human trafficking, prostitution and any other nefarious transgression, including tobacco and alcohol offenses. Because of your teamwork on the Levinson case, and your unique talents, the higher-ups are comfortable putting you right back undercover.”
“Unique talents?” Kate repeated, unaware she’d honed any.
“We want you two to get hired on. So, Penn, brush up on your bartending skills.” He tossed a mixology book at Mike.
“And, Benson, I hope you still own diamond-studded thongs and pasties.”
Her cheeks warmed and her stomach tightened. “Oh, no.” She raised her index finger. “No fucking way.”
The delight in Mike’s expression made her want to punch him in the face.
“Shut up,” she warned before he could make some crack. “I’ll do anything but that.”
“Get hired! If you need to use your background in…dance, so be it.”
Kate rolled her eyes. She wasn’t ashamed of her past. But the guys would razz her unmercifully. She busted her butt to prove she was as good as her male counterparts. This would destroy any respect she’d gained.
“This is short term. The shitwork’s already been done. Now, In the Flesh has a principal dancer who packs the joint. I hear, from some very reliable sources, her act is phenomenal.”
Mike’s eyebrows rose.
“She really gets the crowd going. She’s also in charge of the other dancers and is very particular about who she hires.”
“Travino’s okay with that?” Mike asked.
“Tavis Travino and this girl are close. He lets her do what she pleases. And it’s working. Business is booming.”
“How much does Omar have to do with Tavis’ business?” Kate inquired.
“Generally, not a lot. They’re trying to make this place seem legit. Vino knows we’re watching his joints so we think the club is where the goods will be stored.”
Morrison handed them résumés under their new aliases, along with a separate folder containing respective background stories. “Get familiar with these. We don’t need any fuck-ups. This is dangerous. Our missing agents disappeared from that club.”
“Yes, sir.” Mike nodded.
Kate scanned her new identity. “Ugh, I’m blonde again.”
“Don’t complain, ginger. I’m bald again. Wanna switch?” Mike ran his hand over stubbly hair, just grown back in.
“Not sure I could pull it off as well as you.”
Morrison ignored them. “You’ll find everything we have on the Travino family in your inboxes.”
“Everything?” Mike questioned.
Morrison bristled. “You have everything I’m privy to.”
Small reassurance. Two agents were missing. It didn’t get more serious than that.
“You said there are several agencies at work here. People embedded. How are we supposed to discern the good guys from the bad if we don’t have cooperation from all branches?”
“That’s so the right hand doesn’t know what the left is doing.” Kate nudged Mike.
“Yeah, and that’s exactly how mistakes are made and innocent people get killed. Whatever happened to full disclosure? Oh, wait, we work for the U.S. government, where transparency is clear as mud. May as well have need to know basis stamped on these.” Mike sent a chart spinning across the desktop. “Even then, we’re only told what they want us to know, not what we need to.”
“Watch it, Pennington,” Morrison cautioned. The two men eyed each other.
“One small hurdle, though,” Kate said, trying to smooth things over. “Families like the Travinos don’t take kindly to outsiders. I don’t think it’ll be easy to simply walk in and fill out an application.”
“That’s where the embedded undercovers come in. They’ll vouch for you. If that’s not enough, if you have to prove yourselves in some way, so be it. The bureau has too much time and manpower invested to let this implode now. Now get to work.”
Kate gathered the folders and Mike hefted several boxes.
Back in their cubicle, they enthusiastically dove into mounds of information.
“Wow, this guy’s a real bastard,” Kate said.
“That’s too nice a word.”
“You know what’s weird, though?” Kate fanned herself with an empty folder. “Tavis has no record whatsoever. He’s squeaky clean. No arrests. Not even a speeding ticket.”
“Must take after his mother.” Mike spread out a series of surveillance photos. “Here’s some key players.” Kate took her time, memorizing faces and noticeable features. Mike paused, staring at a photograph extensively before passing it along.
The moment Kate glanced at it, she realized why. “This has to be the head dancer.” Kate eyed the gorgeous blonde.
“She goes by Carly.” Mike passed another stack.
“Did you notice she looks different in every one? Always a different hair color and style.”
“Here are some more of her, if you want to drool over these, too.”
“Drool?” She leafed through them.
“You haven’t taken your eyes off that photo since I handed it over.”
“She’s bangin’, right?”
“Indeed she is. But if she’s as close to Tavis as Morrison said, we’re probably going to have to take her down, too.”
“I’d like to take her down,” Kate mumbled.
Mike grinned and closed his folder. “Shall we call it a day?”
Adding her file to his, Kate stood. Pulling on her jacket, she studied the lovely Carly again.
“What say we go out tonight? We can decompress before diving into this new venture.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’ll take you dancing.”
She didn’t like the gleam in his eye.
“See if you’ve still got the moves.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much.”
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About the Author
In no particular order: woman, writer, in a relationship with my wife since 1981 (though we had to wait until 2001 until we could actually get married), mother of two grown sons, owner of cats (I can pretend, can’t I?), reader and a lot more.
I write in different genres under different names. I’m also S.Dora for my M/M erotic romance and Ella Laurance for my M/F erotic romance.
Email: [email protected]
R.A. Padmos loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.pride-publishing.com.
Also by R.A. Padmos
Unspoken
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