“No,” Erin whispered. “Don’t go.”
Katy dropped her hand to the belt of Erin’s robe and tugged the knot loose. Slipping her hands inside, she grabbed Erin’s hips and walked her backward until the corner of Erin’s desk dug into her back. Without missing a beat, Katy lifted Erin onto the desk and spread open her robe.
“Quickly,” Erin said, so softly she wasn’t sure Katy could even hear the words. “Quiet.”
Nodding, Katy ran both hands over Erin’s breasts. Her fingers were still cold from the sea, and she left Erin’s nipples almost painfully hard. Erin gritted her teeth so she wouldn’t cry out, it felt so good to be touched. Erin gripped Katy’s biceps, shivering when Katy pressed her bare thighs apart.
Erin leaned her forehead on Katy’s shoulder and anticipated the first cool touch on her overheated pussy. Even expecting it, she jerked at the chill of Katy’s hand. Still she craved it. Needed it, more than she had ever needed anything in her life.
Katy’s fingers found her wetness, and Erin tightened her grip on Katy’s arms. She spread her legs as wide as she could, desperate for Katy to go inside. Her heat warmed Katy’s fingers. She needed Katy to fill her, she needed the undeniable proof that Katy was alive. That she was right here.
With one hand on Erin’s hip, Katy slipped a finger into her pussy, then two. Erin let her head fall back, soundlessly parting her lips and wishing like hell that she could moan out loud. The emptiness she always felt when they were forced to be apart on patrol was gone. Erin squeezed Katy’s arms and mouthed, “I love you.”
Katy nodded, curling her fingers to brush the spot that would make Erin come quickly. Erin already mourned the inevitable end of their lovemaking even though she knew they couldn’t take their time—not here, not now. But as soon as Erin gave in to her orgasm, Katy would leave, just as Erin had asked. Erin closed her eyes and concentrated on holding off as long as possible, not wanting to let Katy go.
But Katy followed orders, pumping her fingers hard, just the way Erin loved. The pleasure built rapidly in the pit of Erin’s stomach. Her limbs growing heavier by the second, Erin grasped Katy’s arm as it worked between her thighs, marveling at her strength even when she knew she must be exhausted. She could feel so much love in every stroke, and when Katy’s thumb landed on her clit and circled quickly, Erin was utterly and completely lost.
Head thrown back, she came in a silent roar. Katy wrapped her free arm around Erin’s back in a fierce hug and held her close. Erin could feel Katy’s rapid heartbeat against her bare breasts and she closed her eyes and savored the strong rhythm. Too quickly Katy kissed her cheek, whispered, “I love you,” and withdrew. She walked to the sink on the other side of the room and washed her hands in silence.
Erin slipped off the desk, wobbling on unsteady legs. She pulled her robe closed and tied the belt tightly. Too late for propriety, but she had to pull herself together somehow. She watched Katy dry her hands then turn back to her, professional mask firmly in place.
“Thank you for your time, ma’am.” Katy saluted crisply, then smiled briefly. “I should be getting back to my rack.”
“I was proud of you out there tonight, Ms. Ortiz,” Erin said. In all her worrying, this was the one thing she hadn’t said. It just so happened to be the most important thing. “Well done.”
“I was just doing my job,” Katy said, but her smile grew.
“Doesn’t make me any less proud.” Erin took a deep breath and opened the door, glancing outside to make sure the hallway was empty. Coast clear, she gave Katy a halfhearted smile. “Dismissed.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” With a curt nod, Katy stepped past her into the hall.
Before Katy could walk away, Erin murmured, “Ms. Ortiz?”
Katy turned back. “Ma’am?”
“Thank you for stopping by. I appreciate it.”
After glancing around to confirm they were still alone, Katy grinned. “That was my pleasure, ma’am.”
Clifford Henderson lives and plays in Santa Cruz, California. She runs The Fun Institute, a school of improv and solo performance, with her partner of seventeen years. In their classes and workshops, people of all genders and sexual orientations learn to access and express the myriad of characters itching to get out. When she’s not teaching or performing, she’s writing, gardening, and twisting herself into weird yoga poses. Her first novel, The Middle of Somewhere, was released by Bold Strokes Books in 2009. Her forthcoming novels include Spanking New (2010) and Maye’s Request (2011), from Bold Strokes Books. www.cliffordhenderson.net.
Boiled Peas
Clifford Henderson
Penny’s heart had been trampled so many times she often thought of it as raw hamburger. Or an overripe persimmon pecked to death by birds and then dropped—splat!—from a tree.
True, she was overly sensitive. Or that’s what her mom always said when she came to visit. Which she just had. And although her mom lived 4,915 miles away, her words had a way of sticking around after she left. They’d wrap around Penny like an itchy blanket. “You ask too much. Want too much. Quit looking for the pea, princess.” The pea line was her mom’s favorite.
Penny ripped open the bag of frozen Safeway peas and let them tumble into the boiling water. It was her twenty-fourth birthday and she was celebrating with a bottle of Veuve Clicquot and boiled peas. She wanted to accept her fate. Swallow it down. The too-picky princess who could never be satisfied.
Her cat Screech looked up from his nest of pillows on the couch. He was always interested when she was in the kitchen.
“Believe me, you wouldn’t like this,” Penny said to him, then went back to studying the dancing peas as if they were tea leaves.
It was silly really, to be obsessing over her mother’s words this way. She was twenty-four now. And had a good job as an intern at the Natural History Museum. So why couldn’t she be more confident? Like her friend Kai.
Kai was a sculptor who taught yoga at a local spa to pay the bills and didn’t even want to fall in love. “Why would I want someone to muck up my perfect life?” she’d said to Penny just the other day. But it was different for Kai. Kai enjoyed one-night lovers.
Penny broke up a clump of frozen peas with a spoon while picturing Kai and someone equally flexible contorting themselves into Kama Sutra–like poses, and thought to herself, I could never do that with someone I’d just met.
It took Penny time to trust a person. She needed to feel loved.
She popped the cork on her bottle of Veuve Clicquot and held it over the sink to keep the froth from getting on the floor. What a waste, she thought as she licked the expensive champagne from her fingers. She’d given up a haircut to afford it. Pouring the champagne into one of a pair of etched champagne glasses she’d given as a Valentine’s gift to Phoenix, her last, and longest, love, she thought how sure she’d been that Phoenix and she would be forever. They’d even moved in together.
Then Phoenix’s mentally unbalanced brother showed up and Phoenix told him he could stay until he worked something else out. It was pleasant at first. The three of them would have dinner together, and once they’d all gone to bed, she and Phoenix would talk about how well he seemed to be doing. Then he began to leave raw egg in the pockets of Penny’s jackets. She’d reach in and her fingers would be covered in slime. She asked Phoenix if maybe this wasn’t a bad sign but all Phoenix said was she’d talk to him. When he locked himself out and smashed the plate glass window to gain entry, Penny was almost relieved. Surely now Phoenix would have to ask him to leave. But Phoenix hadn’t seen it that way. “He was locked out, Penny. What was he supposed to do? I’ll talk to his doctor about adjusting his medication.”
“But if he doesn’t take his medication, which he doesn’t, what difference will it make?”
“Give him a chance!” Phoenix yelled back. And so Penny had. Until he came brandishing the sewing scissors at the two of them, at which point Phoenix finally admitted his being around was a problem. But by then it was too
late. Penny’s trust was gone.
Before that there was her second-longest relationship, Mandy, who insisted her Great Dane sleep with them even though the flea-infested giant kept pushing Penny out of bed.
Maybe she did ask too much.
She dipped a spoon into the pot of peas, scooped one up, blew on it, almost placed it on her tongue, then let it plop back into the boiling water. She planned to eat a whole bowlful, every last one. Even if she did despise peas. She needed to accept the truth about herself. She’d never be truly happy. Never.
She took a sip of Veuve Clicquot to wash the pea flavor from her mouth. Happy birthday to me.
There was a knock at the door. She glanced at the clock. No one ever dropped by unannounced. The only apartment she’d been able to afford was too far away from the rest of her friends.
She tucked her pink fluffy robe around her and cinched it in so it wouldn’t accidentally slip open, and went to peer out the peephole. Screech, who’d also been startled by the knock, glared at the door as if by sheer will he could make it go transparent and see through to the other side.
The back of someone’s head was all Penny could see. Someone who had a lovely long black braid. No, two braids. One right on top of the other. Penny set the chain and cracked open the door. “Can I help you?”
The someone with the long black braids turned around, revealing a sassy-looking dyke wearing a low-slung tool belt weighted down by a hammer, tape measure, a few screwdrivers, and a bunch of other tools. In her hand was a toolbox decorated with vintage decals. She was tanned with lean muscles and her mouth tipped up to one side. Her T-shirt said: Girl Scout Gone Bad.
“Sorry it’s so late. But you contacted management about a flickering light?”
Which Penny had. Almost two weeks ago. She scrutinized the woman. How old was she? Penny decided they were about the same age. “Um. Yes I did. I most certainly did. Are you the new handyman—er, woman—they told us about?”
“I guess you could call me that, although I’d prefer if you’d call me Lil. I hope it’s okay I just came over without you returning my call, but—”
“You called?”
“Yeah.”
Penny glanced at her machine. Sure enough, it was blinking. “I must have been in the shower.”
“If it’s more convenient for me to come back…”
“No. No. This is fine.”
“Again, sorry about being so late, but Mrs. Dunbar’s drain in 6B was way clogged. Apparently she washes her Pomeranian in the sink.”
There was a pause in the conversation and Penny realized they were still standing on opposite sides of the door with a chain lock between them. “I guess I should let you in, then.”
“Only if it’s convenient. Like I said in my message. I’ve got a slot on Thursday I could plug you into.”
“Oh please. You’re here. Why don’t you just plug me now—I mean, in! Plug me in!” Blood flooded Penny’s cheeks. “I can’t believe I just said that! I meant, you’re here, we might as well get on with it. You know, fix the light.”
Lil smiled, her leprechaun green eyes flashing mischief, but Penny refused to be moved. She was not about to get sucked into another disappointment. No way.
“My name’s Penny.”
“So what say you let me in, then, Penny?”
Penny thought for a moment, then unlatched the lock. She did need her light fixed. As she opened the door, she became ultra-aware of how she must appear. It was a Friday night and here she was hanging around her apartment in her robe and holding a glass of champagne. Her hair was a mess. “It’s…it’s my birthday and I was kind of…celebrating.”
Lil looked past her. “By yourself?”
Penny nodded toward Screech, who was cleaning his butt. “He may not look it now, but he’s quite the party animal.”
Lil set her toolbox on the floor and crouched down to massage Screech’s chin. “Hey, bud, you gonna help Miss Penny celebrate?” Screech rubbed up against her hand. “He’s a real lover.”
Surprised to see her usually suspicious cat taking to Lil so easily, Penny said, “Yeah, he is.”
After one final stroke down Screech’s back, Lil stood. “So why don’t you show me that light?”
“Oh, right. It’s in the bedroom.”
As Penny led Lil down the hall to the bedroom, she couldn’t stop jabbering. “It’s not that big of a thing, really. I mean, it still turns on. But about a month ago it just sort of started to strobe.” She stepped into the bedroom and switched on the flickering light.
Lil placed her toolbox on the floor and looked up at the light. “I can’t believe it took you two weeks to call. This would annoy the hell out of me.”
“Well, I’d just had a problem with my dishwasher leaking, so it felt funny to call again in the same month.”
Lil flicked the switch on, then off, then on again. “No one should have to put up with a light like this.”
Penny, suddenly overly warm and horribly self-conscious, blurted, “Especially an epileptic,” and then to her horror, began laughing so hard she snorted.
Lil looked away from the light fixture. “Hey, are you all right? You seem kind of keyed up.”
“I’m fine,” Penny said, pinching the top of her nose to regain her composure. “I think it’s this birthday thing. It’s got me kind of…I don’t know…emotional.”
Lil sat on the edge of the bed and began unlacing her boots. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?”
Why was this complete stranger taking off her boots—on her bed? Then Penny realized Lil didn’t want to get the bed dirty when she stood on it. “Twenty-four,” she said, admiring the cleanliness of Lil’s socks.
Lil unscrewed the bulb. “Do you have a new one we could try?”
“In the hall closet,” Penny said and went to retrieve it. She couldn’t stop thinking how considerate it was that Lil had taken off her boots to stand on the bed. Considerate and oddly intimate.
“Here’s a new bulb.”
Lil screwed it in. The flicker was still there. “I’m going to need to turn off your breaker.”
“It’s in the—”
“Closet. I know. It’s the same for all the apartments.”
It was right then Penny smelled the peas. “Crap!”
“What?”
“My peas are probably dead by now.”
“Your peas?”
“Long story,” Penny said as she bolted for the kitchen.
The water was all gone and it stank. She turned off the stove and poked at the bloated peas on top; those underneath were black. She sighed. Of course she’d still eat them, or at least skim a few off the top. She had to. Because while princesses in fairy tales always got their wish and lived happily ever after, those in real life were invariably disappointed. And tonight was about accepting that—fully.
“It’s about to go dark,” Lil called from the hall. “Same breaker for the bedroom and the living room.”
“Do you need me to hold a flashlight for you?”
“Naw. I got a headlamp. You just sit back and enjoy your birthday.”
Penny took the pot of peas and bottle of champagne into the living room. She lit a candle. Screech stepped lightly onto her lap. She scratched behind his ear. “Thanks for coming to my party.”
The sounds of Lil futzing around in the bedroom made her feel secure. She’d always liked people who could fix things.
She drained her glass and poured another, then another. There was no use rushing this concession to her mother. She had all night. And the peas sure weren’t going anywhere. She peered into the pot, scooped out a spoonful of green mush and sniffed it.
A girl like her would never be satisfied. Her mother was right. She asked too much. Was too sensitive. She held the spoonful to her mouth—Might as well—shut her eyes, and prepared to shove the spoonful of disgusting peas into her mouth.
“Just wanted you to know I’m about to turn the breakers back on.”
Penny opened her eyes and was dazzled by the spotlight of Lil’s headlamp. She blinked a couple of times, the spoon suspended in front of her mouth.
“If you don’t mind my asking, what are you doing?” Lil asked.
“Me?”
Lil looked over her shoulder. “Is there anyone else here I should know about?”
Penny let the spoon drop into the pot and blinked back tears. She was buzzed, no two ways about it. “Nothing. I was just about to eat my fate.”
“Is that what’s so stinky?”
“You’ve no idea,” Penny said. Then something about being in the spotlight while seriously smashed on champagne uncorked Penny’s bottled-up fears, and before she knew it she was spilling out all over the place, telling Lil about never being able to be happy, and the raw eggs and snoring dog, and her mother insisting that she was just like the princess who could feel a pea under twenty mattresses and twenty feather beds. Lil, who flicked off her headlamp and settled in on the floor across from Penny, just listened, the candlelight casting lovely shadows on her face.
When Penny finally ran out of steam, Lil said, “I think you’re giving peas a bad rap.”
Penny was indignant. Was that all Lil had gotten from what she’d said? “I don’t see what that’s got to do with…”
Lil raised a hand to shush Penny. “Could I take you somewhere tomorrow? If you’re free, that is. I want to show you something. And then, if you still want to eat your gross peas, well, fine, eat your gross peas. But I really think you should see it before you go on with this.”
Penny peered into the pot. The peas looked even more revolting now that she’d scooped into them. And tomorrow was her day off. “Um. Okay. I guess.”
“I have to work in the morning, but I could swing by at about one.”
Penny tucked a blond curl behind her ear. Should she be making this kind of commitment when she was on champagne? “Sure,” she said, not at all sure that she was.
Lil stood. “Good. I’m going to turn the breakers back on.”
A yawn slipped from Penny’s mouth. She tried to disguise it with a smile. There was no way she wanted Lil to think the yawn had to do with their date. Or was it a date? Her brain was so muddled from the champagne she really had no idea. But she knew she had to say something. “You fixed it?”
Radclyffe & Stacia Seaman - Romantic Interludes 2 - Secrets Page 6