by Lyn Gardner
The next morning, Kate woke up hating herself like she knew she would. Over the years, several men had been in her bed, yet she never enjoyed waking up with any of them, and this morning was no different. Chase was snoring. The room was cold, and Kate felt more alone than if the house were empty. Kate drew in a breath and let it out slowly. She had used him to try to quench a need, and he had done his best to satisfy her, but now Kate wanted him gone. She wanted to be alone to shower and putter through the day. Kate wanted to run her errands and then come home to change into comfy old clothes and snuggle down with a good book. And later that night, when the need would return like it always did, Kate would fulfill it…like he could not.
Quietly, Kate padded to the bathroom and took a quick shower, managing to get herself dressed and into the kitchen before Chase woke up. When he finally came downstairs, dressed in only boxers and a T-shirt, he gave her a wet, sloppy kiss, and it was all Kate could do not to cringe. This was going to be a very long day.
***
Cassidy tiptoed into the darkened flat and promptly scrunched up her face as the overpowering aroma of gardenias invaded her senses. She peered through the darkness, and when she saw Brodie curled up on the sofa without a stitch of clothing on, Cassidy smothered a laugh. Placing a paper bag on the coffee table, she grabbed a throw from a nearby chair, draping it over Brodie before she knelt by her side. “Earth to Brodie.”
There was no movement, not even a hint.
“Hey, Brodie. Time to wake up, champ. Face the day and all that.”
Brodie dragged herself out of the fog of sleep and tried to work moisture back into her mouth. Opening one eye, her brow knitted. “Why are you here?”
“Because you wanted to go shopping for a new telly. Remember?”
“It’ll wait,” Brodie said, and with a grunt, she rolled over to face the back of the sofa.
Cassidy stifled another laugh and opening the bag, she pulled out two cups of coffee. Setting one on the table, she held the other near the back of Brodie’s head, allowing the aroma of the Americano to do what she could not.
Brodie took a deep breath, and before she had exhaled, she flopped back to face Cassidy. She squinted at the sunlight streaming through the windows, and propping herself up on her elbow, she took the coffee from Cassidy and sipped a bit through the hole in the plastic lid.
“Better?” Cassidy said.
“Getting there,” Brodie croaked. “Thanks for the coffee...and the blanket.”
“Yeah, about that,” Cassidy said, her eyes traveling over the half-naked woman in front of her. “Is there any particular reason why you’re starkers and sleeping out here?”
Brodie did her best to remain covered as she pushed herself into a sitting position. “I was too knackered to shower last night, and I didn’t want to stink up my bed with all this perfume.”
“It is a tad strong,” Cassidy said, glancing toward the bedroom. “Oh, shit. Did you bring her back here? Should I leave?”
Brodie screwed up her face. “Bloody hell, you know me better than that.”
“Then why—”
“Because my bleeding clothes reek of it,” Brodie said, pointing to the pile on the floor. “I think I’m going to have to have them professionally cleaned.”
Cassidy’s curiosity got the better of her. She picked up Brodie’s discarded blouse and took a sniff, and a second later, tears began stinging at her eyes. “Jesus Christ,” she said, tossing it back on the floor. “I know you like all types, but this tart was a little over-the-top even for you. Wasn’t she?”
Brodie gathered the throw around her body and stood up. “Yes, she was, but she was also tall, blonde, and stacked.”
“Not to mention hungry,” Cassidy said, seeing a few love bites on Brodie’s neck. “So, where’d you find this one? The perfume counter at John Lewis?”
“No. The Loft.”
Cassidy’s jaw hit the floor. There were several gay clubs in the area, but The Loft was not one Brodie visited often. More like a biker bar than a nightclub, the owners had designed it with one thing in mind—sex. On two levels, the upper one featured small, private lounge areas where the clientele could get to know each other away from the prying eyes of those gathered around the bar one floor below. Dark and loud, if you wanted a quick, down and dirty shag, The Loft was the place to go.
“Why in the hell would you go there?” Cassidy said, but before Brodie could answer, Cassidy held up her hands. “Okay, I know why you went there, but seriously, Brodie, you can pull any woman you want, and there are a lot nicer clubs around than that one.”
“Because I wasn’t interested in a date or a relationship, that’s why,” Brodie said, wincing as she was enveloped in the reeking flowery bouquet. “And I’m not sure if this is lilies, wisteria, or gardenias, but whatever the hell it is, I need to go wash it off before it becomes permanent.”
“All right,” Cassidy said, heading to the kitchen. “And I’ll seal your clothes in a rubbish bag, so they stop smelling up the place.”
“Thanks,” Brodie said as she headed to the bedroom. Once she was safely behind the screens dividing the rooms, Brodie let the throw drop to the floor, and going into the bathroom, she turned on the shower. A few minutes later, she was standing under the hottest spray she could handle, and as Brodie scrubbed the perfume from her skin, she let out a sigh. Cassidy was right. Ordinarily, Brodie was much choosier about whom she allowed to put their hands down her trousers, but last night she had needed raw sex…and that’s precisely what she got.
She hadn’t even finished her first drink when a towering redhead with tattoos covering both her arms tapped Brodie on the shoulder and offered to buy her a drink. Walking billboards had never been Brodie’s type, but the woman was attractive and had ample curves in all the right places, so drinks were purchased. They stood at the bar, casually sipping them while they had a meaningless conversation until the redhead tipped her head toward the ladies’ room.
Just like the upper level, the loo was designed to serve more than one purpose. The lighting was dim, and the music erupting from the speakers was loud enough to cover any sounds coming from the row of stalls lining one wall. The room smelled of soap and sex, and as Brodie allowed herself to be led into a stall, her body was already pulsing with what was to come.
Before the latch was thrown, Brodie found herself being pushed against the partition walls. Usually one who liked to take the lead, tonight she didn’t. Tonight, Brodie didn’t want to lead. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t even want to think. All Brodie wanted was sex, and so did the redhead. Soft caresses and foreplay weren’t necessary as each took what they wanted. Brodie plundered the stranger quickly, taking her to climax with calculated precision, and when it was time for the redhead to return the favor, although it took a bit longer, Brodie’s release finally came. It wasn’t earth-shattering. It wasn’t even close, but as she zipped her jeans and opened the door to the stall, Brodie glanced at her watch. The night was still young.
They went their separate ways as soon as they exited the ladies’. The redhead disappeared into the sea of bodies, and Brodie headed back to the bar to order another drink. Before too long, with a fresh scotch in her hand, Brodie made her way through the crowd to the stairs leading to the upper level. She took her time as she climbed them, scanning the room as she did. Her preference was blondes, easily spotted even in the darkest clubs, but as her eyes darted over the possibilities milling about, none held her interest. Reaching the loft, Brodie found an empty sofa and settled into the worn leather. She sipped her drink and looked out across the club, watching as women of all shapes and sizes meandered below her.
An hour later, Brodie was casually sipping her second scotch when she saw her, and Brodie wasn’t alone. More than one head turned as the platinum-haired woman glided across the club like a beauty contestant. She was wearing a short, black leather skirt and knee-high boots, and her breasts were barely being contained by the black bra she wore under her sh
eer white blouse. She didn’t acknowledge a single gawk as she made her way to the bar, and ordering a drink, she waited patiently until her dirty martini arrived. She plucked the first olive from the cocktail stick with her teeth, and after enjoying the flavor of the Spanish Manzanilla, she emptied the glass in one swallow and ordered another. She lazily ate the remaining two olives while she waited, and turning to scan the room again, she found herself face-to-face with a woman with chocolate brown eyes and a dazzling smile.
“Can I buy you a drink?” Brodie said, leaning against the bar.
The woman gave Brodie a quick once-over and liked what she saw. “Martini. Dirty.”
Brodie called over the bartender, and as she waited for their drinks, she sized up the woman again. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman Brodie had ever seen, but she did fit all of Brodie’s other criteria quite nicely. “My name’s Brodie,” she said, holding out her hand.
“Talia,” the woman purred as she took Brodie’s hand. “Where can we be alone?”
Brodie picked up her drink and led Talia to the second floor, returning to the sofa Brodie had occupied a short time earlier. Surrounded on three sides by heavily beaded curtains, the only open area faced the lower level, and with the sofa pushed toward the back, it offered them a small bit of privacy.
Brodie sat first, and leaning into the corner of the sofa, she motioned for the woman to join her. Talia threw back her head and made a sound reminiscent of enthusiastic swine before she removed the toothpick of speared olives from her glass. She set the glass aside and nonchalantly pulled the olives, one by one, from the plastic spear, consuming each as if they were the finest she’d ever had. Her eyes never left Brodie’s until the last olive was gone, and then hiking her skirt, Talia straddled Brodie’s lap, allowing there to be no confusion as to what she wanted.
Brodie’s libido had been awoken when she had seen Talia at the bar, and the evocative consumption of the briny fruit had put it into overdrive. She leaned in for a kiss, fully intending on plundering the woman’s mouth with her tongue, and that’s when the potency of Talia’s perfume enveloped her. In the crowded bar, it had mixed with dozens of others, diluting the strength of the flowery scent, except there was no avoiding it now. Brodie’s first thought was to pull away to escape from the overpowering smell until Talia pressed her mouth against Brodie’s and forced her tongue inside. Brodie’s body pulsed, and when Talia’s hand traveled south and roughly cupped Brodie’s sex, the woman’s perfume no longer mattered.
The music seemed to grow louder with every plunge of Talia’s tongue, and even though the stench of her perfume had been a turn-off, what Talia was doing with her hands was not. With one hand on Brodie’s breast and the other settled between Brodie’s legs, Talia was squeezing, tweaking, pressing, and rubbing Brodie toward ecstasy.
Brodie broke out of the kiss and held Talia at bay. “Not here. Let’s go to the loo and—”
“No. I want you here,” Talia said, pressing her palm hard against Brodie’s center. “Now.”
“That’s not going to happen, love,” Brodie said, shaking her head. “Not my style.”
A secret smile spread across Talia’s face, and grabbing Brodie’s hand, she forced it under her skirt. “You wanna bet?”
Brodie sucked in a breath. Talia wasn’t wearing knickers, and between the Brazilian wax and the copious amount of need oozing from the woman’s center, Brodie’s hand was coated in a second. “Jesus.”
“So, what’ll it be, love?” Talia said through a leer. “Here and now…or do we just call it a night?”
***
Brodie stood in her bathroom, taking her time as she applied antibiotic cream to the bite marks that had broken through her skin on her neck and shoulders, and another she discovered under her right breast. Capping the tube, she tossed it aside and catching sight of her reflection in the mirror, Brodie groaned. She looked like she’d been in a paintball war without any clothes. Circular bruises left behind by a voracious woman dotted her torso in a dozen places, and she knew if she turned around, she’d see a dozen more.
Unable to deny Talia what she wanted, Brodie had conceded and taken her to orgasm on the worn leather sofa, but when Talia tried to reciprocate, Brodie grabbed her hand and practically carried her to the ladies’ room. Once inside the stall, Brodie found herself being attacked by the insatiable woman. Within seconds, her blouse was open, her bra was dislodged, and her jeans and knickers were pushed down her legs. It was then Brodie discovered the blonde enjoyed inflicting a touch of pain when giving pleasure. Wherever Talia’s mouth traveled, she left a mark, and Brodie did nothing to stop her. Talia was getting Brodie where she needed to be, and even though pain hadn’t been on Brodie’s mind when she walked into the club, by the time she left, it was. Sore and in desperate need of a shower, a little after two in the morning, Brodie exited the club, exhausted yet sated.
***
“I didn’t know you liked it so rough,” Cassidy said, looking over her shoulder as Brodie came into the lounge. “Learn something new every day.”
“I don’t, and it didn’t start out that way,” Brodie said, and snatching up her coffee, she downed most of what remained of the lukewarm Americano.
“Well, by the looks of those marks, it sure as hell ended that way. Where’d you go? Her place?”
Brodie furrowed her brow. “No.”
One beat of her heart was all the time it took for Cassidy’s eyes to bulge. “Oh my God. You shagged her in the loo, didn’t you?”
“I wasn’t looking for something long term.”
“Do you ever?”
Brodie quickly finished her coffee and plunked the cup down on a nearby accent table. “Cassidy, I know you mean well, but honestly, I have never met a woman who I wanted anything else to do with besides sex. Okay? They’re either politically-fixated lesbians, stomping their feet at all the injustices in the world or vegetarians, shocked that I like meat. They have agendas and immediately want to start popping out babies, and I, my dear friend, am not looking for that.”
“What are you looking for?”
Brodie thought for a second and then laughed. “I have no bloody idea, but when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know. Until then, I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing because trust me, it does the trick.”
Chapter Three
Kate slammed down the phone and slumped in her chair. What had started out as one date and one night had turned into an entire weekend, and since leaving her house on Sunday night, Chase had called her more times than Kate had fingers. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried to get him to leave. Kate had dropped a few hints on Saturday and several more on Sunday morning, but not wanting it to look like she’d used him just for sex, which, of course, was the truth, Kate had spent two days trying to avoid the slap-and-tickle tendencies of Chase Wakefield. As if that wasn’t enough, he had also poured on the attention, complimenting her to a point where if Kate heard she was beautiful one more time, she was going to hurl. And when Chase finally left on Sunday night, Kate debated on getting the locks changed…even though he didn’t have a key.
With the holidays now over and two new Detective Inspectors on staff, Kate’s workload had lessened, so when Friday rolled around, she could leave the station at a decent hour. She exited the building and quickly pulled up the collar on her coat to block the icy wind whipping down the street. A dusting of snow had fallen throughout the day, and although the roads were clear, the walks were not, so Kate took her time getting to her car, mindful of the slickness under her feet.
A few minutes later, Kate pulled out into traffic and driving down the road, she glanced at the markets along the way already knowing what she’d see. It happened all the time. At the first mention of snow, people would stampede into the stores, snatching up supplies as if the blizzard of the century was about to bury the United Kingdom in snow and ice, and Kate had no intention of joining the throng. Instead, finding an open spot a few blocks away from an Italian restaurant,
Kate parked her car and trudged up the street.
Kate entered the small eatery and blinked at the brightness of the fluorescent lights. The front room was filled with tiny, round tables, and all were occupied by people eating pizza or sitting and sipping soft drinks while they waited for their takeaway orders to be filled. A glass-fronted counter ran down one side, and behind it, men with big bellies and chubby cheeks tossed dough high above their heads as they joked with the customers standing in the queue. Kate’s shoulders fell when she saw the number of people waiting in the line, but going to a crowded market wasn’t an option. She was tired, her feet hurt, and she did not want to cook. She didn’t even want to think about it.
The door to the restaurant opened again, and Kate welcomed the chilly air as it washed over her. She wasn’t all that surprised when she was jostled by the person coming inside. Kate was last in the queue and nearest to the door, so putting on her best smile, she turned to offer an apology for the cramped situation. A second later, the temperature in the room seemed to grow even warmer. Not only was Kate staring up at Brodie Shaw, but she was also well into the woman’s personal space. Kate took a quick half step backward, and her nostrils flared when she saw Shaw grinning shamelessly back at her.
“DI Monroe,” Brodie said, her eyes slowly traveling over Kate’s body. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.”
For a nanosecond, Kate’s smile reappeared, and then it swiftly died. Without saying a word, Kate turned her back on the cocksure woman.
Brodie relaxed her grin, and pausing only for a second, she tapped Kate on the shoulder.