Call Me Softly

by D. Jackson Leigh

  Swain hesitated. What if someone was hiding upstairs when she went downstairs to check the alarm? Lillie was right. They should stay together. “Stay behind me then, to the left. If I have to swing this mallet, I don’t want to hit you.”

  They crept downstairs with Beau leading the group. He stopped at the bottom and listened again before taking off toward the kitchen. When Swain and Lillie caught up with him, Beau was scratching insistently at the back door. Swain looked out.

  “Something’s in the pool.” She punched in the code to deactivate the alarm and moved to open the door, but Lillie held her back.

  “Turn on the floodlights.”

  Swain flicked on the full array of terrace and pool lights and squinted at the brightness. When she opened the back door, Beau ran for the pool, barking.

  “Quiet, Beau,” Swain said, looking for the source of the splashing noises. At the other end of the pool, Gray Cat was flailing weakly against the side, unable to find a way out. Swain ran to her, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and deposited her onto solid ground. The small cat lay panting as Beau tried to lick her dry. Swain massaged her chest and held her gently as the cat vomited a small amount of pool water. “How’d you fall in, little girl? You’ve never done that before.”

  “Sodding bastard,” Lillie shouted into the darkness. “Only cowards pick on helpless animals.”

  Swain looked around at the darkened polo field and the tree line of the adjacent woods. “Who are you yelling at? Did you see him?”

  Lillie shook her head and scooped Gray Cat up to cuddle her against her chest. “It’s got to be him. He locked her in the closet before and he now threw her in this pool. She would have drowned if Beau and I hadn’t woken up. I’ve had enough of it.” She stared defiantly into the darkness and shouted again. “Can you hear me? I’ve had enough of your cowardly pranks, you wanking little bastard. Hiding in alleys and picking on little cats.” She turned to Swain, a look of horror on her face. “The horses. We should check the barn.”

  “The barn has an alarm system,” Swain said. “I’m first on the security company’s call list, so I’d know if anyone tried to break in there.” Wearing nothing but pants, she suddenly felt exposed. “Let’s go inside. Beau wouldn’t be standing here with us if somebody was still out there.” But she wasn’t as confident as her words sounded.

  While Swain reset the alarm, Lillie got a thick towel to dry Gray Cat, who had already recovered from her ordeal and was swatting away Beau’s nose as he still tried to lick her.

  Swain led them upstairs where Beau returned to his bed and Gray Cat curled up against his chest, purring loudly. Swain shucked off her pants and climbed onto the bed, sitting up with her back against the pillows. She guided Lillie—still dressed in her shirt—to sit between her legs and rest against her chest. She wrapped her arms around Lillie and kissed her shoulder. She stroked her arms until her trembling stopped.

  “Did I tell you how incredibly sexy you look in my tuxedo shirt?”

  Lillie turned in her arms, her lips grazing Swain’s nipple. “Make love to me, Swain. When your hands are on me, I forget about everything except you…everything except us.”

  It was the call Swain was born to answer.

  She slid her lips across Lillie’s as she worked open the buttons on her shirt. She deepened their kiss as she pushed the material from those slender shoulders, then moved lower to tongue her hard, pink nipples. Lillie moaned and arched beneath her.

  Swain looked up, gazing into hooded eyes burning with the same desire that wet her own thighs. She kissed her again, bathing Lillie’s mouth with her tongue. “I want to touch you everywhere, but not with my hands,” she said.

  “Yes. I want that, too.”

  She kissed her way down Lillie’s body, lingering again to lick, to suck her nipples. She rubbed her cheek against the flat plane of Lillie’s belly, laying kisses along the curve of her hip and dipping her tongue into the sensitive navel. She wanted to know, to feel, to taste, to own every part of Lillie’s body.

  Lillie arched and moaned a protest when Swain skipped down to her feet, taking each toe in her mouth to suck it before licking and nipping her way back up.

  “Please,” Lillie begged, opening herself as Swain settled between her legs.

  Swain wrapped her arms around the firm thighs to splay her hands across Lillie’s stomach and hold her thrusting hips down as she nuzzled the blond curls.

  “Please, love,” Lillie begged again, digging her fingers into Swain’s hair and urging her toward her goal, their goal.

  But Swain took her time, plunging her tongue inside, then laving her clitoris with broad strokes. Lillie’s breath hitched as she circled the hard swelling. Sharp pants signaled Lillie’s impending climax and Swain plunged two fingers deep inside. Lillie was open and slick and throbbing. Swain curled her fingers forward to find the roughened spot that would be her trigger and sucked hard on the clit in her mouth. Lillie bucked beneath her and cried out as she gave herself over to the waves of orgasm.

  Still shuddering from her climax, Lillie guided Swain up and wrapped her legs around Swain’s hips. Her nails dug into Swain’s buttocks as she rocked against her.

  “That’s it, love. Come for me. Come between my legs, all over me,” Lillie urged her.

  She pushed Lillie’s knees up to open her farther and mingle their wetness. Her thrusts were wild and fast. Lillie bit down hard on her shoulder and the sweet pain released her. Swain went rigid and moaned, then thrust her way through the orgasm.

  Swain rolled onto her back and cuddled Lillie against her side. Lillie’s hand resting between her breasts was the only thing keeping her heart from pounding out of her chest. This was more than sex. This was more than lust.

  Lillie’s body grew heavy and her breaths even as she relaxed into a deep slumber.

  “I love you. You have to stay,” Swain whispered into the darkness.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The sun was high when Swain stirred the next morning. Gray Cat had awakened her, walking insistently back and forth on top of their entwined bodies. Lillie slept on, so Swain slipped from her arms, pulled on a shirt, and went downstairs to let the cat and Beau out into the yard. When she returned, Lillie had pulled Swain’s pillow into her arms and shifted so that the sheet pooled around her waist and her naked shoulders were bared to the morning sun.

  Swain couldn’t resist stroking the narrow back. She planted kisses along Lillie’s perfect shoulders and slipped her hand lower to massage the soft buttocks. Lillie rolled onto her stomach and lifted her hips upward. She slipped her hand between Lillie’s legs. She was wet.

  Lillie moaned. “I was dreaming about us,” she said softly, her eyes still closed.

  Swain’s fingers found Lillie’s clitoris and she slipped her thumb inside her, thrusting gently. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  “Harder, love. I’m so ready. I won’t take long.”

  Swain positioned herself over Lillie’s back. She used her knees to push Lillie’s legs farther apart and continued to thrust as she laid kisses along Lillie’s spine. God, she was so beautiful. Swain closed her eyes briefly, willing the image to be forever burned in her mind. If Lillie left her and went back to England, she wanted to be able to return to this moment with Lillie’s cries filling her ears, Lillie’s essence filling her hand, and Lillie’s beauty overflowing her heart.

  *

  Lillie threw her head back and laughed in delight as they galloped across the meadow, through the fall-blooming goldenrod and Helenium. Abigail had loved the wildflowers and mandated that several of the small knolls be planted with them rather than cultivated for hay.

  Swain was glad for that now because Lillie seemed drawn to them, just as the flowers appeared to come alive in her presence. Bursting with yellow and russet-red blooms, they waved gently in obeisance to their fey queen. It was magical. Lillie was magical, clearly a sorceress to whose spell Swain now readily, willingly submitted.

&n
bsp; They slowed their horses at the knoll’s pinnacle and walked them in a tight ring head to tail, circling and watching, caressing each other with their eyes.

  “It steals my breath when you look at me like that,” Swain said.

  “Do you have any idea how sexy you are on horseback?”

  “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” she said, making light of Lillie’s compliment in an effort to steady the leaping of her heart.

  “No.” Lillie looked through her now. “You are Epona, wild and stunning and so strong.” Her gaze cleared and she smiled sheepishly. “I…I almost feel like we’ve been here before, or a place like it, riding together and surrounded by wildflowers. You were my champion.”

  “And you my Celtic queen,” Swain murmured.

  Lillie blushed, her golden lashes screening her eyes. “You must think I’m silly with such romantic notions.”

  “I think you’re beautiful. More beautiful than any woman I’ve ever known.”

  “Stop. You make me weak from wanting you. I do think we need to stay upright at least a few hours.”

  Swain flashed back to the shower they’d shared after she’d made love to Lillie that morning. They were soaping each other’s bodies when Lillie pushed her through the spray and against the cool tiles, then dropped to her knees. Swain could hardly remain standing while Lillie took her with her mouth and fingers. She shuddered at the memory, but smiled.

  “Upright is good, too.”

  “You aren’t helping.” Lillie laughed. “I might, however, require some sustenance soon to keep my strength up.”

  Swain broke their circle and urged Sunne alongside Finesse as they turned toward the dirt lane leading back to the barn. “Dinner, then a bottle of wine on the terrace. How does that sound?”

  “Wonderful.”

  It would be the perfect setting to beg Lillie to stay.

  *

  No groom appeared to take their horses when they dismounted next to the barn. “Javier’s the only one here on Saturdays. He’s probably out running an errand.” Swain unbuckled the girth and pulled the saddle from Sunne’s back.

  “I’m dying of thirst,” Lillie said.

  “Grab us a couple of bottles of water from the office refrigerator while I get these saddles off. Then you can help me wash the horses down and turn them out for the afternoon.”

  Lillie was only gone a few seconds when she screamed and stumbled backward out of the barn.

  Swain threw Sunne’s saddle to the ground. “Lillie?”

  Lillie’s hand shook as she pointed toward the barn, her mouth moving in soundless words.

  Swain wrapped a protective arm around her waist and pulled her close. She peered at the darkened doorway. “Where’s Beau?”

  “That big mongrel of yours is taking a little nap.” A man stepped out from the shadows and held up a plastic bag of pills. He absently swung a polo mallet in his right hand a few times before propping it against the barn. “Don’t worry. He’ll wake up fine in a few hours.”

  “Trey? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you,” Swain said.

  “It’s him.” Lillie’s whisper was so soft, Swain wasn’t sure she heard correctly.

  “This is Trey, my brother,” Swain explained. His sculpted cheekbones, his nose looked like hers, but few people would spot them as siblings, much less fraternal twins. His mousey brown hair was thin and his eyes dark.

  “We’ve met before, haven’t we, Lillie?” Trey’s tone was taunting. “Sleeping with the enemy now, sis? You’re just getting sloppy seconds. I already had her months ago, in England.”

  “Bloody bastard. You tried to rape me, but you didn’t get the chance. You ran like the coward you are.” Swain tightened her arm around Lillie’s waist and held her back when she tried to launch herself at him.

  His face reddened and he pulled a gun from where it was tucked in his pants behind his back. His smile was cruel.

  Swain struggled to make sense of everything. Her brother was the man who’d tried to hurt Lillie? She needed to straighten this out.

  “Trey, you don’t need to hurt her. Abigail left me more money than either of us could spend. Half of it’s yours. That’s why I was trying to find you. You don’t need to challenge Lillie’s inheritance.”

  “None of it’s hers,” he roared. “She’s not a Wetherington. We are. We’re the blood-born Wetheringtons that Daddy Dearest let rot in that children’s prison while he treated Blondie here like a daughter. She’s some stray mutt her slut mother left on the street.”

  “You don’t understand, Trey. Eric wasn’t—”

  “Do you know what I endured in the hellhole? Almost every night, from the time I was five years old, one of the older boys came to my bed and shoved his dick in my mouth. By the time I was eight, they—” He stopped and paced in the wide arch of the barn entrance.

  “I…I didn’t know. But you can’t blame Lillie. We have the money to get all the help you need. It’s not Lillie’s fault.”

  “It is her fault!” he screamed. He was wild-eyed, spittle dripping down his chin as he spat out the words. “They wanted her because she was pretty and blond. Bitch. Whore. Slut. Not even a Wetherington.”

  He stopped pacing, narrowing his eyes as he faced them. His tone was eerily calm again. “But you seem to like her, don’t you. You like licking that proper pussy of hers.” He rubbed his crotch with his free hand. “Hmm. What should we do about that? Maybe we’ll keep her around to give us a Wetherington heir.” He smiled. “Wait. You can’t do that for her, can you? Looks like I’ll just have to finish what I started.”

  Swain’s blood rose. “You lay one hand on her and I’ll kill you.” She stepped between him and Lillie, shielding her. “The only way you’ll ever touch her is over my dead body.”

  He laughed manically. “Too bad, sis. I’d have let you watch.” His smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. “But don’t push me. I got rid of the others already. One more won’t make any difference.”

  “Others?”

  “Camille was easy. I just used a stolen car to run her off the road. They didn’t have a prayer of tracing it to me. Daddy Dearest was a little more difficult. He really put up a fight before I managed to shove him off that bridge.” His dark eyes shone. “Abigail, one small push. The beauty of it was that nature finished what I started, so no one ever suspected.”

  Swain groaned. “Trey, no. Tell me you’re making this up.”

  “You bastard. You killed my family.” Lillie moved from behind Swain and took a step toward him, but Swain pulled her back.

  “Not your family, bitch. My family. And you two are next. You see, I have this worked out, too. Your stable boy’s inside, napping with Beau. Did you know he’s in this country illegally? Well, he is.” He smiled. “His green card is lying on Abigail’s desk right now. You apparently discovered it was a fake and took it to the house to report it to Miss Lillie. When she called him to the house to confront him, he went crazy and shot both of you. Another brilliant plan. He takes the blame and goes to prison, and I’m the only one left to claim the Wetherington millions.”

  “The only thing you’ll get is a prison sentence.” Lillie grabbed the cell phone clipped to Swain’s belt and punched out 9-1-1.

  Trey scowled and lifted the gun. “Bitch.”

  Swain jumped in front of Lillie just as the gun fired, the bullet striking her and throwing her to the ground. The pain was intense, searing her left shoulder and radiating through her chest. She struggled to catch her breath. Lillie was screaming her name and she turned her head toward the sound. The blood pooling on the ground was wet against her cheek. Lillie. She was clawing and kicking as Trey dragged her toward the house.

  Swain felt strangely detached. Was this what dying felt like?

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  A strangled gasp, another, then another.

  Her lungs finally began to fill and Swain realized the impact of the fall had taken her breath. Pain shot through her with each dee
p gulp of air, but her strength was returning. Her strength and her urgency.

  “Lillie,” she moaned. She felt the tickle of whiskers on her neck and an agonizing nudge against her injured shoulder. But she welcomed the pain because it meant she was still alive. She rolled over and pushed up into a sitting position. The horses had skittered away at the sound of the gunshot, but Finesse had returned. The mare raised her head to gaze at the two people struggling across the field.

  Take care of my Lillie. She needs a champion. The words Abigail had written echoed in Swain’s mind.

  She breathed slowly through a wave of nausea and tried to focus. Trey stopped and struck Lillie hard in the face. He grabbed her hair and wrapped his arm around her throat to pull her off her feet. She struggled to regain her footing as he again dragged her toward the house.

  Finesse shifted and Swain realized she was still saddled. The mare stood steady as Swain grabbed the stirrup leather and pulled herself to her feet. She leaned heavily against the broad flank as another dizzying wave of nausea assailed her. When her vision cleared, she spotted the mallet and staggered to where Trey had left it against the barn. She needed to hurry. She hooked its leather strap around her wrist and staggered back to swing herself into the saddle. She was too weak to walk, but she could still ride.

  She kicked Finesse into a full gallop. The pain made her want to scream, but she used it to cut through the lethargy from her blood loss. She could barely hold the reins in her left hand, but the mare seemed to know their course. She held the mallet ready in her right.

  When Trey turned toward the sound of pounding hooves, Lillie twisted free and ran. He hesitated for a critical second, then raised his pistol and aimed at Lillie’s back.

  But Swain was already upon him. She swung her mallet, cracking it hard against his hand. Trey dropped the gun and howled. Her vision grew hazy again with the torture of slowing Finesse and reining her in a tight circle to run at him again. Growing ever weaker from blood dripping down her arm, she knew it might be her last chance before losing consciousness.