by Ronica Black
Jude inched closer, bleeding inside for causing her pain. She felt her nostrils flare as she imagined Mary’s scent marking her shirt after having slept in it all curled and warm in her bed.
“Mary.” She cupped her jaw and smoothed her thumb under her eye. Mary trembled and blinked away the hurt. Her skin grew hot and her eyes were serious with want.
Jude was lost now. Captivated. She wanted to kiss her. To hold her warm lips with her own, tasting again and again. She pulled her closer and lowered her hand to embrace her. She was a blissful inch from her mouth when a banging came from the door.
Mary jerked and backed away and Jude angrily opened it, expecting to find Cord relaying Mary’s presence to her even though she was obviously already well aware.
“Hi.” It was one of her regulars, dressed in a leather vest and faded jeans. Her crooked smile and heavy lidded eyes said she was ready and willing to go, but Jude wanted nothing to do with the ride.
“I am busy.”
The woman showed surprise and then caught sight of Mary. “Oh.” Her eyes drifted back to Jude. “The sign says go, so I thought—”
“The sign is wrong.”
“Okay. I can wait.”
She leaned in a little as if trying to lure Jude further. Jude tried to close the door, but Mary squeezed through.
“Excuse me,” she said, breezing past the woman. Jude shouldered past her as well and hurried after Mary.
“Wait. Mary, wait.”
She was able to catch her gently by the arm as they stopped in a dark corner. Around them the thump of the music did its best to muffle out the laughter and moans coming from the walls. A threesome was getting it on near the bar, and Jude watched as Mary stared at them, arms crossed over her chest.
“You’re free,” she said, obviously detached from Jude and the moment they had shared just moments before. “She’s waiting for you.”
“Come back with me.” Jude tried to tilt her face toward her, but Mary refused.
“She’s what you want isn’t she? Just a hot fuck.”
Jude felt stricken but she wasn’t sure why. The truth was the truth.
Mary took her silence as an answer. “I thought so.” She crossed to the door and Jude called for her one last time. As she turned, Jude felt the other woman tug on her arm. Mary saw it too, and when Jude made no move to get away from her, Mary walked through the door leaving only the warm evening breeze behind her.
Chapter Ten
Mary answered the ringing phone lines one after the other. She thanked each person for calling and then placed them on hold. It was Monday, and Monday, as they say, was a bitch.
“Thank you for holding, how can I help you?” She began typing in the client’s account information as he relayed his problem. It was typical Monday morning mumbo jumbo, and she was able to work through the calls quickly.
The calls, though, were the least of her problems, and she wished more would come in so she couldn’t think about anything else. But co-worker asshole number two was back again and leaning over her cubicle.
“Hey, Mary. Remember eight is late.”
She’d shown up at eight fifteen and it seemed everyone and their mother had noticed. She wanted to groan. She was always on time. Always.
She covered her mouthpiece and leaned toward him. “I clock in at seven fifty-eight every morning. Do you?”
He didn’t. He was notoriously late, which, she figured, was why he was picking on her.
His cheesy smile vanished, but he didn’t leave. “Don’t get your panties in a wad just because you’re late today, Mary.”
She glared at him. What an ass. His thick arms dangled over her wall and she thought about grabbing them and pulling down hard. Would he shriek? Yell? Curse? Cry?
“I’m just trying to help you out.” He smacked his gum, or whatever it was he was chewing, loudly. He had a tiny drink straw tucked behind his ear and he smelled like too much cologne mixed with coffee.
To her dismay, he continued to hang there while she finished her call.
“Hey,” he said softer, like he was telling her a secret. “We’re gonna get together later in the week. Go back to that club we were telling you about.”
She couldn’t help but laugh aloud and he looked a little nervous for a second.
“Yeah,” he said. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” She swallowed her laughter with a bit of coffee. “Let me know the details.” She rose and rounded her cubicle area so that she was standing directly next to him. He turned from the wall and stared at her. She knew he and the others were still somewhat surprised by her emerging new I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude, and she couldn’t help but gloat about it. The last time they’d spoken he’d insulted her while she did nothing.
Well, not today.
Inching closer to him she said, “You name the time, big boy. I know some guys there who will really rock your world.”
He drew back and blinked. She pursed her lips at him as if in a silent kiss, and then she left him to stride into the restroom. The room was quiet as she entered, like a great cathedral to all things pure and pristine. She barely made it to the far stall before she burst into tears. Huddled there on the toilet, she cried into her hands, trying to stifle her sobs.
Her life was over. Just as it had finally begun. She’d met Jude and her soul had awakened. Life had a sun and a blue sky and beautiful and erotic thoughts and feelings. It felt glorious and exciting, as if she’d been saturated in ecstasy and awe. She’d imagined herself dipped in it, like an apple dipped and dripping with caramel. The apple becoming sweeter, delicious and more tempting.
She tore off a few stubborn pieces of toilet paper and dabbed at her eyes. She’d thought she’d been sweeter and delicious and more tempting. She’d felt that way. And she’d thought Jude had too.
But it had all been a game. Conquest itself was a game. No one went there for passionate lovemaking and soul-awakening connections. They went there for sex and pleasure and kinky S and M things she knew nothing about. Jude was a part of it all. She was there specifically for those reasons. Nothing else.
Mary had been ridiculous, trying as many times as she had. God, what a fool. She was lucky Jude had been as patient as she had.
And yet…
She couldn’t get past that look in Jude’s eyes. It was attraction, yes. Lust. She’d felt it for Jude; Jude had felt it in return. But that’s all it was, nothing more. And she had to let it go.
So why couldn’t she?
She mulled it over just as she had every night after that first encounter. The answer was there, right in front of her, but it was difficult to accept. Really difficult considering the way Jude had behaved.
But it was there and she couldn’t deny it.
She felt more than just lust for Jude. She felt so many powerful things.
The main door to the restroom opened and she stood as two women entered. She knew who they were but hadn’t cared enough to learn their names. One of them, she’d actually considered befriending.
“Did you hear what Carla said?”
“About Mary?”
“Yes, can you believe it? She’s actually being a bitch.”
“I didn’t think she had it in her.”
Water ran from the row of sinks as Mary rested her head against the stall door to listen.
“Oh, I did. I always knew she was a bitch. She just never spoke.”
“I don’t know. I thought she was kind of…sad.”
“Please.”
“No really. She seemed really sad and sort of lonely. Like she lived alone with twenty-five cats or something.”
“I’ll tell you what’s sad. Her wardrobe. She dresses like a Bible salesman.”
They laughed.
“Her cardigans are cute.”
“No way. The cardigans are so Mr. Rogers.”
More laughter.
“You’re the one being a bitch now.”
“So? At least I can. When you have a
body like this you’re allowed to be a bitch. I own it. Have you ever seen a tighter ass?” She clawed at the mirror like a cat. “That’s right. Look but don’t touch. Eat your heart out, boys.”
“You’re disgusting.” They both leaned toward the mirror to touch up their mascara. “I think Mary’s just misunderstood.”
“You’re a dyke.”
“Shut up!”
“You are. Just like she is.”
“She is not. Is she?”
The woman shrugged and retrieved her lipstick. “Probably. She told Bobby today that she knew some guys at that club who would really rock his world.”
“What?”
“As in gay sex. Yeah. She totally did. She’s probably into all kinds of kinky shit. The quiet ones always are.”
“Wow.” The other woman grew quiet. “I thought that whole thing was a joke. I didn’t think she even showed.”
“Well, apparently she did. She’d probably been going all along.”
Mary closed her eyes and wiped the stray tears from her cheeks. The women left and she heard the door bang behind them. She studied her reflection as she walked to the sink. They were right. She looked plain, unremarkable. Like she had twenty-five cats at home and no one else in her life to talk to. Her dark blue Oxford was neatly pressed and dreary, leading into black slacks. The cardigan hugging her desk chair was tan and nearly worn through. She rarely did speak while at work, and honestly, it wasn’t because everyone was an ass or a stuck up bitch.
It was her. Mary.
Mary, Mary quite contrary.
How does your garden grow?
She winced, having heard the rhyme mimicked to her her entire life. Every time someone sang it to her, she’d retreated further and further into her shell.
People were mean.
Uncaring.
Harsh.
Cruel.
Not just to her, but to everyone. Those that prevailed either didn’t care, had no heart, or were really good looking. Everyone else was shark chum. She’d learned that lesson early on in life, and she’d done her best to steer clear of the bloody waters.
But here she was again, doing all she could to avoid the hungry predators. Yet somehow, they were circling, having caught her scent.
Avoidance wasn’t working. Living a lonely, sexually and emotionally unfulfilling life wasn’t working.
Something had to be done.
People be damned.
Chapter Eleven
Jude was late and it was really bothering her. She was always prompt, even when arriving to Conquest. Her life was like her ledger—precise, perfect, and no room for error. She cursed as she tried to unlock the private entrance to the club. Night was falling faster now and they desperately needed a light by the door, but no one was opting for it but her. Cord, she guessed, probably lived in an alley somewhere, so lights wouldn’t be his thing.
He gave her a curious eye as she entered. “Thought for a second you weren’t coming.”
“Maybe thinking isn’t your thing.”
He set down the shot glass he was polishing and instead rubbed his hands with the towel. He had a bin full of glasses, readying them for the bar. The back room was stifling, small, and dim, the pounding of the club sounding like a cacophony around them.
“You got something you wanna say?”
It was funny how some people confronted her. Some got right in her face. Some did it passively. Some shook in their boots and looked her dead in the eyes. She’d never expected to have this sort of conversation with Cord, but here he was, doing his best to square off with her.
“No.”
He pushed his shoulders back a little. “Okay, then.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey.” He pointed a finger at her. “If you don’t wanna come anymore, you don’t have to.”
She dropped her duffel bag. “What?”
“I won’t ask any questions.”
“What?”
He sighed. “Sometimes people need a break.”
She felt her stomach twist painfully inside. What the fuck was he saying? “I don’t.”
“Sometimes people just have enough. Ya know?”
“No.”
“I’m just sayin’ if you—”
“Jesus Christ.” She grabbed her bag.
“You don’t seem like you wanna be here is all.”
She hurried past him and heard him call out, “I ain’t the only one that’s noticed.”
There were people in the main room and a few standing at the bar, but she didn’t bother to check them out. Cord called out something else, and she knew he’d followed her out to the bar. She waved him off, her ears already on fire with his words.
Didn’t want to be there? Where did he come up with that? She’d just had two women together night before last. And her regulars were pouring in just as they always had.
He was crazy.
Fucking Cord.
But as she set her bag down to unlock her door, tiny pins pricked the back of her mind. She hadn’t been enjoying the conquering like she usually did.
No.
Just stop.
She did enjoy it. She just didn’t enjoy it with every woman.
“Fuck me!” Her key didn’t seem to be turning right. She turned the knob and the door eased open.
The lamps were on and someone was on her bed.
Mary.
Jude blinked, unsure if what she was seeing were real. She tried to react in anger, but her throat tightened as Mary moved and stood at the end of the bed. Her brown hair hung down past her shoulders where it rested on a white Oxford shirt. The shirt was unbuttoned a good ways and tied in a knot at her sternum, showing off her abdomen and a black lacy bra. The trail of her smooth, pale torso led to a black mini skirt and black thigh-high stockings. Black stiletto heels glimmered in the light as she walked very slowly up to Jude.
“Aren’t you going to close the door?”
“What are you doing?” Jude finally managed to ask.
“Close the door and you’ll see.” Instead of waiting for Jude to do it, Mary brushed by her, slid the sign to red, and closed the door. She tugged on Jude’s shirt as she headed back to the bed, giving her a dangerously sexy look over her shoulder as she did so.
Jude started to speak, but Mary stopped her. “I know you’re wondering why I’m here since you made it clear I shouldn’t come around anymore.” She drug over a chair Jude kept in the corner and encouraged Jude to sit. Jude chose to stand.
“I’ve been doing some thinking, and I realized, hey, this Jude person, she’s just into fucking. That’s all. I shouldn’t take offense at that or get all hurt over it. Right?”
She returned to the bed and pulled back the covers. Two different sized dildos and an electric massager were on the sheets along with a small bottle of lube.
Mary kicked off her stilettos and crawled onto the bed. She sat on her knees and looked at Jude.
“So I decided to come here tonight and thank you.”
Jude was at a complete loss. Mary, there and waiting, wearing an outfit that would make any woman drop down to her knees in worship.
“For what?” she almost whispered.
“For awakening me.”
Slowly, she began inching up her skirt to reveal more pale flesh leading to pink, none of it covered by panties. “Please sit, Jude. I don’t want you to touch me. I just want you to watch. I want to show you what you’ve done for me.”
Jude hesitated. She wasn’t in control and it made her uncomfortable. But Mary was unlike anything she’d ever seen, and she was on her bed, slipping her fingers into her already glistening folds.
“This isn’t a trick, Jude. It’s just me, touching myself in front of you. Nothing more. I don’t expect anything more, and I won’t. I just want to fuck.” She sighed as her fingers found her clit and Jude heated and slid down into the chair.
Jude could smell the jasmine of her moist skin and as she watched, she swore she could feel her hot, slippery
flesh.
“Something’s happened to me, Jude. Since that first night we met. My clit, it throbs now. Aches. It wants to be touched, licked, sucked. All the time. And my skin…” She rubbed her hand over her breast and up along her neck. “It’s the same. It burns for touch.”
Jude swallowed and tried to steady her breathing. A cool sweat had broken along her brow and her flesh was beginning to throb. She wasn’t sure if she could take this. Mary was luring her in, more so than ever, leaving her helpless to fight it.
She should ask her to leave.
Before it went any further.
But Mary was playing by Jude’s rules now, and an excuse wouldn’t be easy in coming.
What could she tell her? That it wasn’t her that was necessarily the problem? That it was Jude and the feelings Mary brought out in her?
No. She had to face this and deal with it. What a sweet, sweet problem it was, with Mary like the dancing flame of a fire. It lured her in with its warmth but could easily sting her with its burn. Despite the danger, it was wonderful, hypnotizing, drawing her closer.
She licked her lips and held the bottom of the chair.
Mary switched on the massager and put the head to her flesh. She was smooth there, having shaved since their first encounter, and Jude could see the seashell pink of her flesh and the redness of her clit as the massager moved around and around, stimulating just the edges.
“Mm,” Mary said. “Feels so good.” She jerked her hips a little and her face and neck crimsoned with desire. “I started touching myself, Jude. I realized I could do to myself what you did to me. I’ve been doing it every night. Making myself—”
She jerked wildly and her muscles tensed. Her hand stilled with the massager directly over her clit while her other hand released her flesh. The noise of the vibration changed as it pleasured her, nestling itself into her. She rocked back and forth while moaning, eyes closed, hand up in her hair and then on her face and down her neck.
Jude leaned forward, wanting to get closer, wanting to touch her.
Mary opened her eyes and found her. Then, with a grin so wicked and so erotic it nearly knocked Jude from her chair, she said, “Come.” And she came loudly and throatily, body fucking the massager, her hand gripping and thrashing the sheets. Jude stood, her own pulse colliding with her hesitation. She wanted to tackle and take her, ravish her like there was no tomorrow. But Mary climaxing was so intense and so beautiful, she didn’t dare move. She watched, wishing she could capture the sight in a bottle to view and experience anytime she wanted.